The screen went blank before cutting back to the Al Jazeera news anchor.
Inside the President’s lounge, nobody spoke. They were all digesting the horrors of the video and the impact it had on themselves and ultimately what it meant for America.
Finally, Carson broke the silence. “Well that’s not helpful,” he remarked, summing up perfectly how everyone felt.
Chapter 52
“Jeff Lewis is a grade A asshole,” said Turner, as he and Carson exited the White House residence.
“Practice makes perfect and he’s been practicing being an asshole his entire life,” joked Carson. “Although, to be fair, if you want to run for office, there is no better guy to get you there.”
Turner opened the driver’s door. “I can’t believe you give that guy any credit!” “It was me that recommended him to President Mitchell,” said Carson, climbing into the passenger seat and leaving a speechless Turner holding the door handle. “He does his thing and I do my thing.”
“But what exactly is it you do? I mean, what is your title?” asked Turner, sliding into this seat. He realized then just how out of his league he really was.
“Titles are just something people get hung up on. Did you know it’s the number one cause for labor disputes? If I don’t have one, people can’t pin me down on an organizational chart. For example, you have the FBI Director above you, the Deputy AG above him, the AG and then the President. You’re four steps removed from the President. Lots of people are more senior than you. Every person at Justice who reports to the Deputy AG is more senior than you, according to the organizational chart.”
“So what do you do?” pushed Turner.
“I do what’s needed,” Carson replied mysteriously.
“And Al Zahrani needed to be captured, why?”
Turner pulled the car out of the White House gates. He had been keen to know why since Jeff Lewis had belittled him over it.
“You wanted him and I couldn’t think of a reason why not,” replied Carson with a smile.
“Bullshit!” said Turner. He was beginning to think there was another agenda at play, one he was most definitely not in on.
Carson stayed silent, further antagonizing Turner. The silence hung in the air until they arrived back at NCTC. Carson, it seemed, was very comfortable with silence. Turner was not. He slammed his door and marched unhappily into the center, barking orders at anyone below him on the organizational chart, essentially everyone in the center.
“Power is something you earn, it’s not something you’re given,” said Carson as he followed Turner into his office.
“Who said that?” asked Turner, his temper barely holding.
“I read it on a fortune cookie,” said Carson. His cell rang, interrupting his fun. Few people knew the number to that cell. He exited the office quickly and jogged down the hall to his own.
“Yes?” he answered, closing his office door behind him, something he never did.
“We’ve carried out an exhaustive background check,” said the voice.
He was about to ask on whom but realized it was Frankie. He had meant to cancel it the following day; it had been a kneejerk reaction.
“I meant to cancel that request,” he said apologetically at the thought of the amount of man hours and work that would have been expended.
“It’s just as well you didn’t, we found something interesting.”
Chapter 53
“Say that again,” said Carson, hoping he had misheard what had been said.
The caller repeated exactly, word for word, what he hoped they hadn’t said the first time around.
He ended the call and sat for a moment as the implications of the news hit home. Had Nick Geller known? And if so, why had he chosen her? It seemed inconceivable that he didn’t know. The chances of it being a coincidence, something he didn’t believe in to begin with, were so remote that Nick must have known.
All the time Carson was thinking, he wasn’t doing anything. The easiest course of action would be to go down to the operations center floor and alert everybody. That, however, would be such a betrayal of Frankie’s right to privacy that he couldn’t do it. He had grown fond of her and was not going to destroy her publicly. He needed help and bizarrely there was only one person who could help. He picked up the phone and called Barry.
Barry rushed into the room a minute later, more than happy to help a cap-in-hand Carson. The idea that Harry Carson would ‘owe him one’ was not something he was going to pass up.
“Thanks for coming so quickly, Barry,” said Carson, motioning for him to shut the door behind him.
“Anything I can do to help,” Barry offered cheerily.
“I need you to contact your lead CIA guy on the flight with Al Zahrani and order him and his team not to leave Al Zahrani’s side.”
Barry squinted, reading between the lines. “Is there a problem on the plane?”
“Not if you do as I say.”
“I should warn my guys if you think there’s a problem… they can land and —”
“Look, just do it and I’ll owe you one, okay?!” insisted Carson.
Barry picked up his cell and contacted his CIA counterpart on the flight. After a short conversation catching up, he turned the conversation to Carson’s request and put the phone onto speaker. “Steve, would you mind babysitting Al Zahrani all the way here?” he asked.
“Not a problem, he’s going nowhere,” said Steve confidently.
“Excellent,” said Barry looking at Carson for approval.
“Is he with him now?” asked Carson.
Barry repeated the question.
“Yes,” replied Steve.
“Good, just don’t let him out of your sight,” reiterated Barry.
“What, literally?”
“Jesus!” barked Carson, grabbing the phone. “Can you see Al Zahrani at this very moment?”
“Who is this?” asked Steve irritably.
“It’s fine, Steve, it’s Harry Carson, just answer,” said Barry.
“Not physically, but he’s in the rear cabin and no one can get to him without going through us.”
“Would you mind putting Frankie on the phone with me please? And then I want you and your team not to let Al Zahrani out of your sight. Go into the rear cabin with him and don’t leave his side, literally.”
“Should I interrupt her?”
“Is she sleeping?”
“No,” he said a little confused. “She’s questioning Al Zahrani as per your orders and we weren’t to disturb her.”
“Disturb her!!!” Carson yelled, panicking now.
Barry’s stunned face looked at Carson while the shuffling and door opening noises came through the phone line as Steve rushed towards the rear cabin. A bang on the door went unanswered and was followed by the sound of a door being smashed open.
“Oh fuck!” Steve bellowed.
“What? What is it?” said Carson.
He was desperate to know what Frankie had done with the pedophile who had raped her when she was twelve.
When the image of the man who had raped her when she was a child appeared on the screen, Frankie had almost fainted on the spot. It was an image she had never been able to visualize in her mind but one she instantly recognized. The new Caliph, although many years older now, was the man who had crept into her bedroom late one night. Frankie and her parents had been visiting relatives in Riyadh, Saudi Arabia, and the main purpose of the trip was to introduce Frankie to her mother’s heritage. It would be the only trip and contact she would ever have with her Saudi relatives.
The new Caliph had done things that no innocent twelve-year-old could comprehend or be able to forget. As he pinned her to her bed, she had vowed she would one day have the strength and resolve to fight back. When he had stepped onto the Osprey, bound and gagged, she had stayed out of sight, not wanting to alert him to her presence. Not that she looked anything like the young child he had abused and defiled. She wanted to scream and shout “rapist!”, “pedophile!” but that would deprive her of her chance. Despite her stomach being tied in knots, she remained calm and argued why she should accompany the monster home.