“You’re right,” replied Harvath. “I don’t like it. The guy could be anywhere.”
“I’m sorry.”
“It’s not your fault. Thanks for checking into it for me.”
“That’s what friends are for, right? Listen, if you need anything else call me back, but if I’m away from my desk, do me a favor and don’t leave a message, call me on my cell or send me a benign text. Okay? I’m still pretty keen on keeping my job here, and I never know when Big Brother is looking at my communications.”
With those words, a series of tumblers clicked in Harvath’s head. Excited by the idea that had just flashed across his mind, he gripped his cell phone tighter and said, “If I asked you to, could you send a text message to that alphanumeric pager and make it look like it came from the cell phone I liberated from the NYPD?”
“Sure,” replied McCauliff, “but why?”
“Because I think maybe we can make Mohammed come to the mountain.”
Forty-Two
THE WHITE HOUSE
Jack Rutledge looked up as Carolyn Leonard entered his office. “What’s going on?”
“We just got an update from Amanda’s detail agents in New York,” said the Secret Service agent.
“Is she all right?”
“She’s at Beth Israel Hospital now. We’ve got agents en route from the Manhattan field office as we speak.”
“That’s not what I asked, Carolyn. I asked if Amanda’s all right.”
“We don’t know, sir. Apparently she stopped breathing on the way there and Agent Delacorte had to give her mouth-to-mouth.”
“Oh, my God.”
“They’re prepping her for surgery, and we hope to have more information soon.”
“Inform the hospital that I’ll want to talk with the doctors myself as soon as they know something. In fact, Dr. Vennett is somewhere in the building. I want her to be in on the call as well.”
“Yes, sir. I’ll have someone find the Surgeon General right away.”
“Thank you, Carolyn.”
Once she had left the room, the chief of staff said, “Amanda’s a strong woman. She’ll pull through. Don’t worry.”
Rutledge laughed. Don’t worry? How could he not worry? This was his twenty-one-year-old daughter they were talking about, for God’s sake.
Bringing the conversation back to what they’d been discussing when Carolyn Leonard had come in with her update, Charles Anderson asked, “What about Secretary Driehaus?”
“Let him wait. Maybe he’ll get bored and go back to his office.”
“He’s the Secretary of Homeland Security, Mr. President. You can’t not see him.”
“He shouldn’t be here, Chuck, and you know it. Not now. He should be back at DHS running his part of the operation.”
“I agree with you one hundred percent, but the fact is he’s here, and more importantly, the press knows he’s here. If you snub him, it’s going to make people question how well this administration is handling this crisis.”
“Damn it, I don’t have time for this. His visit has nothing to do with this crisis.”
The chief of staff softened his tone and said, “We know that, but as far as he’s concerned it has everything to do with it. Give him three minutes and then I’ll have Rachel buzz with a call from one of our allies. This way he gets to say his piece and won’t be able to claim that you wouldn’t see him.”
“Fine,” said Rutledge. “I’ll do it. But I want you to know that I think this is a mistake.”
“I know you do.”
“Let’s get it over with. Show him in.”
Anderson buzzed the president’s secretary in the outer office and told her they were ready. Ten seconds later, the door to the Oval Office opened and Alan Driehaus walked in.
“Thank you for seeing me, Mr. President,” said Driehaus as he shook the president’s hand.
“Of course, Alan. Please take a seat,” replied Rutledge as he sat back down. “I’ve only got a couple of minutes, so why don’t you tell me what it is you couldn’t address over the phone?”
“I thought I explained myself to Chuck-”
“And I have to be honest with you, Alan. I told Chuck I didn’t think now was the time to be discussing this. Not with everything else happening.”
“I can understand that, Mr. President, but I have several pieces of intelligence which I find quite disturbing.”
“Such as?”
“First of all, I have it on good authority that less than twenty-four hours ago, an agent or agents of the United States government crossed illegally into the sovereign nation of Canada, and then assaulted and kidnapped a guest of that country who had been granted political asylum.”
Rutledge shot his chief of staff a look conveying how angry he was to be having this meeting and then turned back to Driehaus and asked, “Why don’t you tell me who this good authority is that you’re basing this rather serious accusation on?”
“I’d rather not, Mr. President. I’d rather you tell me if it is true or not.”
Rutledge’s rope was very short today, and he was quickly coming to the end of it. Raising his voice, he replied, “How dare you come into this office and make demands of me? In case you’ve forgotten, Alan, I’m the president of the United States, and you work for me.”