132

 

STANFORD SECURE OPS ROOM, 1:22 P.M.

Two minutes later, Dan called Chief Canning, told him what he knew.

“I have a man outside your home,” Canning responded. “I’ll get him to you soonest. Frank Del Russo.”

“Fine. Do me a favor, call Jon Hendrix, here’s the number,” Dan reeled it off. “He’s the cohead of Hazards here. He is having some trouble believing the story of the ionizers and the drones. We need him to declare an emergency and he won’t because the science wasn’t invented here and all that bullshit.”

“Let me call Del Russo, then I’ll call Hendrix.” There was a smile in Canning’s voice. He enjoyed a battle, especially one he would win.

*   *   *

Dan turned to Riley. “Come with me. Say nothing. Just watch.”

In two minutes, good to his word, Canning put in the call.

Art answered, called out to his boss.

“Hey, Dr. Hendrix, I’ve got someone called Andrew Canning here. He’s er, he’s the Chief of the Counterterrorism Center.”

Hendrix jumped to his feet, looked at Art as if the man had lobbed him a grenade. Dan could read the man’s mind: First SOCOM, now this.

“Put him through,” Hendrix said stiffly.

Stifling smiles, Dan and Riley watched as Hendrix listened. They saw him stiffen, then slump.

“Yes, sir. I agree. A credible threat. Yes, I see. New information changes everything. Thank you. I will do that immediately.”

He hung up, got up, turned to Riley and Dan. He blew out a breath. “OK, Riley. You win.”