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“How do you want me to handle it?”
Stansfield lowered his hands and thought about it. “Use your best judgment. I’m all for sharing information, as long as our sources and operations aren’t compromised in the process.”
“And, of course, as long as we get something in return.” Kennedy smiled.
The right side of Stansfield’s mouth turned ever so slightly upward. “Yes.”
Kennedy nodded and handed her boss a red plastic folder. The white label on the cover was adorned with the requisite letters, or as Agency insiders liked to say, “alphabet soup.” This particular string of letters told the director that the file contained signal intelligence and Keyhole, or satellite, imagery. The TS and SCI notations also told him the file was top secret and compartmentalized.
As director of the CIA’s Counterterrorism Center, Kennedy was responsible for keeping Stansfield informed on all of the various threats against the U.S. On this particular morning the subject was North Korea. She had barely made it through the first page of the briefing when Stansfield’s phone rang. Kennedy paused to see if he would answer it.
The director grabbed the handset and said, “Stansfield.”
“Director Stansfield, we have a flash-traffic-priority call from Iron Man, for you or Dr. Kennedy.”
“Patch him through.” Stansfield hit the speakerphone button and replaced the handset.
There were several clicks on the line, and then Stansfield said, “Hello.”
“Sir, we’ve got a big problem,” started an agitated Rapp. “Is Irene there?”
“Yes. She’s sitting right next to me.” Rapp’s frazzled tone did not go unnoticed by Stansfield and Kennedy.
“Aziz is in D.C.”
“Say again.”
Rapp repeated himself more deliberately. “Aziz is in D.C.”
“Are you sure?” asked Kennedy.
“Yes. Dr. Hornig is positive. She’s been working on Harut for close to thirty minutes and says there is no way he’s lying. And that’s only part of it.” There was a brief pause on the line. “Harut says Aziz’s target is the White House.”
There was a moment of shocked silence while Kennedy and Stansfield looked at each other. After several seconds, Rapp asked, “Did you hear what I said?”
“Yes we heard you, Mitch,” answered Stansfield. “It’s just a little much. We need to be sure about this before we—”
Rapp cut him off. “Well, unfortunately we don’t have that luxury. According to Harut, the attack is supposed to take place today!”
Kennedy stood and placed both hands on the desk. “What are we talking-about here, Mitch? What kind of an attack?”
“All he keeps saying is an all-out assault. A raid.”
“How?” Kennedy asked.
“I don’t know. Dr. Hornig is trying to find out more.”
Stansfield stood and joined Kennedy in looking down at the phone. “Is there anything else, Mitch?”
“Not right now.”
“All right. We’d better get to work on this. We have to make some calls on this end. Call us back the second you find anything else out.”
“Roger.”
Stansfield punched the button and disconnected the call. He and Kennedy were face-to-face leaning over the desk. Stansfield looked out the window briefly and then back to Kennedy. “Call Jack Warch and tell him we have a strong reason to believe there is a terrorist attack planned against the White House, and tell him we think it’s planned for today.”
“What about the president?”
