Authors: Stuart Woods
“That’s the idea,” Jasmine said.
Jasmine woke up having discovered and, perhaps, solved a problem while she slept. She showered and dressed and walked into the living room, where Habib was having breakfast.
“I like the short haircut,” she said, joining him at the table and helping herself to the food.
“So do I,” Habib replied, running his fingers over his smooth face. “I don’t know why I didn’t do this sooner.”
“It’s a good thing you waited,” she said. “Made it easier to make a big change in your appearance.”
“I expect you’re right.”
“I thought about the Turtle Bay house last night,” she said.
“And?”
“We have to rethink it.”
“Why?”
“The way it’s set up now, we have to kill the two guards in the SUV out front, which may not be as easy as we think.” She held up a hand to stop him before she was interrupted. “And then we have to get the downstairs office door open quickly, which also may not be as easy as we think, and then we need to set up the device inside, run, then detonate it.”
“So?”
“Houses like that come with security systems, perhaps even very elaborate security systems. What does this guy Barrington do?”
“He has a cover as a lawyer, but he’s CIA.”
“How do you know that?”
“Because the assistant director of the CIA is living there with him.”
“Habib, did it ever occur to you that they may just be fucking?”
Habib stopped eating. “No,” he said. “A prominent woman like that?”
“Your thinking is very old-fashioned,” Jasmine said. “Prominent women need sex just as much as everyone else.”
“Well, we have a photograph of him entering the CIA office building with her. That says to me that he’s CIA.”
“Okay, so he’s CIA, but that helps make my point. If he is with the Agency, that house is going to be a fortress. Look at what happened when we tried to blow up the CIA building—almost nothing.”
“Do you have a solution to this problem?”
“How much of the plastique do we have left after the other two explosives?”
“A little over a hundred kilos.”
“That’s about two hundred and fifty pounds.”
“Yes, enough for many more jobs. We used only a kilo on the restaurant explosion.”
“Then we’ll use all of it for the Turtle Bay job.”
Habib’s jaw dropped. “Are you serious?”
“Entirely. How do we move it?”
“In a van. It’s in one-kilo blocks. We’d pack them into boxes holding about ten kilos and stack them together.”
“How do we detonate them all at once?”
“The detonators we have will set off a kilo block, then the resulting shock and heat from that explosion would be more than sufficient to set off the whole lot. It would happen so fast as to seem like one huge explosion.”
“And we can set off the one-kilo explosion with a cell phone?”
“Correct. The small electrical charge is enough to set off the blasting cap or detonator, which sets off the plastique.”
“I see.”
“Do you? I mean, do you have any idea what a hundred kilos of that stuff will do?”
“A very great deal, I should think.”
“It will take out not only Barrington’s house but at least half the houses in the block. Maybe
all
the houses in the block. The fireball created would set anything standing on fire.”
“How do we get it in place?”
“We drive a van into the block, already loaded and prepared, then we retreat several blocks away and call the number of the cell phone connected to the detonator.”
“Or we have a suicide bomber do it.”
“I’m not sure that the people available to us can be trusted to go through with it.”
“The others did it.”
“We used the best candidates first.”
“All right, we don’t need them, we’ll do it ourselves.”
“It’s entirely possible,” Habib said.
“We set it off from our escape car, then we head west.”
“All right,” Habib said.
“You still sound doubtful.”
“It’s just that I’ve never made and detonated a bomb this big before.”
“The bigger the bomb, the bigger the effect,” she said.
“If you like.”
Jasmine smiled. “I like.”
Lance Cabot stood on the far side of the Oval Office from the president’s desk and listened as he made his address to the nation. Once again, he was impressed at how Will Lee could project informality and sincerity in a talk on television. The president always spoke perfect standard English but still managed to engender an intimacy with his audience. Lance noted that there was no teleprompter present. Finally, he said good night, and a moment later the lights were turned off and the crew began removing equipment from the large room.
Kate Lee, who had been standing closer to her husband, in the doorway to his secretary’s office, walked over, kissed him on the lips, and whispered a few words in his ear, then the two of them, holding hands, walked across the room to where Lance stood.
“That was a remarkable job, Mr. President,” Lance said, offering his hand.
“Thank you, Lance. Hungry?”
“Yes, sir.”
“Then let’s head up to the quarters.”
“After you, sir.” Lance followed them out of the Oval Office and to the elevator. Once in the living room of the quarters, the president shucked off his jacket, and Lance was surprised to see that his shirt was soaked through with sweat.
“Let me slip into something more comfortable, and I’ll be right back,” the president said, then left the room.
“Let me get you a drink, Lance,” Kate said. “We’ll be having one.”
“A scotch on the rocks would be welcome, ma’am.”
“A blend or a single malt? We have, let’s see, Laphroaig and Glenfiddich.”
“The Laphroaig would be just fine.”
Kate poured the drink, then poured two bourbons and handed Lance his drink. “You’re not married, are you, Lance? How come?”
“Oh, I’ve had a couple of close brushes, but I’ve managed to stay out of serious trouble.”
Kate laughed. “That’s what Will used to say before I got him into serious trouble. Got a girl? Or a boyfriend?”
“A girlfriend. She lives with me most of the time.”
“Good for you. By the way, I was kidding about the boyfriend.”
“I know, ma’am.” She liked to needle him once in a while.
The president returned to the living room wearing khakis, a sport shirt, and loafers, then accepted the drink from his wife. “That’s better,” he said, sipping the bourbon. “I allow myself one before dinner. You never know when I might have to make a complicated decision.” He waved Lance to a chair. “Make yourself comfortable, Lance. Dinner will be another half an hour.”
Lance slipped into a soft armchair, and the first couple sat on the sofa facing him. He noticed that they sat close together rather than at opposite ends. It was the first time he had dined in the family quarters, and he was surprised how at ease they were with each other.
Kate poked Will in the ribs. “Speak,” she said.
“Oh, yes, I almost forgot—must be the bourbon. Lance, I’ve decided to appoint you director of Central Intelligence.”
Lance nearly dropped his drink. He had thought this might be an interview, but he hadn’t expected an outright offer. This meant that Kate must be stepping down. “I accept, Mr. President, with gratitude.”
“Good. Got that out of the way. Your turn, sweetheart.”
“Here’s how it’s going to go,” Kate said. “First, we have to get this Jasmine thing out of the way. When that’s done, I’ll resign, and Will will appoint you. He’ll announce the two things simultaneously in a small ceremony in the White House briefing room, on live TV.”
Lance nodded. “Yes, I should think you’d want Jasmine behind you before you step down.” He wanted it that way, too; he definitely did not wish to inherit that problem.
The president spoke up again. “I’ve spoken with Senator Jeff Barnes, whom you know from your occasional testimony before the Senate Select Committee on Intelligence, and he sees no obstacle to a smooth confirmation process. By appointing a career professional we take politics out of the equation, so there should be little if any opposition from across the aisle. And, of course, we need only Senate confirmation.”
“I understand, sir.”
“Both Kate and I admire the way you’ve conducted yourself since becoming deputy director for operations,” the president said, “and I mean that as much for how you’ve dealt with Senator Barnes and his committee as for the operations you’ve conducted. The committee is well versed in how you’ve handled that part of your job, and because virtually everything you’ve done is classified, there won’t be any public testimony. I expect questioning will be mostly on what sort of future you see for the Agency, especially the new domestic part of it. You and Senator Barnes will have an opportunity to talk in depth about that, and I think you would be wise to incorporate some of his views into your testimony.”
“That shouldn’t be difficult,” Lance said, “since the senator and I don’t have any serious disagreements on policy. We’ll need a considerable expansion, though, if our charter is changed.”
“Yes, and you might give some thought to exactly how you want to expand. You and Kate can spend some time on that.”
“Yes, sir. I will value her advice, of course.”
“Thank you, Lance,” Kate said, smiling. “I wouldn’t have expected you to say anything else. Do you have any immediate thoughts?”
“Well,” Lance said, “I think I would like to make Holly Barker’s appointment as New York station chief permanent. I think she’s perfect for it.”
“I agree entirely,” Kate said.
“I had thought of sending her to London after the trouble there, but her recommendation for the replacement there was perfectly considered, and I was glad to accept her judgment.”
“I’ve often thought that Holly’s coming to us later in life than usual, after her military and police background, gave her better judgment than we’re accustomed to in recruits.”
“I entirely agree,” Lance said. “She has always been solid on that score, and she’s a good judge of people, too. That will serve her well in New York.”
“You have to understand, Lance, that if things go badly in New York, everything could change.”
“I can see how that might affect things,” Lance replied.
“It’s better that I be here to take the blame, if things go south,” Kate said. “I think that will help protect your appointment.”
A butler came into the room and announced dinner.
“Of course, this is all just between us and Senator Barnes, until we’re ready to move,” the president said.
“I understand, sir. I would like your permission to tell Holly about it.”
“That’s a good idea, Will,” Kate said.
“I agree,” the president said, and they went in to dinner.
Lance took some deep breaths and tried to calm himself. His brain was bursting with what he wanted to do in the job.
The phone at Stone’s bedside was ringing when they entered his bedroom. “Hello.”
“It’s Dino, pal. How you doing?”
“Hey, buddy, how was the Bahamas?”
“Terrific,” Dino said. “Place called The Albany, on New Providence. Lap of luxury.”
“You deserve it. How did Viv like the place?”
“She wants to live there.”