Capitol Betrayal

by William Bernhardt

  The president’s head tilted slightly. “Didn’t Zuko help out with your first campaign?”

  “What, you mean back when I ran for mayor in Laramie?” Ben spotted distinct patches of red popping out on Ruiz’s cheeks. “Yes, he made a little contribution. I’d forgotten all about it. But it was his idea. I never talked to him.”

  Even Cartwright didn’t bother to respond to that. No one could make Ruiz look more incriminated than the job he was doing on himself.

  “I don’t understand why these accusations are coming my way,” Ruiz said defensively. “I’m a statesman, not a military man-unlike you, Admiral Cartwright. I daresay you know more about our missile defense system than anyone in this room.”

  “What are you getting at, Ruiz?” Cartwright replied.

  “I’m just pointing out that Colonel Zuko is not a computer genius. Someone had to give him some assistance.”

  “Are you accusing me of treason, man?” The admiral’s eyes looked as if they might pop out of his skull. “If that’s what it is, stand up and do it to my face!”

  Ruiz looked away. “I’m just saying…”

  “You were in charge of the Middlemarch study, weren’t you, Will?” The president spoke soberly, but his voice seemed weak, almost feeble.

  “Yes,” Cartwright replied. “And I guess this proves the importance of that effort!”

  “Middlemarch?” Sarie looked just as puzzled as Ben was. “I haven’t heard of that. What is it?”

  “That’s the code name for a top-secret study to assess the vulnerability of our national defense computer system. Basically, we were trying to determine if we could be infiltrated… well, in exactly the manner Zuko is doing right now.”

  “Really?” Rybicki said. “What was the conclusion of the study?”

  Cartwright pursed his lips. “That we had a lot of work to do to make this country secure.”

  “And was that work done?”

  “Some of it. We haven’t had time-” He stopped short. “Well, we haven’t!”

  Ben was wishing now he had never spoken. He’d thought it was obvious to everyone already that Zuko had inside information. But it seemed all he had done was magnify the already massive sense of paranoia in the room. In any case, he thought the bunker needed an immediate change of subject before this turned into a bloodbath.

  He noticed that Zimmer had stopped talking for a moment, and so he seized the opportunity. “Agent Zimmer, I know you’re busy, but given the exigent circumstances… is it possible I could make a brief phone call to my wife?”

  Zimmer shrugged. “The problem is, if I let you make a call, I need to do the same for everyone.”

  Ben frowned. Since there were eight people down here, plus the Secret Service agents, and only about ten minutes left on the clock, that was clearly a deal breaker.

  “I don’t need to call home,” Cartwright said, to Ben’s surprise. Was he being generous, or did he just consider anyone who wanted to call his wife during a crisis a pantywaist? “My Brenda has been a military wife for thirty-nine years now. She knows the drill.”

  They took a quick poll of the room, and as it turned out, Ben, Rybicki, and Sarie were the only ones who wanted to make a call, so Zimmer allowed it, though he limited each call to one minute.

  Sarie went first. She looked terrible. Ben wondered whom she had called. She wasn’t currently married, and he didn’t think she was close to any family members. Her work was her life. But there was someone she wanted to talk to before it was too late. She trembled as she spoke, which was more than unfortunate. When you had to get a call completed in one minute, it’s a poor time to develop a stutter.

  Secretary Rybicki made a brief call, then it was Ben’s turn. “Remember,” Zimmer said, “you can make no reference to the missile crisis, Colonel Zuko, or anything else that is not currently public knowledge.”

  “Understood. One minute.”

  Zimmer smiled slightly. “Well, for you, Ben… perhaps I can make it two.”

  Zimmer turned his back and took a few steps away, presumably to give Ben a tiny quantum of privacy. Ben quickly dialed Christina’s cell phone.

  “How’s my favorite wife?”

  “Ben! Oh, my gosh. Is it really you? I’ve been so worried! The news said that the White House might be in danger, then they said there was a gas explosion, but people on the Internet are saying a missile exploded, and I didn’t know where you were or-What happened? Where are you? I went to-”

  “Christina, I’m sorry to interrupt, but I only have two minutes.”

  “What?”

  “I just wanted you to know that I’m safe. I’m still at the White House-sort of-and I’m with the president and we’re all safe. I may not be able to come home for some while, though, so I wanted to assure you that-”

  “Oh, my gosh, Ben. They’ve closed all the monuments on the Mall. Something big is going on out there.”

  “Yes, I know-”

  “What is it?”

  “I can’t talk about it.”

  “Spoilsport.”

  “But I’m safe, honey. And when I get home, I’ll have big news. You’ll never top this.”

  “I’ll bet I can.”

  Ben felt an irritable gnawing in his stomach. “No, not this time, sweetie. There’s just no-”

  “Your mother is going to redecorate the spare room.”

  “And you’re telling me this now? When the whole country-”

  “Didn’t you say I could decorate the room?”

  “Well, yes, but-”

  “Good. She has excellent taste. And isn’t family more important than politics?”

  “I suppose,” he said. She didn’t need to know how serious this crisis really was.

  Out the corner of his eye, Ben saw Zimmer holding up all his fingers. Ten seconds.

  “Honey, I have to go now. I just wanted to tell you not to worry. I’m safe. And I love you very much.”

  “I love you, too, you goofus. Get your sexy butt home soon.”

  Ben flushed and hung up the phone.

  When he returned to the conference table, everyone else was engaged in a heated debate.

  “We can’t give in to terrorists!” the president insisted.

  “We should’ve pulled out of the Middle East a long time ago,” Ruiz said. “Found our energy somewhere else. Let the damn camel jockeys obliterate one another.”

  “Look,” Vice President Swinburne said, “I don’t know where you were in your deliberations before I made the scene, so I’ll just jump in-if you don’t mind, Mr. President. I know I’m not technically a member of the cabinet.”

  “I always value your opinion, Connie.”

  The expressions Ben read on both faces suggested that neither of them believed a word of that statement.

  “Then let me be blunt. I think we have to tell our forces to retreat. Get us the hell out of there. Before this countdown runs out.”

  The president slowly lowered himself into his own chair. “Are you seriously suggesting that we give in to this terrorist?”

  “But he isn’t a terrorist, Roland. He’s the internationally recognized leader of a sovereign nation.”

  “He seized power in a bloody coup.”

  “That’s ancient history. He is the leader of Kuraq and he has a legitimate beef.” Swinburne spread his hands wide. “Look, I don’t want to see all those people in Benzai slaughtered, either. But if it’s a choice between losing them or losing some of our own people-well, I hope I don’t have to explain what side I come down on.”

  “We’re the most respected nation in the world, Connie. We can’t always act in our own interests. We’re citizens of the world.”

  Ben could see that Swinburne was becoming agitated. “Then let me put it to you even more bluntly, Roland. Do you have any desire to be reelected?”

  “I hardly think this is the time-”

  “A poor decision here could tank this administration.”

  “That’s my decision to m
ake.”

  “And you won’t just be dragging yourself down. I’d like a shot at your job when you’re finished. And that isn’t going to happen if the people learn that you traded American lives for those of some non-Christian foreigners most people haven’t even heard of before!”

  “This is a time for cool-headed foreign policy statesmanship, not political maneuvering!” the president shouted.

  “This is a time for pragmatism, not boneheaded idealism!” Swinburne shouted back. “And if you won’t do what needs to be done, I will.”

  “Over my dead body!”

  The vice president looked at him levelly. “I can think of an easier means to get you out of the way than that.”

  13

  9:55 A.M.

  Seamus called 911, then snapped his cell phone shut. “Come on, kid.”

  “Do I have to?”

  “You’re not safe here. And I’m not done with you.”

  Seamus moved toward the car, but Arlo hesitated.

  “What are you waiting for? A papal bull?”

  “I just-I-” Arlo shook his shaggy head. “You were seriously harsh with that guy.”

  “He’s a terrorist who tried to kill you, kid. Remember?”

  “You tortured him!”

  “I wouldn’t put it that way. I… persuaded him.”

  “You tortured him.”

  “Look, he was fading fast, and if I was going to get anything out of him, it was going to have to happen fast. He’s working with people who have pointed our own weapons at us and are threatening to launch them at any minute. I don’t have time to say pretty please.”

  “Yeah, I get that, man. I just-I don’t know why you had to go all Gitmo on him.”

  “Have you forgotten that this guy came here to kill you?”

  “No. But if we start using the same tactics as the bad guys, doesn’t that make us just like the bad guys?”

  Seamus swung the car door open. “I don’t have time for a philosophical debate. Get in!”

  Arlo did as he was told. Seamus turned the car around and started back toward downtown. The National Mall. And all the monuments on and near it.

  He punched in a highly classified number on his cell phone. A few seconds later, someone picked up.

  “Seamus?”

  “Zira, listen. I got-”

  “Seamus, where the hell are you? I didn’t give you the go-ahead to-”

  “Zira, for once would you shut the hell up?” That explosion would probably cost him some vacation time. Possibly his job. But she needed to hear what he had to say, as quickly as possible. “Just listen to me, Zira. I’m cutting to the chase. I tracked down the computer expert who may have inadvertently helped Zuko’s people infiltrate our computers. Some terrorist thugs showed up to silence him. I managed to interrogate one of them.”

  “Why didn’t you bring him in?”

  “There wasn’t time.”

  “Seamus, I certainly hope you didn’t do anything inappropriate. Maybe you can get away with those strong-arm tactics out in the desert, but you’re in the civilized world now and-”

  “Zira, close your trap and listen!” Oh, man, was he going to pay for this. “Zira, they’re targeting the Jefferson Memorial.”

  For once she was actually quiet. For a second. “Are you certain about this?”

  “I don’t think my informant had any incentive to lie. He was… in an awkward situation.”

  “Tell me what happened. I need to evaluate the intel.”

  “No, Zira. You need to evacuate the memorial.”

  “Actually, the president just gave an order to close all the Washington attractions, so it’s already in progress.”

  “That’s not good enough. You need to evacuate the whole Mall. Get the people out of there! There can’t be anyone within a mile radius of the memorial.”

  “Do you think the suitcase is involved?”

  “I don’t know. I’m headed that way now.”

  He heard her barking orders to someone else. When she came back on she said, “I’ve started the evac. The contingency plans have been in place ever since the first Oklahoma City bombing. They’ll move quickly.”

  “How quickly?”

  “The E-one-oh-one blueprint says the entire Mall should be clear in seven minutes.”

  “Does that assume all the tourists cooperate? No one stops to take pictures?”

  “I think it’s five minutes if they all cooperate. What are you going to do?”

  “I could head to the memorial.”

  “Why? So they can evacuate you, too? You’re good, Seamus, but I don’t think you can stop a ballistic missile.”

  “You’ve got a point. My informant thinks there must be some sort of operations base in the area. Some Computers R Us outfit that sends instructions to the satellite or whatever it is up there.”

  “Does he know where it is?”

  “No.”

  “Find it, Seamus.”

  He couldn’t resist. “Well, okay, if you’re sure. If you’d rather, I could come into the office so you can debrief me.”

  “Just find the goddamn base, Seamus.”

  “All right. Since you asked nicely.”

  “Call back when you can.”

  “I will. Bye.”

  He snapped his phone shut.

  “Do you always talk to your boss like that?” Arlo asked. “‘Cause I worked at Taco Bell once, and my supervisor didn’t even understand what sarcasm was. Which is probably why I only lasted three weeks.”

  Seamus blew air through his nose. “Listen, kid, I’m not used to having someone hovering over my shoulder. When I was in the Middle East, I went weeks without any contact with anyone. Including superiors. And none of my superiors was-” He used better judgment and buried the end of the sentence.

  “You were in the Middle East?”

  “For the better part of ten years.”

  “In the Iraq war?”

  “Not exactly. In… um, contingency operations.”

  “You were a spy!”

  “I can neither confirm nor deny.”

  “You were!” Arlo pounded the dash of the car. “You so were. That must be where you learned all those moves.”

  “I guess you could say that.”

  “Did you go after bin Laden?”

  “Yeah. Damn near caught him, too.”

  “Sweet!” Arlo bounced up and down like a kid meeting his favorite superstar. “You’re, like, one of America ’s heroes.”

  “If so, it’s a well-kept secret.”

  “Have you ever been shot?”

  “More times than I can count.”

  “Have you ever had to kill anyone?”

  Seamus closed his eyes briefly and sighed. “More times that I care to remember.”

  “That is so razor. You know, I’ve done some counterintelligence work myself.”

  Seamus arched an eyebrow. “You have?”

  “Oh, yeah. I mean, in a video game. But it was a highly realistic simulation.”

  “No doubt.” Seamus kept his eyes on the road. “Kid, have you given any thought to how we’re going to track down Colonel Zuko’s base of operations?”

  “We? Did you say we?”

  “Don’t have a stroke. Yes, I said we. How are we gonna do it?”

  “Geez, I don’t know. Do you have any leads?”

  “You’re my lead, Arlo. How are we going to find it?”

  “How would I know?”

  “An operations base like you described must need staff. There can’t be many people in the area with the techno-gizmo whiz kid qualifications to help terrorists hack into our defense computers.”

  “True.”

  “Where would we find these people? In the Washington area.”

  “How would I know?” Arlo pondered for a moment. “A lot of brainiacs hang at the university.”

  “ Georgetown? Maybe. But what about when they’re not working?”

  “I really don’t know.”

&
nbsp; “Well, what do you do in your spare time?”

  “I don’t have spare time. I mean, besides computer work. Programming. Facebook. World of Warcraft.”

  Seamus rolled his eyes. “Don’t you ever go out?”

  “Um, out?”

  “Like, to meet friends. Perchance even go on a date?”

  “I generally eschew frivolous and meaningless social encounters.”

  “You have no friends.”

  “That’s not true!”

  “When was the last time you went out on a date?”

  “What does it matter?”

  “Are you gay?”

  “No!”

  “Then it matters.” Seamus took a hard left and merged onto the parkway. He was driving too fast, but hell, he was in a hurry. Traffic was thick, but in the opposite direction. He wondered if that was because the evacuation had begun. “How can I say this, kid? You need to get a life.”

  “I have a life! I have a very rich and rewarding life-”

  “Filled with megabytes and malware and perhaps, on a really good night, Internet porn.”

  “You don’t know anything about it!”

  “No, you don’t. And you need to, because I need to know where to find the other people like you.”

  “D.C. Bytes.”

  Seamus processed a moment. “Is that a critical evaluation?”

  “No. That’s a deli and coffeehouse. Frequented by the upper echelon of the programming/hacking/phishing community.”

  “Fine. Where is it?” Arlo gave him the address. “Then that’s where we’re headed.” He glanced over his shoulder. “I’ll turn the car around and-”

  At the edge of his peripheral vision, Seamus saw something in the air. It would be impossible to describe-if he had never seen anything like it before. It looked like a horizontal crayon mark streaking across the sky and moving very fast.

  “Oh, my God,” Seamus said breathlessly.

  “What? What?” Arlo jumped up in his seat and turned toward the back. “What is it? What’s happening?”

  “We’re too late,” he said. His eyes traced the crayon mark as it passed over them. “The missile is on its way. And heading straight toward the Mall.”