Hazardous Duty (Presidential Agent 8)

“I really hope to be there, sir, but there’s no telling how long this job will take.

“Yes, sir. Thank you, sir. My regards to Mrs. McFadden.”

Naylor handed the telephone back through the opening in the bulletproof glass. Then he saw the look on Colonel Freedman’s face and took pity on him.

“General McFadden’s wife,” he explained, “is raising money for the Parent–Teacher’s Association by running Las Vegas Night at the VFW Hall in Tampa. In addition to my other duties, I’m the de facto president of the school board. The chaplain, who thinks gambling is a sin, even for a good cause, has been giving us trouble, and the general was a little worried. I was able to put his concerns to rest.”

“Yes, of course you were,” Colonel Freedman said. “Now, about this Top Secret Message you want to transmit?”

“I’d prefer to get into that, sir, in a secure environment, sir.”

“Yes, of course you would. I can’t imagine what I was thinking,” Colonel Freedman said. “Sergeant, unlock the door.”

“Colonel, he’s still got his cell phone.”

“What cell phone?”

“The one in his pocket, sir. The one he said I’d have to pry from his cold dead fingers.”

“Just push the button and unlock the damned door, damn it!”

There was a buzz, and the door to the interior of the building swung open. Freedman led Naylor to an elevator, which took them to the top story of the building. The commo center was behind two locked steel doors that were about in the middle of the corridor.

There was an American man on duty, visibly surprised to see the Defense attaché there after duty hours and wearing his spectacular mess dress uniform.

“The colonel has a message to send—”

“Encrypt and send,” Naylor corrected him. “And if you don’t mind, I’ll operate the equipment myself. Just get me on the State Department circuit.”

Naylor sat down at the table, and as he waited for the technician to connect him with the State Department took a sheet of paper from his pocket and laid it next to the encryption device keyboard.

When he became aware that Colonel Freedman was trying desperately to sneak a look at the message, Naylor considered laying his hand on it, or turning it over, but in the end handed it to the Defense attaché.

“You’re onto State,” the technician announced.

Naylor waited until Freedman had finished reading, then laid the sheet of paper next to the keyboard again, tripped the ENCRYPT/TRANSMIT lever, and began to type. I

t didn’t take long.

TOP SECRET

URGENT

DUPLICATION FORBIDDEN

TO: POTUS

SUBJECT: CGC

VIA SECRETARY OF STATE

MAKE AVAILABLE (EYES ONLY) TO:

DIRECTOR, CIA

SECRETARY OF DEFENSE

DIRECTOR OF NATIONAL INTELLIGENCE