“After a discussion with Stone Barrington, our consultant, whose opinion I respect, I’ve come to the conclusion that the president should address the nation and tell them what happened in Los Angeles. If he doesn’t and the story leaks, it would be much more damaging than if he tells all now. In light of what Felicity has just told us, I believe he should also reveal the existence of the al Qaeda cells in American cities and put the entire Homeland Security network on high alert. As we receive more information, the White House should release names and photographs as they come in, and we’ll have the whole country looking for them. This will inevitably lead to a great many false sightings, but even that will tend to keep the country on alert.”
“Thank you for that, Holly, and please thank Stone for his help. You are to transmit this information to the New York City police commissioner tomorrow morning. By that
time, the FBI will have already alerted their people in New York. You have the authority to activate the situation room under the New York station for whatever use you wish. When it’s up and running, you’ll be able to see simultaneously whatever we’re receiving in the White House situation room. We’ll speak again at ten o’clock tomorrow morning. Good night.”
“Good night, Director.” Holly ended the connection.
“I didn’t know there was a situation room under your New York building,” Stone said.
“Neither did I,” Holly replied. She picked up the phone. “I’m calling the commissioner.”
“He’ll be sound asleep.”
“Not for long,” she replied.
Holly had just reached her desk the following morning when there was a knock on her door. She looked up to see a slim, blond woman in her forties standing at the door.
“Good morning, Chief,” the woman said. “I’m Phyllis Schackelford. I’m section head of Analysis, and I have an additional duty of running our situation room downstairs. Would you like to see it?”
“Yes, I would,” Holly said.
“Please come with me.” She led the way to the elevators, and while they waited for the car she handed Holly an odd-looking key. “You should keep this. It will get you all the way downstairs, and it will work in any lock in the building.”
The elevator arrived, and Phyllis indicated four buttons, marked S1 through S4. “Sub-basement four is the situation room,” she said. “Please insert your key in the lock next to the button, turn it ninety degrees to the right, then press the S4 button.”
Holly turned the key, and the S4 button light came on. She pressed the button, and the elevator started down.
“We’re traveling down through sixty feet of Manhattan bedrock,” she said. “All the power cables and utilities are in an adjacent shaft.” The elevator stopped, and the doors opened. As they did, lights came on in a vestibule. They stepped out, and the doors closed behind them.
Phyllis went to the wall to their right and opened a panel, revealing perhaps fifty switches. She inserted a key in a lock at the top and turned it to the right. All of the switches instantly repositioned themselves to the on position. Phyllis closed the panel, then walked to a pair of sliding doors and inserted her key into another lock and turned it. The doors slid open, revealing a large conference room. A wall of monitors began coming to life.
“What you’re now seeing is a mirror of the displays in the White House situation room,” Phyllis said.
“Can we teleconference with them from here?” Holly asked.
“Yes, from the control panel in the corner or the one at the head of the table. The two large screens at each end of the room will display the situation room. I don’t want to turn them on now, because we would be simultaneously displayed on their screens.”
“And you know how to operate the control panel at this end?”
“I and my assistant, Shane, are qualified. If, for any reason, we should both be unavailable, all you do is flip the master switch here”—she pointed to it—“and the operator at the White House can control this room, as well as his.”
“Thank you, Phyllis.” She looked at her watch. “It’s seven-forty now. I’m expecting the police commissioner and the AIC of the local FBI office and some of their staffers here for a meeting at nine o’clock. Will you let garage security know that they’ll be arriving, and that I’ve given them the code name Red Rose for admittance to the garage? We don’t want a repeat of last week.”
“Certainly.”
“As you’ve no doubt heard, the president has authorized the Agency to operate domestically in terrorism cases for the remainder of his term, and he has asked Congress to make the change to our charter permanent. Who among our personnel here would be best qualified to participate in the search for the bombers?”
“I should think the three section heads in Analysis, Operations, and Technical Services should be present at your meeting. They’ll know best which of their people should be assigned to the investigation.”
“Please invite them and ask them to be present at eight forty-five. I want the room to be fully staffed when the others arrive.”
“Certainly. Chief. You may not be aware, but there is an office suite for the station chief on the top floor which is unoccupied, because we’ve never had a station chief. Since you now hold that position, you might like to move in there. May I show it to you?”
“Thank you, yes.”
They rode the elevator to the top floor of the building, and Phyllis led her to the south end of the hallway and opened one of the pairs of double doors. “Your key works this lock, too,” she said.
Holly walked into a large office suite that spanned the width of the building, including an office, a secretary’s office, a kitchenette, and a conference room.