Chapter 10
The FBI sent the new e-mail directly to Blitz, and he was just reading it when Hunter called to tell him about it. Blitz thanked him, then sat back at his desk, pondering the meaning of the short message.
Clearly, the scientist was getting antsy. Clearly, he had to be retrieved. But even Blitz was starting to worry now about the state of the country he was in. The latest estimate reported several army units in open rebellion.
Blitz had seen the Pentagon proposals for the operation. The planners clearly favored Force One, which called for an MC-130s to land at the airfield and secure it while another dropped several A teams into the camp a few miles away. There they would retrieve the scientist, by force if necessary.
The alternative, called Tacit Ivan, was admittedly more imaginative and was much more likely to remain secret. It was, however, even more risky, calling for a jet with minimal weapons to fly to the air base while the Korean scientist proceeded there on his own. The only man available to fly the plane, it appeared, was Colonel William Howe.
Reason enough in Blitz’s mind to kill it.
“President is calling for you,” said Mozelle, appearing over Blitz’s computer. “Everyone else is in the cabinet room already.”
Blitz looked up at his assistant. She had a strained look on her face.
“What?” he asked.
“That tie really doesn’t go with that jacket,” she said.
Tyler felt sweat creeping down the joints of his fingers to his palms as he stood against the wall in the Oval Office.
I’m nervous, he thought to himself. Wow.
And he was. Tyler had seen combat both with the Rangers and Special Forces. As far as he could remember, his hands had never sweat on him.
That was different somehow — which was odd really, because no matter what happened here, he wasn’t going to get shot at, let alone killed.
On the other hand, that was the President of the United States sitting a few feet away, joking with the secretary of defense about college basketball.
The President of the United States.
Tyler looked around the room, trying to memorize the scene: It was part of history, and he was right in the middle of it.
He was also the only black man in the room, he realized.
“Sorry I’m late,” said Blitz, coming in. The national security advisor seemed to wear a perpetual frown above his thin goatee; occasionally he tried to smile, which made his expression appear ten times grimmer.
“Now that we’re here, let’s have a brief summary of the plans,” said President D’Amici, leaning back in his chair. “Pentagon first.”
Colonel Victor Thos, who headed the special targeting task force, ran down the highlights of the plans with the help of a PowerPoint presentation. Force One, which had several options, was by far the preferred plan, and this came through in the presentation. Thos also outlined a more conventional plan with a force to knock out the radars and take over Pong Yan, the airfield near the camp.
“If we do that, we’ll start a war with them,” said Blitz. “If we can’t do this covertly, we can’t do it. Period.”
Thos grimaced and then outlined Tacit Ivan, the plan involving the Berkut. For some reason the plan sounded much more reasonable now than it had earlier when they’d gone over the presentation, though Tyler decided he still preferred Force One.
“I have one question,” said the President when he finished. “Would you put your life on the line for any of these plans?”
“Yes, sir, I would,” snapped Tyler.
The words had come out automatically, and Tyler realized belatedly that the President had actually asked the question of Thos. All eyes in the room stared at him.
“Excuse me,” he said.
“That’s quite all right,” said the President. He turned to Thos. “I assume you feel the same way.”
“Absolutely.”
“Well, of course,” said Blitz. “That’s not the question.”
Tyler knew from the meetings he had observed that the President didn’t mind candid exchanges and even arguments, but Blitz seemed almost belligerent. The national security advisor began arguing about the need for alacrity — he used the word several times — because of the deteriorating situation. To Tyler, it seemed as if he was criticizing the plan.
“We can have people on the ground there within twenty-four hours,” Tyler said finally when Thos didn’t speak up in its defense. “I guarantee it.”
The secretary of defense and the head of the Joint Chiefs of Staff glared at him. Tyler felt his jaw set; what the hell did they expect? Of course the job could be done. Otherwise they wouldn’t have brought it here.
“Are you volunteering to take command of the mission, Ken?” asked the President.
Was he?
“Sir, I would in a heartbeat. Absolutely. I want to lead it.”
The President smiled. Tyler sensed that he was coming off like some sort of cowboy gunslinger, which to him was the exact opposite of what he felt: He was here as a professional with a carefully considered, albeit risky, lineup of plans. He wouldn’t have proposed them if he didn’t believe in them.
Were the others testing him? Thos started to say something — either to change the subject or perhaps point out that the unit officers would be expected to command and would be more than qualified to do so — but the President raised his hand.
“I think Major Tyler would be an excellent choice. I have full confidence in him. And in Colonel Howe. I want a plan that has a chance to remain covert but can move ahead quicker than the CIA plan. That’s Tacit Ivan. Get it under way immediately.”
Chapter 11
“You figure terrorists are big on irony?” asked Fisher.
“How so?”
“Battery Park. Energy. E-bomb. Get it?”
Macklin’s blank stare went well with his haircut, which looked as if it had started as a fade and veered toward Mohawk. Fisher walked past the museum building out toward the edge of the water. On a clear day you could see the Statue of Liberty from there — but this wasn’t a clear day. A low bank of clouds loomed beyond the thin mist, and the sky above furled with an impending snowstorm.
Though the more optimistic weathermen were calling for sleet.
“You think he called from the middle of Battery Park?” asked Macklin.
“We sure it’s a ‘he’?” asked Fisher. The cell tower that had picked up the call was located on the top of a nearby building, but the fog was so thick Fisher couldn’t see it.
“Good point.”
“No other call, huh?”
“None,” said Macklin.
“Why do you figure that is?”
“Reprogrammed it or used a different cell phone.”
