In the southeastern region of Ukraine, a red line demarked the front line in the war between Russia and Ukraine, with Russia still controlling a corridor of territory connecting Russia and the Crimea. A few kilometers to the northwest of the red line were two concentrations of green icons representing Ukrainian forces marshaled for a surprise assault, with one strike force situated southeast of Zaporizhia and another south of Pokrovsk.
There was no movement from the green icons as American and Ukrainian military commands assessed the effectiveness of the Tomahawk strikes. It would take hours for detailed assessments, but a preliminary call would have to be made within the next few minutes, with Ukraine’s military hierarchy deciding whether to commence their offensive or not.
Moments later, the green icons started moving — southeast from Zaporizhia and south from Pokrovsk — with both forces aiming to reach the northern shore of the Sea of Azov, cutting off over a hundred thousand Russian troops in the land corridor between the two assaults. It was obvious that the Tomahawk attack had been successful, and the preliminary results soon flowed into the Situation Room. The Russian formations at the two points of attack had been obliterated by the precision strikes.
CIA Deputy Director Monroe Bryant, seated at the table with the president, sensed an air of satisfaction in the room, with the United States delivering payback for Russia’s assassination of Secretary of Defense Tom Glass and its attacks in the Persian Gulf. However, he wasn’t exactly sure why he had been invited to the Situation Room for tonight’s event, given that the CIA had played no role in it.
“That’ll be all for tonight,” the president announced.
As people started filing out of the Situation Room, the president turned to Bryant. “Stay for a moment.”
The Situation Room emptied aside from the president and Bryant, plus Vice President Bob Tompkins, Chief of Staff Kevin Hardison, and FBI Director Bill Guisewhite. Once the conference room door was closed, the president spoke.
“There’s the matter of Brenda Verbeck to resolve.” Turning to Guisewhite, the president asked, “What do you have, Bill?”
“Just Christine’s testimony about what Mixell told her in the warehouse in Alexandria — that Brenda had hired Mixell to assassinate you. We haven’t been able to identify any messages between Verbeck and Mixell, nor trace any payments to him from her accounts or from those of her family, associates, or business partners. If she’s the one who hired Mixell, she’s covered her tracks well.”
“Again,” Bryant announced.
The president raised his eyebrows, and Bryant explained. “During the incident with Rolow, Verbeck revealed to Christine that she was the one who coerced him into eliminating the two Navy personnel who could have exposed her brother’s sale of centrifuges to Iran. On two occasions now, Verbeck has been tied to murder. Does she need a third strike?”
The president reflected on Bryant’s comments, then replied, “I’m confident that Christine isn’t lying. And unless she’s hallucinated both of these conversations, we have a very serious problem on our hands — what to do about Brenda Verbeck.”
There was silence around the table until Vice President Tompkins spoke. “Letting Brenda walk after the previous incident was a mistake. The issue needs to be addressed, but nothing official. The initial concern remains: letting the press and Congress know that a senior member of the president’s administration was involved in these plots is a potentially devastating revelation this close to the election.”
“I agree,” the president acknowledged. “I’ve reflected on this matter considerably over the last few days and have made a decision. Considering that Brenda hired Mixell to bomb the White House and assassinate me, which is undoubtedly an act of domestic terrorism, I have decided to classify Brenda as an enemy combatant.”
Bryant did his best not to reveal his surprise at the president’s decision. After a quick reflection, however, Bryant conceded that the classification was certainly within the president’s prerogative.
The president turned to Bryant. “Do you understand how I want this matter handled?”
“I do,” Bryant replied.
“How soon can this be taken care of?”
“Not long, Mr. President. Not long at all.”
88
LURAY, VIRGINIA
Discovered in 1878 by Andrew and William Campbell, along with Benton Stebbins, after the trio detected a rush of cold air from a limestone sinkhole, Luray Caverns are the largest and most popular caverns in the eastern United States, featuring enormous chambers filled with towering stone columns, shimmering draperies, and crystal-clear pools. Designated as a Registered Natural Landmark, Luray Caverns also features a half dozen other attractions, including a one-acre maze of eight-foot-tall evergreen hedges.
It was almost noon when Brenda Verbeck’s silver Mercedes-Benz SL roadster coasted into a parking spot near the maze entrance. It had been an hour-and-a-half drive from her home in Potomac, Maryland, making the trip after receiving a message from Christine O’Connor, who had requested a meeting at noon today to discuss a sensitive matter. Brenda was twenty minutes early, so she ordered a cup of coffee from the Stalactite Café and took a seat with a view of the maze entrance.
Standing by the entrance were two men in suits — CIA protective agents by the look of them — and Brenda noticed that they were preventing guests from entering the maze. It was almost noon when she finished her coffee and moved toward the entrance. The two men scrutinized her as she approached, but made no attempt to stop her from entering.
Once inside the maze, she pulled her cell phone out. She had never been through this maze and had no intention of wasting time. After launching a map app, she selected the satellite view and zoomed in on the maze. It took only a moment to identify the quickest way to the center, where she would meet with Christine.
A few minutes later, after spotting no one else in the maze along the way, she reached the center via one of its two entrances. It was an open space containing a large square fountain. On one side of the fountain sat a man, not Christine O’Connor as Brenda expected. She recognized him — one of the two CIA officers who had arrived at Rolow’s home during her and Rolow’s confrontation with Christine. Brenda wasn’t sure what type of officer he was, paramilitary probably, by the look of him. But she remembered his name: Harrison. Jake Harrison.
Brenda stopped before him. “I don’t believe we’ve been formally introduced,” she said, extending her hand. “Brenda Verbeck.”
Harrison stood and shook her hand, introducing himself as well, confirming that she had correctly recalled his name. He gestured to the edge of the fountain and waited for Brenda to sit before joining her.
“Thank you for coming,” he said. “Unfortunately, Christine sends her regrets. She’s unable to attend today, and I’ve been assigned to meet with you instead.”
“I heard about what that terrible man, Mixell, did to her,” Brenda said. “I’m so glad he’s dead.”
“I’m sure you are,” Harrison replied.
“How is Christine doing?”
“She’s recuperating.”
“Well, please pass on my wishes for a speedy and full recovery.”
Harrison smiled. “Of course.”
“What did Christine want to talk about?”
“I don’t know what she would have said to you, but I’ll probably be more direct. You got away with murder before, but this time your luck has run out.”