10:19 A.M.
SS DORSET
NEW YORK HARBOR
Jenna paced back and forth inside her father’s office at the stern of the Dorset.
She’d been monitoring the effort to rescue President Dellenbaugh but her data feed was abruptly shut off. Her computer screen went bright green and a black rectangular digital box appeared. White lettering crossed the black rectangle:
I N D I G O S T A T U S: A C C E S S D E N I E D
She’d been shut off from the feed, some sort of elevated security classification she didn’t even know existed. Britain had a similar access level, called Claremont, to which she’d been privy. It was a communications platform at the highest echelon of government, induced at times of crisis—not simply war or a terrorist attack, more like apocalypse.
Bottom line, though, she was cut off.
She considered calling Calibrisi or Polk, but didn’t want to bother them if something worse was indeed happening, which it evidently was.
Jenna stood up and walked to a window. It showed the smoky skyline and she felt her very heart ache as she watched. It didn’t matter that it was not her home country. Instead, it was just a feeling of sadness, wondering why, in a world so filled with beauty and joy, such pain and suffering could exist at the same time. This day would change everything. She was surprised at how much love she had for her new country. Jenna had thought she would spend a year or two in the U.S. and then return to London. Now she didn’t want to leave. As much as she fought against it, she could only think of Dewey as she stared out the window.
When her cell beeped, she picked it up immediately.
“Hi,” said Dewey.
“Where are you?” said Jenna.
“In the tower. I have him but he’s almost flatline,” said Dewey. “I need a helicopter.”
“We just happen to have one right here. I’ll be right there,” said Jenna. “How long until you’re on the roof?”
“Five minutes,” said Dewey.
Jenna went to the deck and found her father.
“I need the helicopter, Dad,” said Jenna.
Farragut stared at her for several moments.
“I read Barnes’s dossier,” said Jenna. “He was a pilot in 902 Expeditionary Air Wing for five years. It will be up to him, of course.”
“I don’t care about the helicopter, but I do care about you, and I care about Barnes,” said Farragut. “I’m worried about you, sweetheart.”
“I know, Daddy. I’ll be okay,” she said. “This is my country now and I intend to help.”
Jenna tapped her ear.
“CENCOM, this is Jenna Hartford. I’ve heard from Dewey Andreas—he has the president. He’s alive but badly injured. I’m retrieving them in five minutes, by air. I need directions to a hospital with a helipad, and a trauma team on standby.”