allies.” He paused. “All American government personnel in Syria have been airlifted out. All other Americans known to be in Syria have been given early warning to leave the country immediately.
“The Sharia Group’s own ransom demand conceded that the United States has every right to defend itself when attacked and to also strike back against any nation that assisted in that attack. And America will not be dictated to by terrorists.” Here Hamilton gave a long pause. “Thus, my fellow Americans, the decision has been made by me, as your commander in chief, after consultation with the secretary of defense and the Pentagon.”
“Oh, shit,” Alex and Kate blurted out together, for they knew what was coming.
“We now make our demand of the kidnappers.” Hamilton paused again and squared his shoulders. “If President James H. Brennan is not returned to us safely within eight hours from this exact moment in time, I have instructed my military commanders to immediately thereafter launch a limited nuclear missile strike against Damascus, Syria. The only way in which Damascus will avoid such a fate is if our president is returned to his countrymen unharmed within the allotted time. If President Brennan is in Medina, then he can be turned over to the American embassy in Saudi Arabia, and the launch will be called off. I pray that the kidnappers will comply with our demand immediately. If not, may God have mercy on the people of Damascus. There will be no negotiations and no reprieves. Members of the Sharia Group, you said you would return our president to us unharmed. Do so in the time dictated by the United States, or Damascus will pay the price for your heinous crime.” Hamilton paused again. “God bless you, my fellow Americans, and may God bless the United States.”
As the president faded out, everyone in Alex’s living room sat motionless in their chairs, holding their breaths. It was a scene doubtless replicated in a hundred million homes around America, and across the world.
An anguished Kate looked over at Alex. “This could be the beginning of the end.”
“If it is, it is,” Stone said calmly. “But it will do us no good to sit around waiting for the mushroom cloud to appear over Damascus.”
“What the hell can we do, Oliver?” Alex asked.
“Find the president!” Stone snapped.
“How?” Alex shot back angrily. “He’s in Medina.”
“I don’t believe that and I hope you don’t either.” He looked at Milton. “Show him the DVD.”
Milton opened his laptop. “This is the video that was taken during the break-in at my house, Agent Ford.”
“What the hell does this have to do with anything?” Alex shouted. “We are going to launch a nuclear missile in eight hours. Don’t you understand that?”
“Look at the film, Alex,” Kate pleaded.
Alex finally threw up his hands and plopped down on the floor in front of the laptop.
“Damn,” he said a minute later. “That’s Tyler Reinke and Warren Peters. They’re from NIC.”
“I thought they were NIC employees,” Stone said.
“Why’d you think that?”
“Because they were also the ones who killed Patrick Johnson.”
Alex sat back, stunned. “Why would they have killed Johnson?”
“Because he was altering files at NIC. Making people seem dead who weren’t really dead. And I think someone was paying him a lot of money to do it, but Johnson got greedy or sloppy or both.”
“Let me get this straight. Johnson was altering files at NIC to make some people appear dead who really weren’t?”
Stone said, “We believe that these men were the ones used in Brennan, Pennsylvania. The newspapers said that not one of the Arabs killed there was in the NIC files. That is inconceivable. I think these men were human sterilized weapons, and they were used to kidnap President Brennan. When we searched Reinke’s home, we discovered that he’d invested a lot of borrowed money in expectation of the stock market plummeting, which it has now.”
“Are you saying this whole thing was about making money in the stock market?” Alex exclaimed.
“No, it’s much deeper than that,” Stone replied.
Alex looked at him. “Any idea who’s behind it?”
“Someone high up at NIC,” Stone ventured. “Higher than Reinke and Peters certainly.”
“Let me take another look at that video,” Alex said.
He watched once more as Reinke and then Peters appeared on the screen. Then he pointed at the image of the man in the black mask as he leveled the security guard. “He hit the guy pretty hard,” Alex noted. “He had to check his pulse to make sure he hadn’t killed him.”
Reuben suddenly put a finger up to his lips and motioned toward the window. The blind was drawn but the window was open. They all had heard it now: footsteps.
Alex eyed Stone, and the pair quickly reached a silent agreement. Stone motioned to Reuben to join the Secret Service agent. While the group talked as though they were all still there, Alex pulled his gun and silently opened the front door. He went left while Reuben went to the right and around the side of the house toward the rear.
A minute later they all heard screams and a struggle, and then silence. Then the front door opened and Alex marched in. Behind him Reuben was carrying someone.
Jackie Simpson didn’t look very happy.
All eyes were on Jackie Simpson as she and Stone engaged in a protracted stare-down. Finally, Simpson broke off and looked at Alex for help.
“Alex, what the hell is going on? What am I supposed to do here?”
“We’re trying to figure this all out, Jackie. Until we do, we can’t say anything, to anybody.”
Caleb looked at his watch. ?
?We now have exactly seven hours and forty-one minutes to find Brennan and prevent a possible Armageddon.”