Chapter 33

My mind was whirling around trying to make sense of the information as it was being developed and related to me.

What sort of madman wants to take on the entire Unites States Government?

Who all is involved in this conspiracy?

Why does someone from The Czech Republic, who lives in Germany and banks in Geneva hate Sam Brownbock enough to hire a madman to shoot down Marine One with a hand held missile?

How do these people smuggle a missile that close to Marine One?

What is the end game and how do they plan to get there?

Kane Fashen was burning the midnight oil along with Director Joshua Walsh of the CIA. They and the FBI were casting their nets wide enough to catch those connected to the people that occupied the house at Broad and Falls Church Road. It felt like the ground was literally shaking in political terms as agents spread out and ran down leads, questioned people even slightly connected to those we that were identified and rounded up.

Our guests weren’t choosing to talk just yet. They must have thought that they would be seeing lawyers who would have a word with a friendly judge and then walk them casually out of the pinch they were in. That often happened, but not when you are chief suspect in an attempt on the life of President. When they realized that their next address would be Cuba their stone hard determination might fade just a bit.

By the time I was back in town, the medical reports had Sam still under as the brain settled down from the very hard landing. I had Marine Two take me direct to Walter Reed and stayed for about an hour, offering comfort to Sam’s wife and family and asking probing questions of the medical staff.

After not learning more than I had been briefed, I headed for the Observatory and started my day just like any other day to keep the press from speculating about Sam’s condition. It was a good idea but didn’t work out all that well because the press decided to hold a modern revival of “Playhouse Ninety” over the incident and fall all over each other trying to out sensationalize their competitors.

Finding me home in the Vice Presidential Mansion going about an ordinary day, did take the steam out of some reporters but others continued to pile on like it was the second coming, or final judgement. Charger and I remained calm, clear headed and focused on bringing a conspiracy to its knees, instead of allowing the press to use me to get people even more riled up.

The Secret Service informed me that the President was awake shortly after lunch and I asked for a ride to Walter Reed. We landed on the roof among incredible security and I was rushed inside to avoid any potential shooters. To have shot me the enemy would have had to have dangled a shooter in mid-air above the hospital and have an invisible man to avoid the Secret Service. The mechanics were such that they wouldn’t have been able to get a glimpse of me before I was inside and out of sight. Another perfect example of carefully closing the barn door right after all the horses ran out.

“How are you doing, Boss?” I asked my question gently as I was shown into the Presidential Suite. Head wounds hurt and I did not wish to make it worse.

Sam looked ... tired. Even after sleeping all night he looked much worse for wear and I knew he would be taking things a little easier for the next month, or so. That meant we all needed to come together to lessen his workload, streamline his briefing burdens and pull together as team until he tells us that he feels back to normal. We chatted about his current condition before talking about the events of the day.

“Mr. President,” I asked, quietly. It was near the end of our conversation. The Attorney General and Director of the FBI were present to witness our discussion.

“Yes, Thomas.”

“Mr. President, may I have your permission to call a Cabinet Meeting and inform them - all together - that you are fully recovered, in improving health and resting for a day, or two from your ordeal?”

He saw through my ruse and said, “Thomas. I know exactly what you mean. Call them together and scare the living crap out of them, in case some Cabinet Secretary thinks they can run a rogue Department while I am resting. You also have my directive to look as deeply into the missile attack as you wish and order and - or take extraordinary measures to safeguard my safety, as well as your own.

“Got it?” He was nothing if not specific.

“Of course I will, Mr. President.” I was off the tether, at last. Some very bad people were about to have a very bad day.

“Charger, my old buddy, you and me are about to embark on a search. And I know precisely how we are going to start.” He didn’t seem all that affected by my words, but he did seem to like hearing the sound of my voice.

We were walking inside my protective bubble, but alone, or as close to alone as you can be when surrounded by thirty Secret Service Agents just dying to shoot someone. The shooting down of Marine One had the tension around the intelligence community ratcheted up so high that I felt it was possible to literally cut the air with a sharp knife.

My bubble looked bigger, meaner, more menacing and on a bit of a hair trigger. If these guys were wound up, the ones down-stream had to be just as stressed. We had a handful of suspects in custody and the net was widening as forensic investigators followed financial trails, while electronics experts duped out cell phone records, cell tower activity and physical movements of several people that our guys hoped would lead them to others.

We would be burning the midnight oil and since the Attorney General offered no objection to extraordinary investigation, surveillance and questioning. It was for that very reason I asked the question while the Attorney general was present.

After Charger and I were safely inside Marine Two, I called the White House and spoke to the President’s personal secretary, asking her to call the Cabinet together in two hours, with no exceptions. The only way I was going to accept the absence of a Cabinet Secretary was if they were legitimately out of town. With our boss in the hospital following an attempt on his life, any Secretary worth keeping would be nearby until everything is back to normal.