by Ken Fite
“Need your help, Jordan.”
I said nothing.
“Need you to talk some damn sense into the president for me.”
“Is that why you were meeting with him?”
He nodded. “You need to talk to him. You see this?” he asked, pointing at the people outside the room. “This is what happens when you force a shutdown. People aren’t safe.” He stared at me and wiped his brow with the sleeve of his dress shirt. “You don’t want to know how bad it is at the Bureau,” he added. “They’re issuing a report to the press tomorrow, outlining all the things the FBI can’t do without funding and the real consequences of a government shutdown. Hell of a thing to read when you’ve got some time.”
I narrowed my eyes. “I thought you’d be the kind of guy to support the funding request.”
“Not like this,” he said. “The Bureau’s got agents working without pay. Informants they’re unable to keep paying. They’ve got big leads drying up. National security is at risk because of what Keller is doing.” Parker took a breath; then he rubbed his face and looked off to the side. “Dangerous game he’s playing.”
I glanced over to Matthew. He had sunk down low in his chair, like he’d given up searching for his mom. He just stared blankly out of the room.
“So you’re under pressure to pick up the slack,” I said. “You and your new team at DHS. Is that the problem? You guys can’t handle the workload?”
Parker made no reply. Just stared at me.
“Who do you have working for you over there? Who’s on your team?”
He said nothing.
“The president knows what he’s doing. And he’s relying on people like you to support him through this.”
“I support the president, but this is different,” he said. “Look at the irony, Jordan. Forcing a shutdown. For what? To ask for more money to set aside for national security? He’s shot himself in the damn foot.”
I said nothing. Just listened to the voices outside the room echoing loudly throughout the large open area.
Parker sighed heavily. “I could use your help finding the people responsible,” he said in a low voice.
I glanced at him. Thought about it briefly, then shook my head. He’d asked me to join his team three months ago, and I’d said no. The only thing I wanted was to be in Matthew’s life. He was my priority now.
“My answer hasn’t changed,” I said, wishing I felt differently.
Parker rubbed a hand across his face again and looked away. “Well, that’s a damn shame.”
Neither of us spoke for several minutes. I moved to the doorway again and just kept staring out at the people as Parker went back to pacing again and trying to figure out what he was going to do about the attack. Matthew got tired of sitting. He got up. Came over to me and stood close and stared out with me.
There was silence in the room. Parker went over to the landline. I heard him make a call and ask for a guy named Willis. I knew the man. I’d worked with him before. Curt Willis, special agent in charge of the Bureau’s New York field office. Not a bad choice to lead a black ops team, I figured. He’d get the job done.
As Parker was talking, Matthew tugged at my arm and pointed urgently. I followed his line of sight and saw Jami and Kate emerging from the tunnel and walking into the open area of the lobby, looking for us.
ELEVEN
MATTHEW PULLED AWAY from me. I started to hold him back, then decided to let him go. I watched as he maneuvered around groups of people huddled together, talking. He found his mom and hugged her tight. Jami saw me standing at the door and ushered Kate and Matthew over to where I was waiting for them.
I stepped out of the room and gave Jami a hug and told her about the drones and asked if she was okay. She nodded that she was, but looked concerned. Matthew pulled his mom to the conference room, and they both stepped inside. Jami and I remained outside the room and watched as Parker nodded at Kate while he kept the phone pressed against his ear. He looked distracted and worried. I started to walk back into the room when Jami grabbed hold of my arm and held onto me to stay back with her.
“What’s wrong?” I asked.
She thought for a second. “I don’t know,” she said. Hesitation in her voice. “It’s just, the president…”
I narrowed my eyes. “What about him?”
She shook her head slightly. “I don’t know,” she said again. “It’s probably nothing. I just never saw him.” Jami shuddered as she drew her jacket tight around her body and crossed her arms and stared at me.
“You think something happened to him?”
She made no reply. Just offered a small shrug, then looked past me into the conference room. I followed her gaze. Saw Matthew and Kate over my shoulder, holding each other tightly. Parker had his back to us. He was still on the landline talking urgently to someone. Maybe Willis. Maybe someone else at Homeland.
I turned back to Jami. “We just saw him,” I said. “Less than an hour ago. I’m sure he’s fine.”
Her eyes shifted back to me. She made a face and looked away.
“Come on,” I said, but she wouldn’t move. “He’s fine, Jami. If he wasn’t, we would know. The Secret Service wouldn’t just be standing around. They’d be back through the tunnel, inside the White House.”
She gave a little shrug, then tucked a lock of brown hair behind an ear, and we stepped toward the room. Parker was off the phone. Kate and Matthew were in two of the chairs at the conference table. I saw Parker say something to Kate; then he nodded after she said something back to him. As we approached, I saw people in the crowd make room as someone stepped through. It was Rivera. He didn’t notice me. Just walked right past us and went straight to the conference room ahead of Jami and me and stepped inside.
Rivera motioned for Parker to leave the room and go with him. Parker nodded and said something to Matthew and Kate and emerged from the room as Jami and I stayed outside in the open area, watching.
“Parker,” I said as he exited and walked by us, “do you know where the president is?”
“Marine One by now,” he said and looked at Rivera as if he wanted a confirmation from the man.
But Rivera said nothing.
I furrowed my brow, confused. “How?”
Parker shrugged. “Think there’s another tunnel somewhere that takes him straight to it. Is that right?”
Agent Rivera made no reply to that, either. I didn’t expect him to. He just told Parker he needed to go with him for some kind of meeting. Said something about getting a call from Peter Mulvaney at the Bureau, who insisted on a phone call with the Secret Service and Parker. Rivera said he wanted to get it over with.
Parker nodded his agreement and glanced at me briefly. “Could’ve used your help with this,” he said before walking off with Rivera through the crowd. I watched with Jami as Rivera pushed a door open and Parker stepped into a dark hallway. Then they disappeared from view and the door closed behind them.
Jami and I stood alone outside the conference room as Kate kept her arms wrapped around Matthew and closed her eyes. The loud voices and echoes inside the open area continued. My heart was still beating hard in my chest. I looked at the White House staffers all huddled together, talking with each other, looking confused and scared. I started for the room, when Jami grabbed my arm and held me back again.
“Go,” she said.
I stared at her. Said nothing.
“Maybe you can help him in some way.”
“No,” I said. “We need to stay together. Matthew’s scared. I don’t want to leave him here like this.”
Jami shook her head and stared straight at me. “Go ,” she said again.
I hesitated. Looked away for a moment. “What about you?”
“I’ll be fine,” she said. “As soon as I know where they’re taking us, I’ll call and let you know.”
I turned and looked at Kate and Matthew through the open doorway. “What about them?”
“Stop worrying about us and go cat
ch up with Parker while you still can. Make sure Keller is safe, okay?”
I thought about it for a second. My heart started beating faster. “Okay,” I said and thought some more. “Ask them to take you to Blair House,” I added, thinking about the president’s guesthouse across the street. I’d stayed there a few times while visiting Keller, and figured it would probably be empty. And safe.
She nodded vaguely. I felt someone tug at my jacket. Turned and saw Matthew next to me, looking scared. He reached for my hand and motioned for me to go back into the room. “Come on, Uncle Blake.”
I hesitated again. “Listen, buddy, I need to go help Mr. Parker with something,” I said. “I’ll be back soon.”
“Back when?”
I shrugged. “Couple of hours, maybe.”
Matthew’s expression changed. I knew he struggled with fear. Leaving would make things worse for him.
“Hey,” I said and knelt down slightly to get eye level with the boy. “You’ll be fine. Don’t worry about anything, okay?”
He nodded.
“Stay with your mom and aunt for me.”
I stood up tall. Jami reached for Matthew and pulled him in. “Stay safe and be careful,” I said.
She nodded that she would. I turned and moved through the crowd. Got to an empty spot and picked up the pace as I jogged toward the closed door I’d seen Parker and Rivera walk through. I grabbed the handle and held onto it. Looked back and saw Jami step into the room and Matthew at the door. He waved at me. I waved back. Then I pulled the door open and stepped into the hallway and hurried to catch up to Parker.
TWELVE
SIMON HARRIS STARED at his screen. He’d been sifting through the contents of the database download but wasn’t getting anywhere. Nine businesses within a twenty-mile radius had ordered the same make and model drone from the manufacturer. When Simon expanded the search parameters to fifty miles, he got over thirty results. He guessed whoever was piloting the drones would’ve been smart enough to buy them far enough away from the DC metro that they’d never be tracked. Maybe the drones were purchased somewhere out of state and driven in. Maybe the pilot was in a nearby hotel somewhere. Maybe—
He felt the presence of someone behind him. Spun around and saw Curt Willis stepping up close to him. Simon turned back to his screen and kept working. “What did they say?” he asked as he started typing.
Willis sighed heavily from behind. “I spoke with Lynne May,” he said. “She agreed that the satellites wouldn’t work for what we’re trying to do. Too dark out. She told me they don’t have one with infrared.”
He stopped working. Turned to face Willis and looked up at the man standing behind him. “Did you lead her to that conclusion?” he asked and watched as Willis made a face and shook his head slightly. “Curt, I’m fairly certain I’ve seen Morgan Lennox manipulate the satellites somehow to get infrared from them. In fact, I think there’s a specific satellite DDC uses with that technology. I can make a quick call to him.”
Willis shook his head again. “Stay on task, Simon. Forget the satellites. Focus on trying to figure out where the drones were purchased so we can find the buyer. That’s how we’re going to find these people. Got it?”
Simon nodded that he did. Kept his gaze upward and watched Willis nod back at him and look away.
“I’m heading out to meet Parker,” said Willis.
“Where are you going?”
“Treasury Building. Parker said it’s pure chaos down there. I’m trying to set up a meeting with him and the Secret Service and Peter Mulvaney. Just got off the phone with Mulvaney. Think he’s going to bat for us, finally.” Willis zipped up his jacket and checked his phone. “Call me when you find something, okay?”
Simon watched him turn and walk toward the end of the open space. “If I find something,” he replied. Willis said nothing. Just kept walking. Simon watched as he left his desk and headed for the elevator. Once he was gone, Simon stood. His cubicle was in the middle of the floor. A forgotten building of the massive DHS complex that Parker promised would one day be fully staffed with more analysts like him. But so far he, Willis, and Parker were the only ones in Homeland’s new unit, which didn’t even have a name yet. Parker had recruited him from Lynne May at DDC based on her recommendation. Simon was excited to be part of a new unit, but started to regret the decision after Parker hired Willis from the FBI.
Simon stepped away from his desk. The lighting was dark in the office. Many of the light bulbs overhead hadn’t been replaced after they had gone out, which was fine by him. He preferred to work in the dark. But he didn’t like being in that part of the empty building alone at night. A chill ran down his spine. Simon heard nothing but the buzz of computer equipment in the silence. Then he heard a muffled sound, like a car door being closed. Willis . He moved to the window. Saw brake lights glowing red. Willis sat inside his SUV for a moment. Then he backed out of the spot, put the vehicle in drive, and eased out headed for the gate. He drove past the armory building next door, beyond Simon’s direct line of sight, and disappeared.
Simon watched for another moment, then left the window and went to the small kitchen area nearby. Inserted three quarters into the vending machine and grabbed the Mountain Dew that dropped out of it. Walked back to his cubicle and popped the tab. Took a long drink to help him focus better and set it down.
He glanced at the computer screen and the database results he’d been staring at for the last few minutes. Took another sip of his drink and sighed as he went back to work. Simon sorted the results a few different ways. First he looked at distance, then by the number of units ordered, then he looked at order frequency. Nothing jumped out at him. Simon stared at the data. His gut was telling him he was on the wrong path.
Pushing his chair away from his desk, he stood again. Glanced around his cubicle and saw a stack of notebooks and thought about what Willis had said about the conversation he’d had with Lynne May.
“I think she’s wrong,” he whispered to himself as he remembered the training he received a few months back.
He stared at the black and white composition books stacked flat on a bookshelf inside his cubicle. Took one out at a time and flipped through each of them in turn until he found the one he was looking for. Pushed the rest of the stack aside and dropped back into his seat and thumbed through his notes. His handwriting was almost unreadable. He’d written his notes quickly, trying to keep up with his trainer, Morgan Lennox, during new-hire onboarding after joining the Department of Domestic Counterterrorism.
Finally, he located the notes he’d taken on interagency satellite usage standard practices and procedures. He’d been given his own log-in credentials, which were specific to him. Since he didn’t work for DDC anymore, Simon figured his old credentials probably wouldn’t work. He remembered Morgan telling him when he left that Parker would need to set him up through DHS once he got his new unit up and running.
Simon set the notebook down next to his keyboard. Used two more composition books from the stack to help keep the pages spread open so he could read the instructions he’d jotted down while he worked. Simon remembered Morgan Lennox going through the whole sequence for initializing use of a satellite. How he really needed the okay by DDC or the Bureau first before trying to acquire any of them. How you could still access and control one of the satellites without prior approval, depending on your clearance, but you’d have a lot of explaining to do once you were done. He thought about Parker and how he’d explain everything once he got back. He’d say Willis wasn’t being open-minded about the whole thing. He’d ask for forgiveness, if it got that far. But Simon planned to have something by the time they returned.
So he took a breath and dug in. Used the notes he’d written. Compared the notes to what he was seeing on his screen as he went step-by-step through the entire process of acquiring a satellite that he’d documented. Pulled up the interagency user interface and logged in with his credentials and held his breath as he typed in his password a
nd hit the enter key. A small hourglass appeared in the center of the screen as he waited.
The delay concerned him. Simon kept his eyes glued to the screen as he reached for his Mountain Dew and took a drink. A successful log-in message displayed briefly, and the screen changed to a dashboard.
“Thank you,” he whispered to himself as he glanced back down at his notes and rearranged the stack of composition books keeping the pages open so he could turn the page. He licked his thumb and flipped to the next page and scanned it briefly. Nodded to himself and glanced back and leaned in close to the screen. Used his mouse to scroll through the list of available satellites until he found the right one. He selected it. Another hourglass appeared. Simon was prompted to enter his credentials again, which he did. Then a second prompt displayed. It asked for a supervisor’s credentials to be entered for further approval.
Simon furrowed his brow. He stared at the message for a second, then leaned back in his chair. Not only was he not going to be able to make any progress on the satellite, now his attempt had likely been flagged. A minute passed as he thought through how he was going to explain this. Then the phone at his desk rang. The sound pierced the silence and startled him. He sat up straight and slowly reached for the receiver.
“Simon Harris,” he said cautiously.
There was a sigh on the other end of the line. “Simon, this is Morgan Lennox,” the man said with an Australian accent, which Simon recognized immediately. “Care to tell me what you’re trying to do, mate?”
THIRTEEN
ROBERT HAYES SAT with his wrists tied behind a chair inside a large room. A room he was familiar with and had seen a few days earlier. Empty on a Friday night. All the employees at the client site his company had been working with had left hours ago and wouldn’t be back until Monday morning. Four large screens were affixed to the wall directly in front of them. Two stacked on top of each other. The large display was to be used for simulations and training Air Force recruits hoping to pilot drones for the government.
