"Is there another fort in the area?"
Bock paused to consult his maps. "Yes, an old Legion outpost several kilometers west of the waste project. The very one, in fact, Massarde named his project after."
"Sounds like they intend to hole up there until dark."
"I would do the same if I was in Colonel Levant's place."
"They're going to need help," said Sandecker.
"Precisely the reason for my call to you," said Bock, becoming brisk and businesslike. "You must persuade the President to send an American special forces group to assist in bringing Levant and the freed captives out of General Kazim's territory."
"Did you discuss this with Secretary General Kamil? She carries more weight with the President than I do."
"Unfortunately, she was suddenly called away to an emergency conference in Moscow. You are the only one I can turn to on rush notice."
"How much time have we got?"
"Virtually none. Daylight will come in their part of the desert within two hours."
"I'll do what I can," promised Sandecker. "I only hope the President hasn't gone to bed yet, or I'll pay hell getting his aides to wake him."
"You must be out of your mind, demanding to see the President this time of night," Earl Willover said angrily.
Sandecker looked at the President's Chief of Staff who was neatly attired in a dark double-breasted wool pin stripe that showed only the slightest sign of creases in the pants. Sandecker wondered if the man ever left his office and slept standing up. "Take my word for it, Earl, I wouldn't be here if it wasn't urgent."
"I won't wake the President unless faced with an international crisis that endangers the security of the nation."
So far Sandecker had held his temper in check, but it began to slip away. "All right, tell him there's a taxpaying voter downstairs in the White House office who's mad as hell."
"You are mad."
"Mad enough to charge up to his bedroom and wake him myself."
Willover looked like he was on the verge of a boiling fit. "You try it, and I'll have the Secret Service take you in custody."
"A lot of innocent people, including women and children, are going to die if the President doesn't act."
"I hear that old story every day of the week," Willover sneered.
"And make jokes about the victims, right?"
Willover finally lost it. "You've got an answer for everything, you arrogant anchor-danker. I can break you any time I want to. You understand?"
Sandecker moved
close enough to Willover to smell the man's minty breath. "Listen up, Earl. One day the President's term of office will be over and you'll only be another one of the great unwashed public again. Then I will ring your doorbell and tear out your liver."
"I bet you would too," came a familiar voice.
Sandecker and Willover both turned and faced the President who was standing in a doorway in his pajamas and bathrobe. He was nibbling from a plate of canapés he held in one hand.
"I sneaked down for a late snack from the kitchen refrigerator and overheard heated voices." He stared at Sandecker. "Now suppose you tell me what this is all about, Admiral."
Willover stepped in front of Sandecker. "Please sir, it's a matter of little consequence."
"Why don't you let me be the judge of that, Earl. Okay, Admiral, speak your piece."