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ChapterEight
Reese
Now
“What the fuck happened?”
Dean McClintock, the national security advisor, speaks first. Rage makes his hands shake, and he clasps them in front of his mouth. His East Texas twang—piney woods and swampy earth—is more pronounced than usual. Like mine, it crawls out when he’s stressed, when he’s tired. Unlike mine, it also comes out when he’s butting heads with Brennan. I’ve heard them go at it at full volume, bellowing over each other everywhere from the Oval to the Situation Room.
It’s hard to meet McClintock’s gaze. “We’re trying to understand that, sir.”
McClintock curses again. He pushes his fingers into his red-rimmed eyes and lets out a slow, haggard sigh.
Patrick Marshall, the vice president, sits in one of the Queen Anne chairs. He’s frozen, his fingers steepled in front of his lips while he stares into the fireplace as if answers are buried in the cold coals.
Director Peter Britton, my boss, has his elbows on his knees and is looking at the ground like he hopes it will open and swallow him whole.
Devastation hangs in the stale air. Despair slides down the wallpaper and puddles on the floor. Panic sublimates through the carpet.
I wasn’t allowed into the Oval right away. Sheridan and I were stopped by a red-faced, tear-soaked Matt. “You’ll have to wait,” he’d gasped, barely able to choke out the words. “The vice president is on the phone with Director Liu.”
I almost shoved Matt aside and stormed in. CIA Director Liu is exactly who I need to speak to. He’s the one Brennan was supposed to meet.
What was Liu going to brief him on?What was so dangerous that Brennan had to keep it from everyone in his own administration?
Why are good men dead, and why is Brennan missing?
Director Britton raises his head. “What happened, Theriot? President Walker’s schedule has him upstairs in the Residence at the time of the accident.”
Sheridan squirms. Britton’s gaze darts to him, sweeping over his ruined, mud-covered suit, then skips back to me. I don’t look any better. Sweat has dried in sheets on my skin. Soot and ash are smeared over my face. I’ll never get the smoke or the stench of death out of my suit.
How much can I say? Brennan made me promise I would keep the briefing a secret.
See how that turned out?
“President Walker scheduled an off-the-books briefing with Director Liu at two a.m. I assisted the president by providing cover for the meeting, and I arranged secure, clandestine transport to Langley for him. We ran a closed op. Two-on-one protection. A single car, running dark. It was need-to-know only.”
McClintock’s head snaps up as Britton pales, but Marshall is the first to respond. “Do you know what this meeting was about?” His gaze doesn’t move from the fireplace until after he’s spoken.
When his eyes meet mine, my breath stops. Merde, Marshall is out for blood. Fury has settled inside him like a new set of bones.
“No, Mr. Vice President.”
“We need to discuss how we’re going to brief the public,” Britton says. “The media is rumbling. We’ve managed to hold them off with President Walker’s official schedule from last night, and I’ve had my staff leak to the press that it was a Secret Service agent who crashed in the park after his shift. But that won’t last long.”
“Has the attorney general arrived?” Marshall asks.
“Not yet.” McClintock shakes his head. “I couldn’t tell him what happened over the phone, so he’s taking his time. You know that bastard.”
“He’s holding up Patrick’s swearing-in,” Britton snaps. “The nation needs a president!”
They’re getting ahead of themselves. “President Walker isn’t dead.”
Silence sweeps the Oval. Three heads swivel to me.
“Theriot—” Britton starts.
“Forensics at the scene point to a kidnapping. There’s only two sets of human remains, most likely Agents Ellis and Stewart, who were both in the front seats. There were no human remains, not even partials, in the passenger compartment. Someone fired a shot inside the SUV. There’s a bullet embedded in the inside front door panel. There’s also tire burnout on the road. Henry—Agent Ellis, the driver—tried to evade something or someone, and when he did, he lost control of the vehicle and went over the embankment. Somebody attacked them, sir.”
