67

WASHINGTON NATIONAL AIRPORT

The unmarked government Learjet was wheels down at 7:52 a.m.

Three black armored Chevy Suburbans were waiting for them on the tarmac.

“Why all the firepower?” Annie asked as they deplaned and saw federal agents take up positions around them and the jet.

“I have no idea,” Jenny said over the roar of the engines.

The three were patted down for weapons or explosives by several of the agents, even though they had gone through security back in Corolla. The lead agent then asked the three to get into the middle SUV. The rest of the agents piled into the first and third vehicles, and they were off.

On the drive into the city, none of them spoke, cognizant that anything they said could later be used against them. Even on the plane, they had not spoken much. Rather, using an iPad Jenny had brought with her, they wrote messages to each other, then erased them immediately. Jenny conceded that she, too, was in the dark over why they were being summoned. In light of Abu Nakba’s apparent resurrection, the imminent danger to the three aid workers, and the stampede on the Hill for congressional investigations and even the appointment of an independent counsel, they all braced for impact.

At 8:16 a.m., the motorcade pulled onto the grounds of the Treasury Department. Once again, they were taken through metal detectors and their personal items scanned through an X-ray machine while a bomb-sniffing dog did its own due diligence. Jenny’s iPad was taken from her, as were their mobile phones and satellite phones. They were then given visitor badges and taken through the tunnel from Treasury into the basement of the East Wing.

At precisely 8:30 a.m., they were ushered into the Oval Office, where they were greeted by the acting president. Hernandez remained seated behind the Resolute desk. He did not smile nor offer to shake their hands. He asked them to take a seat on the far couch. Sitting across from them were McDermott and Martha Dell, an empty space between them. Sitting in the armchairs usually reserved for the president and vice president were Secretary Whitney and Attorney General Blackburn. Sitting in antique chairs against the far wall were the White House counsel and chief of staff. To Marcus’s surprise, and no doubt Annie’s, Senator Dayton was also in the room.

Several minutes later, CIA director Stephens arrived. Marcus noticed that he didn’t apologize but silently took his seat next to Dr. Dell.

“Okay, we’re all here,” Hernandez said. “First, let me say that we have only three and a half hours before the deadline is up. Given that Langley has been completely unable to locate the women, I see little choice but to transfer the money. Already, the insurance company working with the missionary organization that the women were sent by are prepared to send $30 million. I have authorized them to wire the funds to Kairos at ten o’clock. I’ve asked the treasury secretary to be prepared to wire the additional $120 million at eleven o’clock to make sure there is enough time for Kairos to receive the funds and factor in enough time for any complications or delays.”

“Excuse me, sir, may I?” Stephens suddenly asked.

“This isn’t a discussion, Richard,” Hernandez said. “I’ve noted your disapproval, but I’ve already made my decision.”

“No, it’s not that, sir,” Stephens replied. “What I want to know is why Marcus Ryker is in the White House at all, much less sitting in an NSC principals meeting in the Oval Office.”

Marcus stiffened but held his tongue.

“First of all, this is not a principals meeting,” Hernandez explained. “Second, I asked Agent Ryker to join us, along with Agent Morris and Miss Stewart. And third, since you’re so eager, let’s get right to the heart of the matter.”

“Sir, with all respect, it is completely inappropriate to have Ryker on White House grounds after you suspended him, pending a full investigation. I for one—”

But Hernandez cut him off. “Shut up, Richard.”

“I beg your pardon?”

“You can beg all you’d like but the decision has been made,” Hernandez shot back, leaning forward in his chair, his arms on the desk.

Marcus had no idea what was going on here, but the tension in the room was palpable. Stephens’s face reddened, and he was about to come off the couch. But Hernandez preempted him.

“Richard, I want your letter of resignation, effective immediately.”

“My what?”

“You heard me. In fact, I’ve taken the liberty of drafting a one-sentence letter. I want you to sign it while I watch.”

At this, the White House counsel stepped over to the Resolute desk, picked up a sheet of CIA letterhead stationery, and handed it to Stephens.

“What exactly is going on here?”

“Resign, Richard, right now, or I will have no choice but to fire you for cause,” Hernandez said.

“Fire me? On what grounds?”

“The attempted assassination of two American citizens.”

All color drained from Stephens’s face. He turned to Marcus, then to Jenny, then back to Hernandez and the bulky reel-to-reel tape deck Marcus now noticed sitting on the desk.

“Shall I play for you the most damning phone calls between you and the FSB, or should we save that for the grand jury?” the acting president asked, his voice remarkably calm and even, given the circumstances.

Marcus felt Annie stir beside him and knew exactly what she was thinking. The emails had not only been received, they’d been read and were now being acted upon.

Stephens sat silently for a long moment, then pulled a Montblanc pen from his breast pocket, signed the letter, stood up, and stormed out of the Oval Office.

Hernandez turned to the head of his detail and ordered him to have Stephens escorted from the building, his security clearances revoked, and his access to Langley and all other U.S. government offices barred.

Then he turned to Dell. “Martha, you’re the new acting director of Central Intelligence. Will you accept?”

Dell was in shock. “Unless you want me to resign, as well, sir. You deserve your people running the show, especially now.”

“I appreciate that, but I think we both know why I trust your judgment,” Hernandez replied. “I wouldn’t ask you to serve otherwise.”

Dell nodded her gratitude. “Then I accept, Mr. President.”

At that moment, Marcus finally realized who had entrusted those files to Annie.