IT SEEMED BOTH appropriate and ironic to Gabriel Reese that this odd, almost unprecedented middle-of-the-night meeting take place in a building originally built for the State, Navy, and War Departments. Reese lived by a deep sense of the historic in everything he did. Washington, you could say, was in his blood, in his family’s blood for three generations.
The vice president himself had called Reese, sounding more than a little tense, and Walter Tillman had run two Fortune 100 companies, so he knew a thing or two about pressure. He hadn’t given details, just told Reese to be at the Eisenhower Executive Office Building, now. Technically, this was the VP’s ceremonial office, the same one where veeps from Johnson through Cheney had welcomed leaders from every quadrant of the globe.
More apt and to the point, it was away from the West Wing and whatever eyes and ears this secret meeting was clearly designed to avoid.
The doors to the inner office were closed when Reese got there. Dan Cormorant, head of the White House’s Secret Service detail, was stationed outside with two other agents farther down the hall in either direction.
Reese let himself in. Cormorant followed and closed the heavy wood doors behind them.
“Sir?” said Reese.
Vice President Tillman stood with his back to them at the far end of the room. A row of windows reflected the glow of half-lit globes on an elaborate gasolier overhead, a reproduction. Several glass-encased ship models gave a more specific reference to the building’s history. This office had been General Pershing’s during World War I.
Tillman turned and spoke. “We’ve got a situation, Gabe. Come and sit down. This is not good. Hard to imagine how it could be much worse.”