The most hopeful strategy would be to anticipate their move and intercept them. This ran contrary to all his training and to the protective doctrine of the Secret Service, which was to cover the protectee and evacuate. But evacuate where? Under assault by an organization as ubiquitous, invisible, and determined as NOMan, was any place safe?
Bo was exhausted. He lay back on the blanket, looked up at the empty night sky, and thought about Kate. He wondered what she must think of him now. Probably, she was thinking he was insane and she was lucky that he hadn’t gone berserk when they’d been alone together.
The sound of thunder came from far away, but Bo didn’t see any lightning. A few drops hit him in the face. Great. On top of everything else, it was going to rain.
chapter
forty-three
President Daniel Clay Dixon was somewhere over North Carolina. Sitting alone in his private compartment aboard Air Force One, he took a moment to look up from the White House news summary and appreciate the color of the evening sky. It looked like a great fire was burning somewhere beyond the Blue Ridge. Then he took another moment to sit back and close his eyes.
He was feeling good. The Pan-American summit had gone well, ended with a signing of a good-faith agreement by all the heads of state in attendance. The president had been accorded the honor of giving the closing address, and his words had been received with a standing ovation. He felt that something significant had been accomplished. In his presidency thus far, that had been a rare feeling.
He was about to return to reading the news summary, a document prepared for him four times daily, when his phone rang.
“Mr. President, Lorna Channing is on the line.”
“Go ahead,” Dixon said. “Lorna, what’s up?”
“Have you read your news summary?”
“I’m just doing it now. Something I should know?”
“Page three.”
Dixon thumbed the summary and saw what concerned Lorna.
A brief article reported that Special Agent-in-Charge Diana Ishimaru, head of the Minneapolis field office of the Secret Service, had been found shot to death in her St. Paul home. Authorities were searching for Special Agent Bo Thorsen, who was wanted for questioning in the shooting death. Thorsen’s car was found at the victim’s home, and neighbors reported that a man matching Thorsen’s description had been observed in the area just prior to the time of death. Earlier in the day, Thorsen reportedly instigated an altercation involving Ishimaru. Thorsen was currently under suspension from his duties pending a formal inquiry into the events surrounding the attempted assassination of the First Lady at her family home in Minnesota.
“Christ, what’s going on?” Dixon said.
“If you believe the reports, our man’s gone postal.”
“Has he contacted you?
“Not a word. I didn’t even know he’d left D.C. I’ve talked with Stanton. He’ll be here when you arrive. I thought it would be best if we were briefed together.” She was talking about Gerald Stanton, director of the Secret Service.
“Good.” The president glanced out the window again, at the sky that seemed to reflect a distant fire.
“John Llewellyn’s got a burr under his saddle,” Lorna said. “He’s talking resignation.”
“Maybe that won’t be necessary.”
“No?”
“Maybe I’ll just fire him.”
Stanton was a big, strong-looking man with a wide face, gray hair, and a glare that he wielded like a stone ax. A veteran of more than a quarter century with the Secret Service, he had, among other assignments, headed the POTUS detail for two presidents. While he was always respectful of the office of the chief executive, he’d seen too much of the human side of the presidency to be intimidated by the man who occupied the Oval Office.
Stanton sat in a wing chair and Channing in another. The president sat on the sofa opposite them.
“What have you got?” Dixon asked.
“From the beginning,” Stanton said. “One. Wednesday afternoon, Agent Thorsen tried to get into Wildwood. When he was denied access-”
“Denied?”
“His actions at Wildwood before and during the recent attack on the First Lady are the subject of a formal investigation. In addition to certain procedural irregularities, there have been accusations of dereliction of duty lodged by Special Agent Christopher Manning. It’s all spelled out in this memo I’ve prepared.”
Stanton handed the president a folder.
“Because the First Lady and several of the family members will be called as witnesses in the inquiry, any contact with Thorsen at this point is out of the question.
“Two. Thorsen entered the field office Wednesday afternoon and engaged in a verbal altercation with his superior, Special Agent-in-Charge Diana Ishimaru. According to eyewitnesses, Thorsen left in an agitated state. Later that evening, he was seen leaving a bar in St. Paul, reportedly so drunk he could barely stand. According to Ishimaru’s neighbors, a man fitting Thorsen’s description pounded on their door at oneA.M. looking for Ishimaru. He appeared to be quite inebriated. The neighbor directed him to Ishimaru’s home. At one-thirty-seven, this same neighbor heard shots fired next door and called the police. The officers who responded discovered Ishimaru dead from a gunshot wound to the head. Thorsen’s clothing was found in the home. His car was parked-badly-on the street in front of the house.
“Three. Agent Thorsen has disappeared.”
“And that’s where things stand now?”
“No. There’s more. Thorsen contacted the Minneapolis field office this evening, claiming that Tom Jorgenson was the target of another assassination plot. The agent who spoke with him said he sounded like a man gone over the edge. A short time later, Thorsen showed up at a gas station next to the hospital where Jorgenson was recuperating. He threatened the clerk and a customer with a gun. As much as I hate to say this, it appears more and more likely that Agent Thorsen is under severe emotional strain. At this point, we consider him extremely dangerous.”
Dixon nodded and sat back.
Stanton said, “Sir, it’s my understanding that Thorsen was involved in an investigation here in Washington just a few days ago. At your request.”
“I asked Thorsen to do me an unofficial favor.”
“A favor? I have reason to believe the investigation was of a very serious nature.”
“I asked him to look into a few matters concerning Robert Lee’s death.”
“Were you worried about your own safety?”
“When I’m ready to share my concerns with you, Director Stanton, I will.”
Stanton’s face grew perceptibly stonier. “Sir, I would like nothing more than to be able to clear Agent Thorsen and to remove this dark cloud that’s hanging over the Secret Service. Can you tell me anything that might help me do that?”
“No.” He and the director locked eyes a moment. It was Stanton who finally broke. The president said, “I expect to be updated on everything that occurs in your investigation of Thorsen. Thank you for coming, Director Stanton. We’ll remain in touch.”
After the director left, Dixon turned to Lorna Channing. “What do you think? Has Thorsen gone over the edge?”
“It certainly appears so.”
