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July 29, 1989
Washington, D.C.
The chase boat Coast Mount Vernon Guard cutter Dock Eagle Secret Service Command Cent UNLIKE ACTORS IN MOTION PICTURES, who take forever to wake up and answer a ringing telephone in bed, Ben Greenwald, Director of the Secret Service, came instantly alert and snatched the receiv
er before the second ring.
"Greenwald."
"Greetings," said the familiar voice of Oscar Lucas. "Sorry to wake you, but I knew you were anxious to hear the score of the soccer game.
Greenwald tensed. Any Secret Service communication opening with the word "greetings" meant the beginning of an urgent, top-secret report on a critical or grave situation. The sentence that followed was meaningless; a caution in case the telephone line might not be secure-a real possibility, since the Kissinger State Department had allowed the Russians to build their new embassy on a rise overlooking the city, vastly increasing their telephone eavesdropping capacity.
"Okay," Greenwald said, trying to sound conversational. "Who won?"
"You lost your bet."
"Bet" was another key word indicating that the next statement was coming in coded double-talk.
"Jasper College, one," Lucas continued, "Drink water Tech, nothing.
Three of the jasper players were sidelined for injuries."
The dire news exploded in Greenwald's ears. Jasper College was the code for a presidential abduction. The reference to the sidelined players meant the next three men in succession were taken too. It was a code that in Greenwald's wildest dreams he never thought he would hear.
"There's no mistake?" He asked, dreading the answer.
"None," replied Lucas, his tone like the thin edge of broken glass.
"Who else in the office pool knows the score?"
"Only Blackowl, McGrath and myself."
"Keep it that way."
"To be on the safe side," said Lucas, "I initiated an immediate assessment of the second-string players and future rookies."
Greenwald instantly picked up on Lucas' drift. The wives and children of the missing parties were being located and protected, along with the men next in line for the Presidency.
He took a deep breath and quickly arranged his thoughts. Speed was essential. Even now, if the Soviets were behind the President's kidnapping to gain an edge for a pre-emptive nuclear strike, it was too late. On the other hand, with the top government effectively removed, it hinted at a plot to overthrow the government.
There was no time left to be shackled by security. "Amen," said Greenwald, signaling Lucas that he was dropping the doable-talk.
"Understood."
A sudden terrifying thought swept Greenwald's mind. "The bag man?" He asked nervously.
"Gone with the rest."
Oh, dear God, Greenwald agonized to himself silently. Disaster was piling on top of disaster. "Bag man" was the irreverent nickname for the field-grade officer at the President's side day and night who carried the briefcase containing codes called release messages that could unleash the nation's 10,000 strategic nuclear warheads on pre-selected targets inside Soviet Russia. The consequences of the ultra secret codes falling into alien hands were beyond any conceivable horror.
"Alert the Chairman of the joint Chiefs of Staff," he ordered.
"Then send a detail to pick up the Secretaries of State and Defense, also the National Security Adviser, and rush them to the White House Situation Room."
"Anyone on the presidential staff?"
"Okay, bring in Dan Fawcett. But for now let's keep it a closed club. The fewer who know the 'Man' is missing until we can sort things out, the better."
