By Order of the President (Presidential Agent 1)

“What?” the president asked, incredulously.

“Tell that to the DCI,” Beiderman said. “He even has a visual from a CIA agent down there.”

“I intend to tell the DCI, Fred,” Hall said, pointedly. “But I thought the president should hear it first.”

“Where are you getting your information, Matt? From the Russian?”

“From the Russian, yes, sir. Via Major Castillo. But there’s more, sir.”

“What more?”

“We’ve made . . . I don’t know why I said ‘we.’ I had nothing to do with it. When I heard this first from Castillo, frankly I was as dubious as you, Mr. President, but, then, when I heard everything I became a convert.”

“What ‘everything’?” the president asked, impatiently.

“The Philadelphia police—with the at first somewhat reluctant help of the FBI—have identified the people who stole the airplane. Pevsner said they were Somalians and they are. They were in Philadelphia as mullahs and the counterterrorism people there took their pictures and made a positive ID . . .”

“Made a positive ID of who?” Dr. Natalie Cohen asked, entering the room. “I presume I’m invited to this meeting?”

“You’re invited but you’re probably not going to like it,” the president said.

“Mr. President,” Hall continued, “I’ve got Major Miller and a Philadelphia police counterterrorism officer, Sergeant Schneider, with me. I think maybe if you heard all this from them, it would be better than . . .”

“Bring them on,” the president ordered, impatiently, then asked, “The same Major Miller?”

“Yes, sir. He’s been in Philadelphia . . .”

The president gestured impatiently for Hall to bring them in.

Hall went to the door.

“Mr. President,” the chief of staff said the moment it opened, “you’ve got the Speaker in ten minutes.”

“Stall him,” the president ordered.

“Will you come in, please?” Hall called.

First, Sergeant Betty Schneider and then Major H. Richard Miller, Jr., who was in civilian clothing, entered the Oval Office. Both were visibly nervous.

“Good morning,” Dr. Cohen said, approaching them with her right hand extended. “My name is Natalie Cohen. Thank you for coming. I expect you recognize the president. The gentleman with him is Secretary of Defense Beiderman.”

The president, who had risen from his chair when Cohen came into the office, walked to Betty Schneide

r and put out his hand.

“We’re all anxious to hear what you have to tell us,” he said with a warm smile, and added, as he gave his hand to Miller, “what the both of you have to tell us. And I’ve been anxious to meet you, Major.”

Both said, “Yes, sir.”

“You take it, Betty,” Miller ordered. “I’ll fill in.”

“I’m very sorry but I have to go to the restroom,” Betty Schneider said. “Right now.”

“Just come with me, dear,” Dr. Cohen said and led her through a door.

In under a minute, the national security advisor was back. “Nobody thinks that’s funny, right?” she challenged. “Good. Okay, Major, you’re up.”

Miller exhaled audibly. “I’ll take it from the top,” he began. “From the beginning, we thought there might be a Philadelphia connection. It came together one piece at a time, starting with the fact that the 727 is owned by Lease-Aire in Philadelphia. And then Castillo’s Russian told him in Vienna ..."