Hazardous Duty (Presidential Agent 8)

“What do you mean, ‘and then what’?”

“What does it sound like, General?”

“Well, charges would be drawn up, and then—”

“I meant to the order to seize the airfield.”

“Oh, I see what you me

an. Well, sir, on General McNab’s relief, command would pass to his deputy—”

“Enough!” Natalie Cohen said softly, but with such great intensity that every head around the table turned to her.

“General McNab is not going to be relieved,” she said. “Aside from Frank Lammelle, he’s the only one of you who seems to both comprehend the situation and know what he’s doing.

“Now, I’m going to go around the table and see if there is at least one thing on which we all agree. The question is, ‘Do you believe that the President’s mental state poses a genuine threat to the United States?’ Just that, and I want a simple ‘yes’ or ‘no,’ not a learned, legal hairsplitting. Mr. Attorney General…”

Attorney General Palmer met her eyes for a long moment and then said, “Yes.”

So, one by one, did everyone around the picnic table.

When the last man, General McNab, had spoken, she nodded and said, “Thank you. Now in the same manner, I’m going to ask another question and again want a yes or no answer. The second question is, ‘Do you have a specific course of action you would take if you were in my position, that is, as secretary of State, to keep the President from proceeding with his plan to seize the airfield, which would be an act of war?’ Understand that I am not asking for your opinion about what we should do about the President, just about stopping him from executing his seize-the-airfield plans. And again I’ll start with the attorney general. Mr. Palmer?”

When everyone had answered in the negative, she said, “Thank you,” again, and added, “I am left with no choice but to take whatever action, or actions, I feel are necessary to keep this situation from getting any further out of control. I will accept full responsibility for so doing. The flip side of that coin is that I am not going to ask permission, either individually or as a result of a vote, for what I will do. If this is unsatisfactory to any of you, I will return to Washington and place my resignation on President Clendennen’s desk today. If I hear no objections, I will assume I have your permission to proceed.”

Although several of the men around the picnic table seemed on the verge of objecting, none did.

Director of National Intelligence Ellsworth, however, asked, “May I ask what you plan to do, Madam Secretary?”

She chuckled.

“I’m going to do what President Clendennen said he was going to do. Put the problem before someone who thinks out of the box and see what he has to say.”

“I don’t think I follow you, Madam Secretary,” Ellsworth said.

She didn’t reply, instead taking her CaseyBerry from her attaché case and punching autodial and the loudspeaker button.

“Yes, ma’am, Madam Secretary,” Castillo’s voice came over the line. “And how are you?”

“Colonel, I need you here,” she said.

“Is she talking to Castillo?” FBI Director Schmidt asked incredulously.

“No, ma’am,” Castillo said. “Sorry. The deal I made was I stall You Know Who for as long as it takes, meanwhile staying out of sight, and more importantly out of reach of any claws You Know Who might want to extend toward me.”

“Colonel, I realize that I have no authority to order you to do anything. But if I had that authority, I would.”

“I knew this call would be a disaster when you called me ‘Colonel,’” Castillo said. “What’s happened?”

“If you’re not coming, there’s no point in telling you.”

There was a ten-second—which seemed much longer—pause.

“I’m floating down the Rhine… .”

“So the CaseyBerry tells me.”

“It’ll take me three hours, maybe a little more, to get to the airplane. Andrews?”