He made his way to the elevator that led to the private residence.
Upstairs he found his wife lying on the couch reading a magazine.
“Hello, my love,” he said, bending down to kiss her forehead. “How was your day?”
“Better than yours,” she joked. It was their customary greeting each evening. “How’s everything downstairs? Any word on what happened last night?”
“Nothing yet,” he said. “But I have some really good people looking into it. How are you feeling?”
“As good as can be, I suppose. But I’m feeling better every day. That’s enough about me. So what are you going to do about this Prophet?”
“Honestly, I don’t know. I mean, what if this guy is really just a whack job trying to scare people? On the other hand, what if he’s not?”
“Do you believe that?”
“What?”
“That he’s a whack job, as you put it.”
“Everything in me says yes. But what if I’m wrong? Boz seems to think he may be for real.”
“Honey, you’re the president. If there was an impending threat against this nation, don’t you think you’d know about it?”
He laughed out loud. “You’d think! But with Marianne Levy running everything over there, it’s hard to tell what she knows and doesn’t.”
“Can’t you find out from the Pentagon or something?”
“It has been my mission, since I took this office to get this whole thing reversed. Eight years of a president that abdicated his responsibility as commander in chief has left us this mess. Right now, Marianne holds the keys to this nation’s security. The law was almost unanimously passed in both the Senate and the House, for goodness’ sake!”
He knew he was letting his temper get the best of him. And he didn’t want to upset her, knowing she wasn’t feeling well. He took a long deep breath and sighed.
“I’m sorry. You don’t need to hear all of this.”
“Your problems are my problems. I want to hear it.”
“The woman thinks she’s beyond the scope of this office. I have to repeatedly remind her that she still serves under me.”
“Have you talked about this Prophet with her?”
This was a tricky subject. By all rights, he still was the president and was able to control certain operations. He was well within his authority to task Jon Keene and Megan Taylor to investigate this. But technically, he was supposed to advise the director of Homeland Security on all matters domestic and seek her cooperation.
“No,” he answered. “I haven’t. But she knows. She made it a point this morning to come into my office and tell me as much.”
“You need to talk to her. You don’t need to make her any more of an enemy to you than she already is. Last thing you want is to be dragged in front of a congressional committee.”
He knew she was right. He just hated the thought of having her stick her nose in this, given what was at stake. He didn’t care if she was head of all the agencies. The reality of it was, both the CIA and FBI directors didn’t trust her either. They both made that adamantly clear to him. But rules were rules.
“You’re right. I’ll call her into my office tomorrow.”
“You know,” Tess said, “you could just go there. Might be a nice gesture.”
“Hmph.”
“Hmph, indeed,” she quipped back. “So what about this Prophet?”
He thought about that for a minute. On one hand, he wanted to get on television and tell the American people that they, he—all of them—needed to do what the man said: start working on fixing this nation. On the other hand, he knew that he would jeopardize his job if he did. And it wasn’t that he was afraid of losing his job. The job was only temporary anyway. But he also knew that the next guy may not share his convictions. And he really was set on changing this country. He looked at his wife with genuine uncertainty.
“I don’t know, Tess. I just don’t know.”
Just then the phone rang in the hallway. Grant walked over and lifted the handset.
“Yes?”
“Calvin, it’s Boz. There’s been an accident.”
CHAPTER 26
Boz and Special Agent Franks were sitting outside the warehouse, behind the building, making small talk as they waited for word from Keene and Taylor. Boz had just asked Franks to check in with them on the radio when it happened.
First there was a low growl. Then the ground rumbled slightly. Boz knew instantly what was happening. He jumped across the hood of the SUV and grabbed Franks by his coat. He pulled with all his strength and dragged the man down to the ground.
Glass flew everywhere as the blast blew out the upstairs windows. A huge fireball reached up and licked the sky as black smoke plumed out of the now gaping rooftop.
Boz, who was now lying on top of Franks, rolled onto his back, flat on the pavement.
“You okay?”
“Yeah? You?”
“I’m good. Other than a few scratches.”
Suddenly Franks jumped to his feet. “Keene! Taylor!”
He started to run into the building, but Boz grabbed him and pulled him up short.
“Don’t!” he said. “This whole place is going to come down in a few seconds. Try to reach them on the radio. I’ll go around front.”
“We have to go in there!” Franks argued.
“Listen to me,” Boz said. “I’ve seen that kind of charge before. That whole roof is coming down in the next few minutes. You go in there, you’re probably not coming out. Stay here and try to get them on the radio.”
Boz didn’t wait for the man to argue any further. The flames were getting higher, and he could already hear the sirens from the first responders.
He needed to get to the front and check on Keene and Taylor. He ran as fast as he could around to the front.
The front of the building looked much better. The blast seemed to have been contained in the rear of the building. Huge plumes of white smoke were the only thing happening up here. He pulled his shirt up over his face, leaving only his eyes exposed and kicked in the door.
He couldn’t see much. A thick layer of haze blanketed his view. Turning on his flashlight, he dropped low and crawled down the long hallway. He had only gone about a third of the way down before he saw them. Keene and Taylor were lying on the floor, Keene lying on top of Taylor.
Quickly, he checked over them and found no apparent injuries. They were just unconscious, it appeared. Boz pushed Keene off of Taylor and smacked his face. Hard.
“Jon! Jon! Wake up! Can you hear me?”
As if someone flipped a switch, Keene’s eyes popped open as he gasped.
“You okay?” Boz asked.
“Yeah, I’m good.”
“C’mon! Let’s go.”
Boz grabbed Taylor, held his breath, and stood up. He threw Taylor over his shoulder and headed back down the hallway. Keene was already in front of him.
As they exited the building, Franks was there waiting. He grabbed Keene as he stumbled out the door and helped him across the street, lying him down on the sidewalk. Boz arrived a second later with Taylor. He checked her pulse. It seamed to be good, but she was still unconscious. Just then an ambulance turned the corner, followed by two fire trucks. Boz waived down the paramedic as the firemen went to work on the building.
One paramedic checked Taylor’s vitals as the other placed an oxygen mask over her face. A few seconds later, her eyes fluttered open. Keene, Boz, and Franks all stood silently, waiting for the word.
“She’s going to be okay,” the paramedic said. “Just looks like she got some smoke inhalation.”
Boz breathed a sigh of relief. Last thing he wanted was to have to call Calvin and tell him he let one of these kids get killed.
“We’re going to have to take her to the hospital just to be sure,” the paramedic added. “What happened here?”
Boz looked to Agent Franks and nodded. Franks stepped forward.
“Special Agent Franks
with the FBI. Sorry, but you don’t need to know that. Just take care of the girl.”
“I’m okay,” Taylor coughed, trying to take off the mask.
Boz reached over and stopped her. “Just sit tight, Megan. Let them check you out.”
She tried to sit up but closed her eyes and grabbed her head.
“Ugh!” she grunted, lying back down. “Okay. Maybe I’ll lay here for a minute.”
Boz looked at Keene, “You need to let him give you the once-over, too.”
“I’m fine,” Keene said.
“Now.” It was an order, not a suggestion. It was the first time he had spoken with any kind of authority, and Keene seemed to be taken aback.
“You can jump in the back here with her,” the paramedic said. “And you two can follow.”
Franks looked at Boz, “Ah, I’m going to have to stay back here and explain all of this.”
“Yeah, about that,” Boz said reluctantly. “What are you going to tell the locals?”
“Just what I know. It’s classified, and it’s an FBI matter. For now, anyway. I’m probably going to have to give them more than that soon.”
“I’ll make some calls,” Boz said. “Don’t worry about it. Just keep them at bay for a little while.”
“Okay,” Franks said. “I can do that.”
Boz turned to the paramedic and said, “I’m going to ride back there with them.”
“You can ride up here with me. No room back there.”
Boz gave the man a hard stare.
“Or you can just ride back there with them,” the paramedic said, swallowing hard.
They helped Megan into the back of the ambulance, and then he and Keene jumped in with her and the other paramedic. The doors closed, and the ambulance took off. Boz took out his phone and punched some numbers in.
“Who are you calling,” Keene asked.
Boz held up a finger to hold him off as he waited for the call to connect.
“Calvin,” he said. “It’s Boz. There’s been an accident.”
CHAPTER 27
The doctor on call checked Keene and said he was okay. Just needed some rest. Taylor, however, had breathed in a good amount of smoke and was going to need to stay overnight. Keene and Boz decided to just stay there with her for the night. The doctor said they could make use of one of the doctor’s lounges: there were a couple cots, and they could just make themselves as comfortable as they could.
Special Agent Franks had stopped by and brought them their overnight bags from the plane. He offered to let them come back to the FBI station, or even put them up in a safe house for the night. But they declined, saying they wanted to stay close in case anything changed with Taylor.
Keene’s head was still pounding from the headache. He put his bag down next to one of the cots and pulled out a bottle of ibuprofen. He took two and swallowed them down. He still couldn’t believe he’d been dumb enough to let this happen.
“It’s not your fault,” Boz said out of nowhere.
Keene just looked at him.
“I mean it. It’s not your fault.”
“I never said it was.”
Boz laughed. “You didn’t have to.”
“Yeah, well …”
“Yeah, nothing,” Boz said. “Want to tell me what happened?”
“Nothing to tell. Guy had the place wired. He left this.”
Keene handed Boz the note the Prophet had left on the stool in the room. Boz read it and handed it back to him.
“So he told you to get out.”
“There was a camera in the far corner. Red light on it. He was watching.”
“Maybe,” Boz shrugged. “Maybe not.”
“Either way, he tried to kill us,” Keene said.
“No, he didn’t.”
Keene could feel his blood pressure rising, which made his head hurt even more.
“What do you mean, no, he didn’t? Did you not just come from the same place I did? Did you not see the building blow up?”
“Jon, you were a SEAL. How many demos have you done?”
“Enough to know that that could’ve killed me.”
“First of all,” Boz said, “you’re wrong. That was a shape charge directed upward. You know it, and I know it. The building was set to blow through the ceiling. Second, he told you he was going to do it. Why didn’t you just get out of there? You had enough time.”
“Are you kidding me? You’re defending this guy?”
“No, I’m not defending him at all. I’m merely stating a fact. I’ve done enough blast work to know that charge was never meant to hurt anyone. It was designed to bring the building down and burn everything in it. And that’s it. Even the blast radius was contained. None of the other buildings around were affected. Other than some glass on the street, there was no other damage.”
Keene knew he was right, but it didn’t matter. If he’d wanted to find this guy before, he was bent on doing it now.
“Doesn’t change anything. Megan’s upstairs in a bed with an oxygen mask over her face. Whether he meant for anyone to get hurt or not, she did. And when I find him, he’s going to wish I hadn’t.”
“What if you don’t find him?” Boz asked.
“I’ll find him,” Keene said.
“I’m not convinced finding him is going to change anything.”
“What’s that supposed to mean?”
“It means that this guy is a messenger. He doesn’t know anything.”
“You’re wrong.”
“Why? ‘Cause you want me to be?”
Keene didn’t say anything. Boz had served and was Special Ops, so he deserved respect. But that didn’t change the fact that his judgment was clouded. And Keene suspected why.
“No,” Keene said. “Not because I want you to be. I just think you are.”
“Because of my belief in God, then.”
“What is it with you people!” Keene snapped. “The man is a terrorist!” He slammed his fist against the wall.
The door to the room opened, and a nurse stuck her head in. “Everything okay in here?”
“We’re fine,” Keene said.
“It’s all right.” Boz spoke softly. “Thanks for checking on us.”
The young woman nodded and closed the door, leaving them alone again.
“What’s your problem with God?” Boz asked.
Keene just looked at him. Boz, it seemed, was bent on having this conversation. And he just didn’t have the energy to have it. He broke away from Boz’s stare.
“You know what?” he said. “My head is pounding. I’m going to sleep. We’ll get started trying to find this guy in the morning.”
CHAPTER 28
Four Days Later
Traffic was already bad and the sun hadn’t even risen yet. And it was starting to rain, which made the drive into downtown Washington that much more unappealing. It usually increased drive time by more than twenty minutes. And since she had drunk an entire bottle of wine by herself last night, Marianne Levy was not feeling too great. So she fought her way through the gauntlet of cars, forty minutes past her usual time.
Finally she pulled into the complex and showed the guard her ID. Upstairs her secretary greeted her with a cup of coffee and an itinerary for the day. She was about to move past her when her secretary stopped her.
“Someone here to see you, Ms. Levy,” she said.
“I don’t recall having a meeting this morning.”
“Unannounced, ma’am.”
She was about to ask who when she noticed the two Secret Service agents sitting in the waiting area. Then the door to her office swung open.
“That’ll be all,” she said, moving past to greet her visitor. “Mr. President, to what do I owe the pleasure?” she said.
President Grant moved aside to let her in. “I’d like to talk to you about something.”
“Please, have a seat,” she said, gesturing to one of the chairs at a small coffee table.
Before she took her own seat, sh
e leaned outside the door and got her secretary’s attention.
“Would you mind bringing in some coffee and muffins, please?” Then to President Grant, “Anything specific you’d like, sir?”
“Coffee is fine. Black, please.”
“And get something for the agents.” She closed the door and took a seat. It was customary when meeting with the president to allow him the first word. But she wasn’t big on tradition. “I have a busy schedule today. What can I help you with?”
She watched as President Grant smoothed his pants leg and fidgeted with his tie. Whatever he wanted to talk about with her was obviously something that he wasn’t looking forward to. That made her happy.
“Ms. Levy,” the president began, “you and I don’t necessarily see eye to eye on everything. We’ve had our differences….”
What is this? An apology? Surely not, she thought. He wanted something, and he’d decided to play nice in order to get it, she was sure.
“And we don’t necessarily agree with each other,” he continued. “That being said, we do have to work together.”
Not for much longer. “Yes, it seems so.”
“A few nights ago, I received a somewhat disturbing message.”
It was as if time stood still. He hadn’t even finished speaking when a feeling of sheer panic filled her.
“Disturbing? How?” she asked cautiously.
“Well, it came through my private e-mail.”
She couldn’t breathe. All of a sudden, she felt trapped. There were probably agents outside waiting to take her away this very moment. No. It couldn’t be. There was no way. She forced back the panic and remained calm.
The 13: Fall Page 10
