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“No, sir,” the security officer replies. “It’s she. President Barrett has resigned. Vice President Hernandez has been sworn in.”
Tucker sits back, relief coming to him, but checking his watch, he wonders if he’ll get there in time.
Like they were sensing his mood, the police cruisers and Tahoe increase their speed, heading north to avert global disaster.
CHAPTER 146
NOA HIMEL KNOWS she should be paying close attention to what’s happening in front of her in the Presidential Suite, because in future histories to be written, this room and its participants will be remembered as much as the crowded cabin on Air Force One in Dallas on November 22, 1963, and in the East Wing of the White House on August 9, 1974.
But she hurts too much to care about history.
Her wrist and side are throbbing something awful, and she feels faint and like throwing up on this nice clean floor.
Noa looks to the clock.
It’s 11:54 a.m.
Just six minutes left.
In her haze she hears her boss yell, “Where in hell is the goddamn officer with the football?”
One of the nurses says something about how since the vice president was in a coma, orders from the White House came to remove the football and the accompanying officer.
Noa has a sense of who was behind that move. What now?
No football.
No communications.
War will break out shortly.
Her fault. If she hadn’t been so wound up in getting revenge for her dead cousin, blown to pieces in Beirut, with only bits of bloody clothing, bone, and flesh remaining.
Clothing.
Shouts from outside the room and an Army general and his assistant rush in, the assistant carrying a heavy black satchel, the older general she now recognizes as Tucker Wyman, chairman of the Joint Chiefs of Staff.
“Doug, get the comm set up, get a link to Cybercommand in Fort Meade,” he says. “Madam President, we don’t have much time.”
In her weak voice, she says, “I know … war … about to break out …”
The general says, “Your authorization card? Where is it?”
President Hernandez coughs. “I just woke up an hour ago. How in hell should I know?”
More loud words, the assistant saying, “General Wyman, I’ve got a secure line.”
Her boss says, “But that’s worth shit without the biscuit.”
It comes to her.
Noa calls out, “Clothing.”
The president says, “Can’t … we … stop … without it?”
“No,” General Wyman says. “We need the codes. We can’t do anything without them. Cybercommand has received a duly authorized order from the National Command Authority. They won’t step down without the proper codes.”
Noa yells, “Clothing, people!”
