Washington

Craig left Jill’s house with two copies of the fake CDs she had prepared, following Craig’s directive: describe a long-range missile system, close to PGS in content, but containing only public information. Craig could have had someone pick them up. But he wanted to meet with Jill, provide her with a status report on the operation, and check on security at her house.

It seemed solid. Two men in the house around the clock. At least one awake at all times. A third man to drive Tracy to and from school, baseball games, and anywhere else.

Jill had to be feeling cabin fever, but she was in good spirits, Craig thought. She told him, “I work out on the exercise equipment in the house. Also, I tell myself, suppose you were on a submarine. You couldn’t leave that.”

Back at CIA headquarters, Craig gave Betty Jill’s bogus CDs.

“I’ll have techies install micro tracking devices on each set.”

“Any luck tracing where the million dollars came from that Orlov wired to Jill’s account?”

She shook her head. “The trail stops at an Andorra bank that won’t divulge a thing. We could ratchet up the pressure.”

“Leave it alone. We don’t want to scare Orlov into going into a hole.”

After Betty left, Craig’s cell rang. It was Elizabeth. “I just received a video on my phone that you have to see.” Her voice was charged with emotion.

“Where are you?”

“Home in Georgetown. Are you at the office?”

“Yeah. I just got back from Jill’s.”

“Is she okay?”

“All things considered.”

“Don’t leave. I’m on my way.”

Twenty minutes later, Elizabeth arrived and handed him her phone. He activated the video; then nearly flew through the roof of the CIA headquarters building.

On the screen, he saw President Zhou and Androshka naked in bed. Zhou pulled a gun from the end table. Androshka was running toward the door. Zhou shot her once in the back. She turned toward him and fell to her knees. He shot her two more times. She wasn’t moving. Zhou walked over and felt her pulse. He threw a blanket over her head.

“Where did you get this?” Craig asked.

“From Mei Ling. Before forwarding it, she called and told me that she got it from a friend who hates Zhou along with many others in Chinese leadership positions. According to her friend, a member of the Central Committee received the video from a servant of Zhou’s in the Presidential House who also hates Zhou.

“This is a game changer for us,” Craig said. “Now we can seize Orlov when he meets you in Rock Creek Park Thursday night. I’ll show him the video of Zhou murdering his beloved sister. That should be enough to turn him against Zhou and persuade him to work with us to nail Zhou.”

“I figured as much. That’s why I raced out here.”

“What’d you tell Mei Ling?”

“I thanked her and said we would use it carefully.”

“Your relationship with Mei Ling has been invaluable.”

A cellphone in Elizabeth’s bag rang. Craig watched her pull out Jill’s cellphone with a worried look on her face.

Craig heard her say, “Yes. I understand what you’re saying… No. I don’t know if I can do that… You have to give me some time to think about it… Of course I heard you about the two million… I need time. I’ll let you know tomorrow.”

She put down the phone. “That was Orlov. He wants to move the location for our exchange to the Czech Republic. I’m supposed to fly Thursday evening to Paris. Then connect to Prague, bringing the CDs with me. He’ll meet me at Prague Airport. As a sign of good faith, he’ll transfer two more million to my bank account as soon as
I agree to come.”

“Did he tell you why he made the change?”

“Just that it would be easier that way. I still want to go through with the exchange the same as I was planning to do in Washington.”

“It’ll be much more dangerous.”

“I’m prepared to take the risk.”

“Hey, wait a minute,” Craig said. “I’ll bet I know why Orlov made the change.”

“What do you think’s happening?”

“They’ve learned Jill’s a dangle. We have a leak on our team. Orlov was tipped off. Or Zhou was tipped off and told Orlov to change the location.”

“You really think so?”

“There is no other explanation.”

Craig thought about the last Task Force meeting. Leeds and Hennessey were so vocal in their opposition. One of them could have been the source of the leak.

Craig called Betty into his office and explained the situation.

“You’d probably like me to tap the phones of Leeds and Hennessey,” she said. “Well, it’s a nonstarter. Not the FBI Director and Assistant Secretary of State.”

“Even I know we can’t do that without Treadwell’s approval, which we’d never get.”

“So what’s the backup plan?”

“We start more modestly. Get me bios of Leeds and Hennessey.”

Ten minutes later, Betty handed him and Elizabeth the bios. Leeds had a boring resume. Lawyer, federal district judge in Nebraska, then FBI Director. Married with three children. Not a damn thing of interest.

Craig turned to Hennessey. Not married. No children. Princeton undergrad. Harvard MBA. Then ten years of employment with Hansell Gray Investment Banking firm in New York before joining the State Department.

Craig read the last sentence. Hansell Gray… Hansell Gray…
Bells went off in Craig’s brain. Loud, clear bells. Hansell Gray was William March’s investment bank.

March, the devil incarnate. March, the worst traitor in United States history to receive a free pass… a get out of jail card… an escape from the electric chair… a presidential decision not even to prosecute.

Thinking about Brewster’s decision on March made Craig’s blood boil.

He closed his eyes and saw March pointing a gun at him in Kirby’s father Aspen home. March would have killed him but for Elizabeth.

Craig opened his eyes. “Well isn’t that nice,” he said.

“William March,” Elizabeth said, before Craig had a chance to explain what he was thinking.

Damn, she was smart. She always got it.

“Where does Hennessey live?” Craig asked Betty.

“I have an address on River Road in Potomac, Maryland.”

“The land of mansions. He must have made a bundle at Hansell Gray.”

“Or it’s family money,” Elizabeth added.

Craig turned to Betty. “Check with Hennessey’s secretary. See if he’s in town. Tell her I’m thinking of scheduling a Task Force meeting tomorrow.”

Betty placed the call. “He’s here,” she said.

Craig checked his watch. A little past four. “Rush hour traffic to Potomac is a bitch. I better get started if I want to get there before Hennessey. Meantime, I’d like you to stay in the office this evening, Betty.” He turned to Elizabeth. “You should go home. I’ll see you there.”

“You want to tell us what you’re planning to do with Hennessey?” Betty asked.

“You don’t want to know.”

Hennessey lived in a huge estate that Craig estimated to be in the eight million plus range. With three large, round white columns in front, the house was set back from River Road, at the end of a long driveway that gradually sloped upwards. The grounds were perfectly manicured.

As Phillip, his driver, made the circle in front of the house, Craig noticed the house was dark inside. Craig reached for the door handle and asked Philip to go back to River Road and wait about a quarter of a mile away.

It only took Craig twenty seconds to pick the lock and another twenty to disarm the security system in the dark house.

Craig walked through the house to make certain it was empty. Even into the wine cellar. Hennessey had good taste. Only cases of Margaux, Mouton, and Haut Brion. Must be nice to be rich and drink five hundred dollar bottles of wine every night.

Satisfied no one else was there, Craig sat down in the living room; and he waited.

An hour and a half later, he heard a car drive up, the garage door go up, and a key in a side door.

As soon as Craig saw Hennessey walk into the entrance hall, and turn on the lights, Craig stood up and came forward. “Hello, RJ.”

Hennessey jumped back in surprise. “How’d you get in?”

“Your security isn’t very good.”

“What do you want?”

“Come with me into the living room. I think we should talk.”

Hennessey turned on a couple of lamps and sat down on the sofa. Craig was in a wing-back chair facing him.

“What do you want?” Hennessey repeated.

“Tell me the last time you met or spoke with William March.”

“We had dinner in Washington last week at the Capital Grille. The same day as the Task Force meeting. Whichever day that was. Why do you want to know?”

“What’d you talk about?” Craig said in a sharp, accusatory tone.

“Why are you asking me?”

“You’re in a lot of trouble. Now answer the question.”

“I want to call a lawyer.”

“Is that how they taught you to respond at Princeton? Or maybe in the Harvard MBA Program. Plenty of those hot shots on Wall Street need lawyers.”

Hennessey pulled a cellphone from his pocket.

Before he had a chance to dial, Craig removed a gun from a shoulder holster. “Drop the phone and answer the question.”

“Or what?”

“I’ll shoot your left knee cap first. Then I’ll move onto the right one if I have to. Generally I don’t. The pain is too great.”

Hennessey was perspiring. The phone fell out of his hand and hit the floor with a thud. “You can’t do this.”

“But I am. You put Jill Morgan’s life at risk. The woman whose safety you were so worried about. You don’t deserve to live.”

Hennessey’s hands were shaking.

“Now answer my question.”

“It was a social dinner. Bill and I talked about lots of things.”

“And you told him about the Task Force meeting that day. How upset you were that I was putting Jill Morgan out there as a dangle. Didn’t you?”

“Yes. Because I thought what you were doing was wrong.” Speaking in a self-righteous tone, Hennessey continued, “And your attitude toward us was outrageous. Nobody elected you president. You were treating us like schoolchildren. Not your professional equals who could have helped formulate policy. It made me so sick that I decided to leave the government. I wanted to go back to Hansell Gray. I was treated with more respect there.”

“What did March say?”

“That you were a real shit and didn’t care about anybody else.”

“Are you aware that your friend, March, committed treason against the United States a year and a half ago, when he was Ambassador to China, and wasn’t charged because of political considerations?”

The color drained from Hennessey’s face. “Is that true? I had
no idea.”

“Give me all of March’s contact info. Telephone numbers and home address.”

Hennessey reeled them off from memory while Craig wrote
them down.

Then Craig called Betty and explained what he had learned from Hennessey. “Have someone check the records of all of March’s phones and email. I’m looking for any communications with anyone in China. Also check flight manifests for the last week. New York or Washington to Beijing or Shanghai. See if William March was a passenger.”

Thirty minutes later, Betty called with the information.

“At ten forty-eight on the evening March had dinner with Hennessey, March used his cell phone to call Beijing. The next day he flew from New York to Beijing. He returned the following day.”

“Perfect,” Craig told Betty. “Set up the safe house on Route 29 near Charlottesville for a visitor this evening. Have two agents come out to Hennessey’s house to pick him up and take him to the safe house.”

Craig called Philip to come to Hennessey’s house. Then he turned to Hennessey. “I’m putting you into protective custody for a few days for your own protection. If March learned what you just told me, he’d kill you. Besides you leaked confidential information to him. It’ll be up to the AG to decide whether to charge you.”

“You can’t just do this summarily. I’m an American citizen. We have laws in this country.”

“That’s true, but since 9/11 they’ve gotten a little squishy where matters of national security are involved.”

While waiting for Philip, Craig instructed Hennessey to call his office and put a message on his secretary’s voice mail, telling her that Hennessey would be going out of town on State Department business for a few days.

Once Philip arrived, Craig handed him the gun and said, “Watch Hennessey until two of our people come to pick him up.”

“Will do, Mr. Page.”

“Oh, and give me the keys. I need the car. They’ll drop you somewhere convenient when they’re taking Hennessey to Charlottesville.”

Once Craig got into the car, he checked his watch. Eight o’clock in the evening. He called Ralph Donovan, the president’s Chief of Staff. “I have to see President Treadwell.”

“Can it wait until morning?”

“Unfortunately not.”

Craig heard a sigh, “Hold on. I’ll check.”

A minute later, Donovan was back. “The president will meet you in the Oval Office at ten o’clock this evening.”

“Thanks. Please tell him I’ll have Elizabeth Crowder with me. Also, I think it would be good if you could have Attorney General Wilson there or someone high ranking from DOJ. It’s time to make this legal.”

Exactly at ten, Craig and Elizabeth filed into the Oval Office. The AG, Treadwell, and Donovan were already there. The AG and Donovan, dressed in suits and ties; Treadwell in slacks and an open collar shirt.

There was a fourth man whom Craig didn’t recognize. Dignified and patrician was how Craig would have described him. About sixty, with a full head of gray hair, dressed in a starched white shirt with diamond studded French cuffs and a red silk Hermes tie, loosened at the neck. No jacket.

Treadwell made the introductions. “Craig and Elizabeth, you know Donovan, my Chief of Staff, and the Attorney General.”

Craig and Elizabeth nodded. Treadwell pointed to the other man. “This is Edward Bryce. He’s a close friend, powerful Washington lawyer, and my informal advisor on certain sensitive issues. We were having dinner upstairs, so I asked Edward to join us.”

Craig picked up the ball. “Sorry to disturb all of you, but I believe this is extremely important.”

“You have our attention,” Treadwell said.

Craig described everything that had happened beginning with Orlov’s call to Elizabeth changing the meeting to Europe. He left out the threats he made to Hennessey. At the end, he said, “I want you to arrest William March, charge him with treason, and put him in solitary confinement. No phone calls permitted so he can’t tip off President Zhou.”

“That bastard, March,” Treadwell said.

Wilson, heavy-set, jowly and ruddy-faced, looked as if he’d had several drinks at dinner. And why not, Craig thought. He hadn’t expected to be called to the White House this evening.

“You won’t like to hear this,” the AG said to Craig. “But the evidence you presented to arrest March, much less subject him to the drastic treatment you want, is simply insufficient.” The AG held out his hands, palms up, as if he were making an argument to a jury. “What do you have? A dinner discussion and a call and trip to Beijing, where we have no idea whom he met. Talk about circumstantial evidence.”

Craig felt as if the air was sputtering out of his balloon.

The AG continued. “I sense that you have a history with March that I’m not aware of, but that won’t fill the gap.”

The AG looked at the president. “You understand what I’m saying?”

Treadwell replied, “I do. However, the history here is quite relevant. This all happened under your predecessor, Attorney General Wes Simmons, when Brewster was president. Craig had built an ironclad case of treason against March. Simmons studied the evidence and concluded it was sufficient. But he persuaded Brewster that a public trial would have a devastating effect on our relations with China. So Brewster let March walk. It was all kept secret. I was then Chairman of the Senate Intelligence Committee. Brewster briefed me. I disagreed with his decision and tried to convince him to prosecute, but he wouldn’t budge.”

The AG perked up. “What kind of case was it? Give me the short version.”

Craig responded, “March aided Chinese General Zhou, now their president, in a plot with Iran to cut off the flow of imported oil to the U.S., wrecking the American economy, and leapfrogging China over the United States in world domination.”

“When was this?”

“About a year and a half ago.”

The AG replied, “So the statute of limitations hasn’t run.”

Bryce interjected, “You could arrest March now and charge him with both that prior situation and this one. All of which would justify the solitary confinement Craig wants.”

Treadwell was nodding. “I’m on board.”

“Where’s March live?” the AG asked.

Craig gave him the Park Avenue address he’d gotten from Hennessey. The AG said, “I’ll go outside and call the head of the New York FBI office. Have them arrest March immediately. I’ll let you know when that happens.”

Craig glanced at Elizabeth who was smiling. He mouthed the word, “Yes.” She rolled her hand into a fist.

After the AG left, Treadwell said to Craig and Elizabeth, “Now tell me the status of your operation in connection with PGS. Let’s decide where we go from here after the leak.”

Craig replied, “Since we’re now finished with legal issues, I don’t know if Mister Bryce…”

Treadwell cut him off. “I fully trust Edward with our most confidential information.”

Craig didn’t like airing this information with a non-governmental employee who might not have security clearance, but that wasn’t something he could tell the President of the United States. So he swallowed hard and said, “First, I’d like Elizabeth to show you a video.”

She handed Treadwell her phone. As Treadwell watched General Zhou kill Androshka, his face registered shocked disbelief.

“We have to get him out of power,” Craig said.

“But how can we do that?” Treadwell asked.

“The Spanish government has an outstanding charge of murder against Zhou in connection with the battle for southern Spain last March.”

“Zhou won’t just walk into a Spanish courtroom.”

“I have a plan for getting him there.”

“Before you tell me about that, Craig, how do we know that
whoever succeeds Zhou in Beijing will be any better?”

Elizabeth explained about Mei Ling. “She’s waiting in the wings. So to speak. In Paris. If we get rid of Zhou, she could fly home and take over the presidency.”

“And she’d be better for us?”

“Both for the United States and China.”

Craig said, “I believe Russia is involved in this as well as Zhou. But I won’t be able to do anything about Kuznov.”

The president replied, “I can live with Kuznov. The Russians don’t pose a threat to us now. China is a much different matter. Okay, Craig, now tell me about your endgame.”

Before Craig had a chance to respond, the AG stuck his head in the door. “March is in custody. Being taken to a federal prison in Lewisburg where he’ll be held in solitary. He’s protesting furiously all the way.”

“That’s too damn bad,” Treadwell said. “Good work. You can go home now. What I’m discussing with Craig and Elizabeth doesn’t raise legal issues.”

The AG withdrew and closed the door. Treadwell was looking at Craig, “What’s your next move?”

“Elizabeth wants to fly to Prague to meet Orlov. At least, that’s what she told me a few hours ago.”

She was nodding.

Treadwell looked at her. “You don’t have to go.”

“I know that, Mr. President, but safeguarding PGS is critical for this country. Making Zhou pay for what he’s done is also important. I’ll do what I can to accomplish both of those.”

“You’re a brave young woman,” the president said with admiration.

“Not so young after spending the last year and a half running around with Craig.”

They all laughed nervously.

The president added, “I know Craig will do everything he can to protect you.”

“And then some,” Craig added.

“Now tell me your endgame,” Treadwell said.

Craig began speaking.