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“This is Mrs. Cappuano. Can you please put me through to the president?”
“I’m sorry, but I can’t do that.”
“This is Samantha Cappuano. I want to talk to my husband.”
“Do you know how many calls we get every day from people claiming to be Mrs. Cappuano?”
“Please. Our friend was taken hostage. I need to get word to him that she and her son are safe. He’ll be senseless with worry for them. I don’t have the BlackBerry with me.”
“I’ll pass along the message.”
“Please make sure that you do. It’s urgent. Tell him to call me on my regular number.”
“Yes, ma’am.”
By the time she hung up, Sam thought she had the woman convinced that it was really her. She sure as hell hoped the woman delivered that message, or there’d be hell to pay at the White House.
Nick was relievedto get the message from Sam about Shelby and Noah and was heading to the bedroom to call Sam when Brant appeared in the hallway.
“Commander Rodriguez has asked for a minute. He says it’s urgent.”
Lieutenant Commander Juan Rodriguez was one of the military attachés assigned to Nick. They were the holders of the so-called “nuclear football” codes.
With the kids tucked into bed, Nick called Celia to tell her he needed to go to the office for a minute, but the kids were in bed.
“I’ll turn on my monitor and keep an eye on it.”
“Thank you, Celia.”
“No problem.”
He headed downstairs to the first floor and was surprised to find Commander Rodriguez waiting for him at the foot of the stairs, dressed in street clothes.
“Mr. President, I’m sorry to disturb you.”
“That’s all right, Juan. What’s going on?”
“I’m not sure, sir.”
Nick had never seen the man so rattled.
“Could we go to the Situation Room?” Juan asked.
The request only put Nick more on edge than he already was. “Of course.”
Nick, Juan and Brant took the elevator down to the basement room that was the most secure space in the building. Brant keyed them into the room and gestured for Nick and Juan to go in while he waited outside. As soon as the door closed, sealing the two of them into the room, Juan turned to Nick.
“I heard something, and I don’t know if it’s true.”
“Okay…”
“Wilson is planning something.”
Nick had inherited Army General Michael Wilson as chairman of the Joint Chiefs of Staff from former President Nelson. The Joint Chiefs were made up of the top officers in all the services, and they served as the principal military advisers to the president. “What do you mean?”
“That’s the thing. I’m not sure. A friend at the Pentagon told me that Wilson has been holding high-level meetings all week, but no one knows what’s on the agenda. He said there’s talk—and this is the part that could get me court-martialed in any number of ways, so you didn’t hear it from me…”
“I would never give you up,” Nick said, his stomach churning as he waited for the other shoe to fall.
