“The president wants to see you,” the DCI said.
“How’d it go with Haaris?”
“About how you expected it would. If he’s guilty of anything it’s being overly smooth. Miss Boylan just left with him to do the debriefing.”
“I want to listen in before I head over to the White House, because I already know what the president is likely to say to me.”
“I talked to her personally just now. She said you were to come immediately.”
McGarvey hesitated.
“Just get it over with, and try to be polite for a change. There’s never been a president who could do without you, but not one of them ever ended up liking you. Maybe this one will be different.”
“I doubt it. Have a car brought round for me.”
“Do you want a driver?”
“No.”
On the way down to Otto’s office, McGarvey explained where he was going. Otto gave him a cell phone.
“It should give me decent reception even from the Oval Office.”
“Good thing you’re on our side. I’m going to make it short and to the point.”
“She’ll have a witness, probably Susan Kalley.”
“Good.”
“What are you going to tell them?”
“The truth,” McGarvey said.
“I don’t think this president will like it very much.”
McGarvey was expected at the East Gate and was passed through without a credentials check. He turned the plain Chevy Impala with government plates around so that it was facing down the gentle hill, just past the door into the White House.
The president’s adviser on national security affairs had been alerted to his arrival and she met him. “Thank you for being so prompt, Mr. McGarvey.” She was dressed in a feminine business suit, medium heels, a scarf around her throat. A serious outfit for a serious moment.
McGarvey, on the other hand, wore khaki slacks, a white polo shirt and black blazer, boat shoes on his feet. His attitude was that he’d stopped over for a chat after just getting back from the front.
“Are you carrying a firearm, Mr. Director?” the marine guard asked.
“No.”
He followed Kalley across to the extremely busy West Wing.
“The Messiah has vanished,” she said. “Of course I’m sure that you knew this.”
“It’s a mess over there. Any word yet from India?”
“Their new aircraft carrier is standing about fifty miles off the coast from Karachi, and General Nasiri is screaming bloody murder, threatening to launch the air force to deal with the threat.”
“I don’t know the name.”
“Wasim Nasiri; he was the Pakistani army’s chief of staff and served as a defense minister. Sharp man, from what we’ve been told. Their parliament appointed him as temporary spokesman for the government, and the supreme court confirmed it last night. But I can tell you that he’s not made any difference so far. The country is in an almost total civil war. Some of the military units, especially up north and a few in the southwest, have joined the Taliban.”
“What about their remaining nuclear weapons?”
“Nasiri assured us that they are safe.”
“Do you believe him?” McGarvey asked at the open door to the Oval Office.
“No,” Kalley said.
The president, her jacket hanging over the back of her desk chair, was just getting off the phone when they came in. “The Messiah has vanished,” she said.
Kalley closed the door.
“Did you manage to assassinate him?”
“I met him face-to-face, and in fact he has not disappeared. He is here in the States, at Langley.”
“The CIA has him in custody?”
“Not yet. He’s one of ours, and no one else but me is convinced he played the role.”
“Haaris,” Kalley said.
“Yes.”
“I want to see him here,” the president said, reaching for the phone.
“That wouldn’t be smart, Madam President,” McGarvey said.
“What did you say?”
“If I’m right he is a dangerous man who wouldn’t hesitate to kill you.”
“If he tried to get in with a gun he’d never get past the sentries.”
“He wouldn’t need a weapon.”
The president looked as if she was on the verge of exploding. “You’re convinced that David Haaris and the Messiah are one and the same man?”
“Yes, ma’am”
“You idiot,” Kalley said. “By your meddling you damned well might have sparked the breakdown.”
“That will be enough,” Miller said.
Kalley didn’t want to quit.
“Leave us now,” the president said.
Reluctantly Kalley got to her feet, glaring at McGarvey, and walked out of the Oval Office.
“I asked you here to thank you, not only for what you did in Pakistan, but for what you’ve done, and what you’ve given, for your country. Unfortunately, there’ll be no medals, nor ceremonies on the lawn.” The president got up and came around her desk. McGarvey rose and she extended her hand. “It’s all I can do for now.”
McGarvey smiled, and shook hands. “It’s enough for now,” he said.
Miller read something in his eyes. “It’s not over yet.”
“No, ma’am.”
“Then don’t let me keep you.”
Outside, McGarvey walked down the hall the same way he’d come in. Kalley was nowhere in sight. At the east door he nodded to the marine sentry.
“Have a good day, Mr. Director.”
Outside he got in the Chevy, drove directly down to the gate that led to East Executive Drive and was passed through.
He picked up his cell phone. “I’m out,” he said.
“Where are you going?” Otto asked.
“After Haaris.”
“He’s still here on Campus, and you don’t want do anything there. He’ll fight back, and there could be a lot of collateral damage. Go to my place, out of his way. I’ll give Louise the heads-up.”
“I’ll do better on my own,” McGarvey said.
“No, you won’t. Anyway, don’t be so goddamned stubborn, for once in your life. We’ve done this bullshit together a long time; let’s not change the game in midstream. I’ll let you know when he’s on the move.”
“Depending how it goes with Pete, he might just try to see the president. But whatever happens, it has to be me who takes him down. He’ll take anyone out who gets close to him.”
SIXTY-EIGHT
Haaris left the small conference room where Pete had debriefed him for the past twenty minutes, his heart skipping a beat in every six or seven despite his outward calm, and took the elevator down to the first floor.
McGarvey had managed somehow to escape from the ISI, and later that night a SEAL Team Six helicopter had picked him up and taken him and Miss Boylan across the border to Jalalabad. The worst of it was that both of them were convinced that he was the Messiah, though apparently they had only the slightest glimmer of his motivations and absolutely none of what was coming next.
She had refused to tell him where McGarvey was at the moment, but it was a real possibility that he could be here on Campus.
“We’ve determined that the Messiah’s voice was electronically modified. We’ve had a computer program working the problem since the first speech, and we’ve come up with a number of certainties. The speaker was born in Pakistan, most likely in Lahore. He got his education in England, starting as a young boy, and his diction, grammar and manners are of the old school. He’s in his late thirties and has spent some time, perhaps years, in the States. The programs picked up a few traces of an American accent. Northeast.”
“Interesting,” Haaris had said.
“The profile fits you, Mr. Haaris. Can you explain that?”