Capitol Betrayal

by William Bernhardt

  “I noticed that he had moved, too,” Secretary Ruiz said. “I just didn’t put the pieces together.”

  “Passing me the note about Secretary Ruiz’s connection to Apollo was a nice touch,” Ben added. “It directed my suspicions to him-and diverted them from you. Briefly.”

  “This gets crazier by the minute,” Rybicki said. He was pacing back and forth, practically wearing a hole into the carpet. “Why would I do such a thing?”

  “I’m guessing you want the colonel to detonate another missile on American soil and inflict serious casualties. Because that tragedy will lay the foundation for whatever dramatic foreign policy shift you want.”

  “And what might that be? Since you have all the answers.”

  “I think you’re in a better position to explain than I am,” Ben suggested. “But it would appear to me that, like the vice president, you want America out of the Middle East. Altogether. To give the colonel what he wants.” He paused. “But Swinburne wants us out because he thinks our foreign entanglements are compromising our national security. I don’t know what your motive is-but it’s more than that.”

  “So just tell us already,” Kyler said. His teeth were tightly clenched. “I trusted you, Rybicki. And I for one would like to know what made you go rogue.”

  Rybicki sputtered. “But-but-”

  “Damn it, man,” Cartwright said sharply, “we all know you did it. It’s written all over your face. So tell us why!”

  “But I-I never-”

  “Goddamn it!” Kyler bellowed, slapping his hand against the table. “We want to know why!”

  “I-I-I-” Rybicki looked helplessly from one face to the next. “I just want what’s best for the country! In this temple as in the hearts of the people!”

  “I thought as much,” Ben said. “What is it you were after?”

  “I want the same thing you want, Kincaid.”

  “I very much doubt that.”

  “It’s true. Don’t you think the United States needs to commit to alternative energies? To end our addiction to oil?”

  And all at once, Ben could see the whole picture all too quickly. “Oh, my God.”

  “Why do you think we’re in the Middle East, anyway?” Rybicki asked.

  Kyler answered. “To protect Israel. To give us a foothold closer to Asia. And, of course, to ensure the steady supply of oil.”

  “Yes, and let’s face it, the last one is the one that really matters. That’s the reason we keep invading over and over again. We need oil. We endanger our security and we enrich some of the most dangerous people in the world to feed our dependency on a rapidly diminishing fossil fuel. It’s insane! And yet nothing stops us. Carter urged restraint, slower driving, energy conservation-and we practically impeached him for it. Americans think they are entitled to all the oil they want. Even when the price of oil went sky-high in 2008, consumption barely dropped. We simply can’t quit. We’re addicted!”

  “So you were going to force our hand,” Ben said.

  “It’s the only way! We can supply our own needs if we just practice conservation and make the relatively simple conversion to natural gas. So why don’t we? Why aren’t we seriously pursuing solar energy, wind, water? We’ve been talking about these alternatives since the seventies, but we’re still not making any significant progress. Because the oil companies are too entrenched, too well connected. Because oil is cheaper.”

  “So you were going to fix all that?” Kyler asked.

  “I wanted to make America safe again. In this temple and in the hearts of the people.”

  “I’m not following this,” Ben said. “If that’s your goal, why do you want our troops out of the Middle East?”

  “So they won’t be hurt.”

  A long line creased Ben’s brow. “Hurt? How?”

  For the first time, Rybicki smiled, and the smile sent chills up Ben’s spine. “So I see there’s at least one thing the brilliant lawyer didn’t quite put together. That makes me happy.”

  “I still don’t understand,” Ben said. “What did I miss?”

  “You’re operating under the assumption that Zuko is the one who engineered the theft of the nuclear suitcase in Arlington. But you’re wrong.” A full-out grin spread across his face. “It was me.”

  52

  12:29 P.M.

  “You’ve got the nuclear suitcase?” Kyler said incredulously. Rybicki smiled defiantly. “I used Zuko’s people. But there was a quid pro quo: I helped them get into the defense computers, and they helped me get the suitcase. And they did.”

  “What were you planning to do with it?”

  Rybicki opted not to answer the question. His hands were twitching. “I don’t believe I care to answer that question. I want a lawyer.” He paused. “And I don’t mean Kincaid, either.”

  The president nodded. “Did you seriously think you could get away with this?”

  No response.

  “Does this betrayal mean nothing to you? Are you so self-righteous you believed you were justified in endangering thousands of lives?”

  Rybicki looked away.

  “Fine.” The president’s frustration rippled through his face. “Agent Zimmer, I think you can forget about stepping down pending an investigation. There’s not going to be an investigation-of you. I’d like the secretary of defense placed in custody pending formal charges.”

  “Yes, sir. Gioia?”

  The agent stepped forward. “Right here.”

  “Take the secretary of defense into the next room and restrain him until we get the all-clear signal to leave the bunker.”

  “Will do.” Gioia took Rybicki by the arm and led him away. Ben was relieved to see that he did not resist.

  “Mr. President.” Zimmer had his hand pressed against his right earphone. “I’ve finally been able to contact Colonel Zuko.”

  “I’ll take it,” Kyler said.

  “Wait just a minute!” Swinburne whined. “I won that trial. You have been relieved-”

  “That trial was invalid,” Cartwright said, “based on fraud tainting the verdict. I’m setting that verdict aside. If you want to institute more proceedings at a later time, you can-though I wouldn’t recommend it. For now, Roland Kyler remains president.”

  Swinburne sputtered nonsensically.

  “Oh, be quiet,” Kyler said, shoving him aside. “And just in case you haven’t guessed, I want your resignation on my desk tomorrow morning.”

  “But-but-”

  “Just do it,” President Kyler said. “You’ll be saving yourself a lot of embarrassment. Now put the colonel on speaker.”

  Ben couldn’t help smiling as Kyler stepped up to the communications station. He seemed strong, back in control, and-best of all-presidential.

  “Mr. President,” the colonel said in his usual taunting tone, “I have given you some leeway on your deadline, but no more! If you do not remove your troops immediately, I’ll-”

  “You won’t do a thing,” President Kyler interrupted, “and we both know it. You’re not the forgiving type, colonel. If you had the ability to launch a missile, you would’ve already done it. I don’t know exactly what happened, but I have to assume that one of my operatives succeeded in his mission and took down your petty little terrorist operation. And just in case you’re wondering, yes, we know Secretary Rybicki was helping you. It won’t happen again.”

  “You don’t know what you’re talking about!” the colonel fumed. “I can detonate your missiles at-”

  “Yeah, sure you can. Now listen up, Colonel, and listen good. Our troops are going into your country, but they’re going in for two purposes only: to rescue the people who went down in that helicopter, and to wrest control of Benzai. You are not going to occupy that territory, and you are not going to exterminate its people. If you stay out of our way, we’ll accomplish our mission and go. If you try to interfere in any way-any way whatsoever-we will not stop until we have seized control of your entire nation, pulled you off the throne, and put yo
u under arrest. I’m sure the entire world would rejoice to see you standing trial for crimes against humanity. And that’s exactly what’s going to happen if you don’t stay out of our way. Do you understand me?”

  Several seconds passed before he replied. “I understand. But-”

  “Good.” Kyler made a slashing gesture across his neck. Zimmer cut off the communications line.

  “That was absolutely brilliant,” Cartwright said. “You have my congratulations. I wonder what that sick buzzard will try next.”

  “Let’s hope nothing. Is he trying to reconnect, Zimmer?”

  The agent shook his head. “He seems to be done. I think you put him in his place but good, sir.”

  “Let’s hope this means the crisis is over. I think we could all use a breather.”

  Ben couldn’t have heard happier words. “Does that mean we can leave the bunker? Make a phone call?”

  “Not just yet,” Zimmer said. “I need an official all-clear from the CIA and the military task force investigating the missile crisis.”

  “How long will that take?”

  “I don’t know, Ben. But I’d rather keep you down here too long than not long enough.”

  A valid point. “I think I’ll visit Secretary Rybicki. I still have a few questions I’d like to ask him.”

  “He won’t talk.”

  “I’ve heard that before. You never know.”

  Ben crossed the room, opened the door, and entered the small adjoining room.

  And gasped.

  Agent Gioia was lying on the floor. A slow trickle of blood flowed from the side of his head.

  Secretary Rybicki was gone.

  53

  12:42. P.M.

  Secretary Rybicki slowed as he approached the gateway to the north rear parking area. He didn’t want anyone to know he had been running. But he knew that if he didn’t get off the premises before the boys downstairs noticed he was gone, then he never would.

  The 17th and Pennsylvania vehicle entrance was restricted to a limited few with clearance, and then only after passing through a series of gateposts and checkpoints. Of course, as a cabinet member, he had the magic blue sticker on the dash of his car that meant he didn’t have to put up with any of that.

  He smiled at the two marines stationed at the door without stopping. Just as he always did. Friendly, but not too friendly. Recognizing that they were there, but not too much. He was the secretary of defense, after all. Marines were under his supervision, not the other way around.

  He had texted ahead so that they would bring round his car. As he walked down the steps, he saw an attractive redhead walking toward him.

  Could it possibly be…?

  Someone up there must love him after all.

  “Ms. McCall?”

  Christina looked up.

  “I’m Albert Rybicki. Secretary of defense? We met at the Press Club-”

  “Of course.” She smiled. “I’m sorry. My mind was elsewhere.”

  “That’s understandable. This has been a very trying day. For everyone.”

  “I’ll bet. Were you down in the bunker?”

  “I was, yes.”

  “Can you get me in? I want to see Ben.”

  “Oh, Ben.” His brain was racing. “Well, that’s just the thing. He isn’t there anymore.”

  “He’s not?”

  “No. He was released about a hour ago. To a… secret location.”

  “And he didn’t call me?”

  “I doubt they would let him.”

  She looked put out, but it was probably more worry than anything else. “Is there any way I can see him? Or at least get a message to him? There’s something I really wanted to tell him. It’s important.”

  “Maybe I could take a message.”

  “No. I want to tell him myself.”

  He snapped his fingers. “Well, I’m headed to the safe house right now. I don’t think anyone would object if I brought you with me.”

  “Really?”

  “You’re married to a member of the White House staff. You already have provisional clearance, don’t you?”

  “How else could I be here?”

  “Exactly. Hop in my car. We’ll be there in ten minutes.”

  “I could just follow you in my car.”

  “Um, no. If someone saw you tailing me, they might send a fighter plane to take you out.”

  “That would be bad. Which one is your car?”

  He watched as she clambered into his car, resisting the desire to smile. This was almost too easy. And too delicious. Another minute and he would be free. Then he would pick up his little parcel. And he and his newfound friend would travel together to their destination.

  But only one of them would leave.

  Good thing he had thought to take Agent Gioia’s gun.

  They might’ve stopped the missiles, but they couldn’t stop him. He would fulfill his final mission.

  And he would take his revenge against Kincaid, too.

  54

  12:54 P.M.

  “Zimmer!” Ben shouted. “He’s missing!”

  Barely a second later, Agent Zimmer was inside the small briefing room. “Where’s Rybicki?”

  “Exactly.”

  Zimmer crouched down beside his fallen comrade. “Gioia’s not dead. Just unconscious. Rybicki must’ve had some kind of weapon. Or improvised a blunt instrument. Picked up a paperweight or something. Probably what he used on the breaker box, too.”

  Zimmer opened another door and entered the small foyer that led to the elevator. “He must have gone topside.”

  “You’ve got men up there, don’t you?”

  “Yes. But they don’t have any reason to stop the secretary of defense. He has clearance to pass through the building as he wishes.” Zimmer barked orders into his headset. Ben was impressed once more at how levelheaded Zimmer was. Even a snafu of this magnitude didn’t faze him.

  “He’s left the premises,” Zimmer updated him. “I’m sending people after him. There’s not much he can do now that Zuko has lost control of the missiles.”

  “Unless he gets his hands on that nuclear suitcase.”

  “Wasn’t he planning to use that in the Persian Gulf?”

  “He was. But he can’t do that now. God knows what he might try instead.”

  Zimmer frowned. “I’ll double the detachment looking for him. Don’t worry. We’ll find him.”

  And Ben knew they would find him. Eventually. The question was whether they would find him in time.

  President Kyler entered the room. “What’s going on? Where’s Rybicki?” He saw the bloodstained body on the floor. “What in the name of-?”

  Ben filled him in as best he could as Zimmer continued to receive updates over his headset.

  “We have to find that madman,” President Kyler said.

  Ben agreed. “But our first priority has to be the recovery of that suitcase.”

  Kyler nodded grimly.

  “We have another problem,” Zimmer said. He was frowning, which might be the most emotion Ben had seen him register all day.

  “What’s wrong?” Ben asked.

  “I’m not quite sure how to tell you this. Probably best just to get out with it. Your wife was upstairs. At the rear receiving gate.”

  Ben’s eyes bulged. “Christina? Where is she now?”

  Zimmer swallowed. “She went with Rybicki.”

  Ben seized him by the arms. “What? Why?”

  Zimmer shook his head, still listening to words streaming in from the other side. “I don’t know the details. Sounds as if he offered to take her to you.”

  “Christina? With that… that lunatic? The one who thinks he can solve the world’s problems with a bomb?” His voice fell. “The one who still has a bomb stashed somewhere nearby?”

  “I’m afraid so.”

  Ben opened the door to the corridor and walked outside. A moment later he punched the elevator button. “I’m going up.”

  Zimmer stepped in
front of him. “I can’t allow that. We haven’t gotten the all-clear signal yet.”

  “The president believes the crisis is over. The one from Colonel Zuko, anyway.”

  “If there’s a potential nuclear threat, I can’t-”

  “The president needs to stay down here. I don’t.”

  Zimmer held his ground. “Ben, I’m sorry, but I can’t allow you to endanger yourself”

  “I’m sorry, Zimmer,” Ben said, looking him straight in the eye, “but you can’t stop me, unless you’re planning to draw your weapon. Is that what you’re going to do?”

  Zimmer’s hand went to his holster.

  “Really?” Ben asked. “After all I’ve done down here? You’re going to pull a gun on me?”

  Zimmer hesitated. “Mr. President?”

  Kyler looked at Ben sternly. “I can’t authorize the premature release of anyone from the bunker. I can’t be held accountable if some tragedy should occur.”

  Zimmer pulled out the gun.

  “Please,” Ben said. “Just let me-”

  “On the other hand,” the president continued, walking back toward the main room, “I’m not in charge of Robert Griswold’s legal staff. I can’t keep track of everyone. How am I supposed to know what some renegade lawyer does?” He closed the door behind him.

  Zimmer put the gun back in the holster.

  The elevator doors opened. Ben stepped inside.

  “Thanks,” Ben said breathlessly.

  “Godspeed,” Zimmer said quietly as the doors closed between them.

  Part Five. The Pages of History

  *

  55

  1:21 P.M.

  Ben stood outside the Lincoln Memorial, desperate to get inside. The authorities had cordoned off the building. Sirens were wailing. Any nonessential personnel were being hurriedly whisked away. Ben wasn’t sure who was in charge-the CIA, the FBI, the local police-and he didn’t really care. All he knew for certain was that he wanted in. And he also knew why he couldn’t get in.