59

GREAT FALLS, VIRGINIA

Allison McDermott noticed two Chevy Suburbans pull up out front.

“Bill?” she called out.

Her husband didn’t respond.

Walking quickly to his study, she found him asleep on the couch, classified papers strewn about him and Fox News playing on the TV. He had been at the White House and the Naval Observatory most of the night, then had to appear on the Saturday morning news shows to discuss the hostage crisis and the administration’s response. He’d come home less than an hour ago to shower and change and told her he was heading straight back to the Situation Room.

Allison was surprised to see him asleep. The clock was running, and those girls’ lives hung in the balance.

“Bill, hey, wake up, honey—are you expecting guests?”

McDermott suddenly sat up and rubbed his eyes. “No, why?”

“Because the doorbell is about to ring.”

The doorbell rang.

McDermott gathered up his papers and put them in his briefcase. Then he slipped his shoes on and went to the door.

To his astonishment, Cal Foster and his security detail were standing on the front porch.

“Now what?” McDermott asked, his stomach tightening.

“Got a minute?”

“Of course, come in. You know Allie.”

“Sure, hi, good to see you again, Mrs. McDermott,” Foster replied, smiling but clearly pressed for time.

“And you, sir—welcome.”

Foster asked if there was someplace where he and the national security advisor could speak in private.

“Let’s go in my study,” McDermott replied. “Honey, would you bring us something to drink?”

The two men settled in the study and closed the door as one bodyguard took up a position in the hallway and several others guarded the front, back, and side doors of the house.

“Tell me you found the girls,” McDermott said.

“I wish, but no.”

“Then what’s going on, Cal? You’ve never dropped by my house, much less on a weekend.”

“The SEAL team just landed at Andrews.”

“From Libya.”

“Right.”

“Wow—that was fast.”

“We’ve got a problem, Bill.”

“Why? What?”

“No children. No teachers. No wheelchairs. No playground equipment.”

“What are you talking about?”

“My guys found none of it—nada.”

“I don’t understand,” McDermott said. “Someone scrubbed the site?”

“No. Nobody scrubbed the site. There was plenty of evidence there. The compound wasn’t a school.”

“Come again?”

“You heard me—it was never a school, Bill. We’ve been played.”

“So what did the SEAL team find?”

“Dead terrorists. Weapons. Laptops. Satphones. The whole nine yards.”

“You mean . . . ?”

Foster nodded. “Yeah. Ryker wasn’t wrong.”

McDermott sat back in his chair, trying to take that in.

“And SEAL is absolutely certain? There’s no chance that—”

But Foster cut him off. “They brought back an hour’s worth of video—I just watched it all. Plus hundreds of digital photos. Mangled, half-melted computers. Body parts from at least twenty different Kairos operatives. They brought everything they could load on the choppers. And they’ve all signed sworn affidavits—classified, of course—that the compound was, without question, a Kairos safe house. Whether it was the main HQ or not, that’ll take time to figure out. We’ve got to get into those computers and crack those phones. Given the condition they’re in, it’s not going to be easy. But the site was most definitely not a school for special-needs children. And I swear to you, there’s going to be hell to pay for those who said it was.”

“Who else knows about this?”

“You and me. A few of my senior staff. And the maintenance crew and security team that operate Hangar Nine at Andrews.”

“That’s where everything is now?” McDermott asked.

“Yeah.”

“Does Stephens know?”

“Are you kidding?”

“He’s going to hear about it soon enough.”

“Not from me,” the SecDef insisted.

“None of your guys will leak this to the press?” McDermott asked.

“Not on your life.”

“Why didn’t you just call me?”

“I didn’t want to take the risk that the NSA might intercept the call. This changes everything, and we need to manage it and release it in our way and on our terms.”

“We need to take this straight to the president and let him make the call,” McDermott said.

Just then there was a knock. The door opened and Allison brought in a tray of drinks along with some snacks.

“I’m so sorry, honey. We’ve got to go.”