“You and me both,” Alex said. “The boss’s White House briefing has been pushed back to two, but he’d like to know if anything interesting showed up in the overnights.”
“I expected he would,” Whiteside said. He handed Alex a gray folder marked TOP SECRET. “The Pakis walked out on their talks in New Delhi six hours ago.”
A delegation from Pakistan had been in New Delhi for the past four days, trying to hammer out a nuclear disarmament treaty with their Indian counterparts. It was something President Langdon wanted very badly. He had been working with both governments for the past nine months to bring it about.
“They’ve run back to their embassy before.”
“They should be landing in Rawalpindi anytime now.”
“It’s serious, then.”
“The White House won’t be happy.”
Alex patted him on the arm. “They don’t shoot the messenger any longer.”
“Let’s hope not.”
Whiteside was one of the people on campus who Alex liked. He was a dedicated man who was happy with what he did because he loved his country. He was anything but cynical.
“I’ll let myself out,” she said, and opened the door in time to see McGarvey and a woman get out of the elevator with a man she would have recognized from across a football field.
She closed the door.
Whiteside had gone back to his desk. He looked up. “Forget something?”
“If we get anything new from our Islamabad and New Delhi stations, Mr. Page will want to know before he goes over to the White House. He’ll be leaving around one thirty, so anything at all until then.”
“I figured as much. I’ll give O’Connor the heads-up when he comes in.” Dale O’Connor was the incoming shift supervisor.
“Let’s hope it’s good news for a change.”
THIRTY-FOUR
McGarvey had to go through a major rigmarole to get Schermerhorn past the main gate and then badged so he could be taken upstairs to the seventh floor.
“So this is our Alpha Seven operator,” Page said when they walked in.
“What time are you expecting your secretary?” McGarvey asked.
“Why?”
“She might be the one.”
“I don’t think so. She’s been with me for my entire tenure. Damned fine worker, bright, loyal.”
“Sounds like Alex,” Schermerhorn said. “I just want to take a look at her, and then we’ll check the others.”
Page looked at him as if he were a disagreeable insect. “I sent her to the Watch for an update on the overnights.”
“I’ll check to see if she left her purse behind,” Pete said.
“If it’s her, she wouldn’t carry anything incriminating,” McGarvey said. “Just close the door, please.”
“I don’t like this, Mac,” Page said. “I’ve built a damned fine staff loyal to me because I trust them.”
“We’re not going to ask her any questions,” McGarvey said. “When she gets back from the Watch, ask her to bring you the overnights. Schermerhorn will take a look at her, and when she leaves, it’ll be up to him for the identification, and you for the next move. But you did ask for my help.”
Page had been standing behind his desk. He nodded and sat down. “Nothing like this has ever happened here. The few people who have any idea what’s been going on are frightened out of their minds, and the rest on campus don’t know what to make of the tightened security. They know something’s up. But not what, and it’s got them on edge.”
They all sat down across from him.
“How’s the situation between Pakistan and India coming along?” Schermerhorn asked unexpectedly.
Page was taken by surprise. “What?”
“Nuclear disarmament. It’s important out there. Christ, we don’t need a nuclear war, because no matter how local it is, once the genie’s out of the jar, it’ll spread.”
“What the hell are you talking about?” Page asked.
Pete gave McGarvey a questioning look, but he motioned no. He suspected Schermerhorn was trying to tell them something in his oblique way. NOCs, even when they were telling the truth, never told it straight on. They tested the waters first. Always.
“I read the newspapers and the blogs — between the lines. Every now and then even al-Qaeda hits it on the head. Bin Laden kicked the Russians out of Afghanistan. Didn’t make him stupid afterward, just rabid.”
“I still have no idea what you’re talking about.”
Schermerhorn shook his head. “Goddamn bureaucrats. Linear thinkers.”
“Enough of this.”
“Be careful where you tread, Mr. Director. One of these days something just may rise up out of the dust and bite you squarely on the ass.”
Page’s intercom buzzed. It was his secretary.
“Mr. Whiteside has an update on the situation in New Delhi. May I bring it in?”
Page hesitated, but McGarvey motioned yes.
“Please do,” the DCI said.
Alex walked in, nodded to the others, her expression neutral, and handed the file folder to Page. “Mr. Whiteside said if anything new comes up before one thirty, they’ll let you know.”
“Thanks, Dotty.”
Alex walked out, closing the door softly behind her.
She reached her desk, picked up her phone, and hit 70# in time to hear Page say: “Well?”
Schermerhorn was there; she’d recognized him the moment their eyes had met.
“I don’t know,” he said. “I mean, I’m not sure.”
“Be sure,” McGarvey said. “Otherwise, we’re talking about an innocent woman.”
It was a fabrication. She’d heard it in Roy’s voice. He was lying for her benefit because somehow they knew she was listening in.
She pulled her Glock 29 pistol and silencer from its elastic holster attached to the underside of the bottom drawer, stuffed it into her purse, and slipped out the door.
A few people had started to show up, and she smiled and nodded as she made her way down the corridor and around the corner, stopping only long enough to make sure no one was coming after her.
Taking the stairs down two at a time, she reached the second floor before an alarm sounded.
“Attention, Security, OHB is currently under lockdown. This is just a drill. Repeat, the OHB is currently under lockdown. This is just a drill.”
She sprinted the rest of the way down to the parking garage. The stairwell doors were only locked from the outside. No security procedures were required to exit; nevertheless, she pulled out her pistol, shifted her bag to her left shoulder, and held the pistol at her side.
A lot would depend on the next sixty seconds. If the lockdown included the garage, the security barriers would be raised from the floor at the driveway out and she would be stuck here.
She pulled open the door and stepped out just as a security officer she only vaguely recognized came around the corner at the elevator door, twenty feet away. His sidearm was holstered.
He turned to her. “Sorry, ma’am, we’re under lockdown. You’ll have to go back up.”
Alex walked directly toward him, her eyes on his.
“Didn’t you hear?” the officer asked. His name tag read: SOLDIER.
Alex raised her pistol and pointed it at him. “Lay your weapon and your radio on the floor along with your security badge, and then step back.”
The man reached for his gun.
She changed aim to his head. “I don’t want to kill you, but I will. Do as I told you, immediately.”