MONTERREY, MEXICO
“I said it before and I’ll say it again: we simply cannot afford to wait,” insisted Roman Dalton. “Montoya is moving the terrorists north in three hours, and as soon as the sun goes down our window is gone.”
Monica sat across from him in the small conference room, staring at the satellite phone in between them.
“And I strongly recommend that we give Colonel Stark and his team time to land and get eyes on the ground before we get anywhere near that compound,” she stated. “To make sure this isn’t a setup.”
“Hold for a moment,” came the reply from the White House, where Porter, John Wright, and Lisa Jacobson were huddled in Wright’s office to take this emergency call that Monica had initiated.
She sat back in her chair and just stared at her current superior. Dalton didn’t seem as upset as she had expected, given that she had initiated the call and then invited Dalton to participate, essentially going over his head.
But she had no choice. Ten minutes ago, Lieutenant Alfonso Domingo had shared intelligence that the terrorists were shortening their planned stay in Monterrey.
“ASAC Cruz.” A female voice cracked on the small speaker. “Do you recognize my voice?”
Monica and Dalton leaned forward simultaneously. “Yes, Madam President,” she said.
“Do you not trust the GAFE forces deployed by President Gutierrez at my request?”
There it was.
It truly all boiled down to that simple question, which the president of the United States had just asked while Dalton leaned back and raised his palms in an I-told-you-so motion.
Realizing that the rest of her government career rested on her next words, Monica took a moment to think before replying, “To quote Ronald Reagan, Madam President, I want to ‘trust, but verify.’”
* * *
President Vaccaro leaned back and considered what the young FBI agent had just told her, and for a moment Monica Cruz reminded Vaccaro of herself.
She stared at John Wright and saw a glistening in his stare that conveyed understanding and even a bit of dark amusement. Because of the past they shared in country, John Wright would always know her better that anyone else in the White House, and Vaccaro knew that Wright knew that the Reagan quote was one of her all-time favorites.
* * *
A long pause, followed by, “So do I, ASAC Cruz. I also wish we had the time to verify, but we simply can’t take the chance. And I have just got off the phone again with President Gutierrez, who has assured me that the GAFE troops he’s deployed are his finest and most trustworthy.”
Monica held Dalton’s gaze before closing her eyes.
For reasons she could not explain, Monica suddenly felt a strange connection with President Vaccaro, something she could not put her finger on, but it was there, floating somewhere in the static connection.
“And that means we go,” added Vaccaro. “But we understand your hesitancy in trusting the locals, so we leave it to your discretion to delay as much as possible but remain within the new operational window. We don’t want to show up late for the party, understood?”
Monica and Dalton replied in unison, “Yes, Madam President.”
“Good,” Vaccaro said. “We have also tasked two satellites for your use, so communications and photos are available to you on demand. We’re giving the same information to Colonel Stark.”
Monica sat back, still not liking this, even when directed by the president, but she held her tongue.
“ASAC Cruz,” Vaccaro added, apparently reading her thoughts. “You were picked to be on this mission because you are the best of us. I know this situation is not optimal, but as my father used to say, ‘Figure it out and make it happen.’ To say your country depends on you would be understating what you’re doing. Okay?”
“Yes, Madam President,” she replied, staring at Dalton while the feeling in the back of her throat increased from a light scratch to a rake.