hostage rescue prior to the bombing?”
“No. There are no such plans. I cannot risk the welfare of the entire nation for a single life. Were Ambassador Kelly in my position, you can rest assured he would make the same decision. Is that all, gentlemen?”
Alex Hawke leaned forward across the table, his hard blue eyes locked on those of the president.
“Sir. I understand the extreme gravity of the situation. And the sense of urgency. But whatever we do, we’ve got a moral obligation to get Brick safely out of there, Mr. President.”
“I’m under enormous cabinet pressure to take this madman out now, Alex. And they’re absolutely right. The B-52s are warming up their engines.”
“Brickhouse Kelly is a great statesman, sir. He almost single-handedly brokered the current Mideast ceasefire. A war hero. The father of five fine young boys. We’ve got seventy-two hours, sir. I strenuously urge you —”
“I am well aware of all that,” the president said sharply, shoving his chair back from the table. “I certainly don’t need to be reminded by you that—”
“I’ll get him out if I have to do it myself, sir.”
The president and Alex stared at each other for several long moments, the president considering his reply. The president could count on one hand the number of men in the world who could publicly challenge his authority and get away with it. But, finally, he had to smile. Alex Hawke was certainly one of them.
“Then I’m goddamn glad somebody invited you to this tea party, Mr. Hawke. You’re probably the only man in this room who might actually be able to pull something like that off.”
“So, you would have no objection, Mr. President,” Hawke interjected, pressing his advantage, “to an independently mounted hostage rescue operation?”
His question was met with a wry smile.
“Let me put it this way, Alex. If someone can get up to the top of that goddamn mountain and get Brick Kelly out of there in seventy-two hours without compromising the American mission or the security of the republic, I assure you neither Secretary de los Reyes nor I would have any objection.”
“Thank you, sir.”
“Then, with your permission, Mr. President,” Conch jumped in, “I’d like to put the Hostage Rescue Team at DSS under the joint control of Chief Patterson and Commander Hawke. Effective immediately.”
The president looked at her sharply; then at Hawke. It was no secret in Washington that Conch and Alex went way back and they shared a lot, including their love for Brick Kelly. Hell, he loved the man himself. But he had no doubt that, sometime earlier this morning, there had been a little a priori collusion between his two friends.
If Hawke could save Brick Kelly, God bless him. If not, he knew Alex Hawke would probably die trying.
“Done,” the president finally said, getting to his feet. “Good morning then, gentlemen. Appreciate your coming on such short notice.”
“Thank you very much, Mr. President,” Jack Patterson said, also rising. Then, looking at Hawke, he added, “C’mon, Alex, let’s saddle up. We got a long way to ride and a short time to get there.”
But Alex Hawke was looking at the beautiful Secretary de los Reyes still seated across the table. She gazed at him with her soft brown eyes as Hawke said, quietly, “We’ll get Brick out, Conch.”
“I don’t doubt that for one minute, Alex.”
“You wanted to see me, Mr. President?”
“Yes.”
Hawke had joined the president in the small sitting room used by the prime minister’s family on the top floor of Number Ten. McAtee was standing by a window, looking down into the garden. He turned around and faced Alex. He seemed to have aged since the earlier encounter in the Terracotta Room.
“Good show down there.”
“You wrote the script, sir. My role was fairly believable. Stereotypical, one might say.”
“Alex, listen. The spooks on both sides are in total agreement for once. There are at least a hundred of these goddamn suitcase nukes unaccounted for out there. Hell, they may already be on the way. They may already be inside U.S. borders. Homeland Security doesn’t know. Much as I love Brick, if it were up to me I’d blow the shit out of this bin Wazir right this goddamn minute. But to placate the other side of the aisle, I’ve got to try to cobble together this goddamn European coalition. Thank God for Anthony Tempest and the Brits. True grit, that man.”
“Indeed, sir.”
“Look me in the eye and listen to this, Alex. The Nimitz Carrier Battle Group is on station in the Indian Ocean. The fire control systems aboard those cruisers and destroyers are keyed to launch Tomahawk land attack missiles in exactly seventy-one hours and forty-eight minutes. Coalition or no coalition. It would take an act of Congress to alter that launch schedule. Okay?”
“Yes, sir.”
“And I pray even that timing is soon enough to catch this little bastard holding all his high cards.”
“Yes, sir.”
“But I don’t have that option. I need to know, Alex. Just exactly, precisely, where those bombs are and what the living hell this maniac is up to.”
“Yes, sir.”
“And I need to know now. You get yourself inside this palace of his, you find Brick still alive, fine. I pray to God that will be the case. He’s a great American. But you’ve got one job and one job only. Get this bin Wazir up against a wall and make him tell you exactly where all those goddamn Pigskins are and what the hell he plans to do with them. Got it?”
“Got it.”
The president suddenly looked very, very tired. But Alex Hawke had one more question.
“Why the hell kidnap Brick, sir? Instead of taking him out like the others?”
“I’ve got a leak, Alex. A bad one. Inside Langley.”
“Tell me.”
“I had two candidates slotted to succeed Ted Sann on the seventh floor. Ambassadors Evan Slade and Brick Kelly. Six weeks ago, there was a top-secret meeting at the ‘Farm’ down in Virginia. Sann briefed both candidates on our imminent Middle East operations. This is need-to-know, so I can’t reveal the players. But we’ve got hard intel that Country A is ramping up for a nuke strike against Country B. We are going to preempt A without B’s knowledge in hopes of averting an all-out regional war. Somebody who shouldn’t have been there was in that room with Sann at that meeting. So far, we haven’t got him. Anyway, these bastards have penetrated the highest levels at Langley.”
“So they murdered Slade’s family up in Maine? To what end?”
“They obviously expected Slade to be there at the house. It was a long-planned family vacation. At an isolated location where they could prime Evan to talk by murdering his family one at a time in front of him. A standard tactic. Evan changed his plans at the last minute and sent his family ahead without him. But the sleepers pretty much kept their plans intact. Then Evan shot himself before they could get to him and get anything out of him. So now they’ll go to work on Brick by threatening his family with the same courtesy they showed the Slades.”
“Jesus.”
“Yep. The Queen invited the whole Kelly family to stay in a royal apartment at Kensington Palace for a week. Safe enough there. Brick, of course, has no way of knowing that. Still, Brick won’t talk, Alex. No matter what they threaten or do to him. They’ll figure that out pretty fast. So—”
The president looked up to see Hawke halfway out the door, pulling it closed after him.
Chapter Forty-Two
Suva Island
THE SMELL OF WOMEN. SNAY BIN WAZIR INHALED DEEPLY, A shiver of pleasure tripping lightly down his
