Page 54 of Air Force One
Then they showed tugboats nudging it into a massive dry dock. “They didn’t say. But by the timing? That’s a fair guess.”
Elizabeth too watched the monitor as it showed the USCG cutter being nudged into another dry dock. Its rear deck was clearly still covered with neat rows of body bags. The weather and all the drones cluttering the airspace had been deemed too rough to safely fly them back to land. That would include Drake.
Taz didn’t know what to say, so she kept her mouth shut.
Finally, Elizabeth picked up the phone. “Felicia. Could you ask the President for five minutes of her time? And could you send Kali and a team to escort three civilians from the Old Ebbitt Grill’s bar to the Situation Room? I expect three Chinese women together will be fairly easy to spot. They’re unofficial, so make it very low profile and bring them in through the Treasury Building.”
Then Elizabeth turned her back on the monitor and faced Taz. “Tell me a funny Miranda story. I need something to smile about today.”
There were so many, the trouble was choosing one. “Well…I remember this time that Drake told Miranda to search to the ends of the Earth if needed to solve a crash. But the Earth doesn’t have ends, Drake. And she led him round and round in circles of logic including the history of mapmaking back to the flat-Earth days and possible interpretations of the saying perhaps being rooted in the fact that the Earth isn’t a sphere but rather an oblate spheroid. None of us could believe it was happening as they went on and on. But I swear the general was having a great time discussing geopolitical history, geomorphology, and whether or not an idiomatic saying was required to be inherently foolish or merely must possess internally illogical reasoning.”
Elizabeth smiled, she didn’t laugh, but she smiled. Under the circumstances, Taz counted it as one of the best things she’d done since giving birth to Davito. Elizabeth then told her how the first time she and Drake had slept together had been largely Miranda’s fault for almost crash-landing her jet on the National Mall in front of the White House.
47
“Sorry for keeping you waiting. It’s been a busy morning.” It was Sarah’s first trip to the Situation Room as President. It would have been nice if it hadn’t been needed for, oh, another four years. No such luck.
“It’s afternoon.” Elizabeth smiled after they’d all jolted to their feet at her entry. She wasn’t used to that either.
Kali, as head of her protection detail, had refused to let Sarah meet with three unknowns without a guard. She positioned herself just off Sarah’s right shoulder.
“Right,” Sarah headed for the seat at the right of the table, but Kali was in the way. Kali pointed her to the chair at the head of the table. Deep breath. I am the President. And she sat in Roy Cole’s Situation Room chair for the first time. He was right, not comfortable at all despite the nice padding. It was also set for someone with much longer legs and she had to lower it.
She waved everyone else to sit. “And I know it’s afternoon because I had a long, leisurely lunch during which nothing happened anywhere in the world for, oh, at least thirty-five seconds. Oh wait, that never happened.” She tapped the intercom. “Could you have someone get me a sandwich, I don’t care what, and a coke on ice, no sugar, no caffeine. Thanks.” The exchange also gave her a moment to assess. If anyone had tried to prep her on the meeting, she’d missed it. She’d been President for about thirty hours and was sure she’d eaten, slept, and had bodily functions—though she couldn’t recall any of the above. The small Latina in the Air Force colonel’s uniform looked familiar but she couldn’t place her.
She must have read Sarah’s look. “Right here in this room, ma’am. Three years ago while you were still the National Security Advisor. I’m Colonel Vicki Taz Cortez. We met during a…” she glanced at the room’s three unknown occupants, “…not wholly dissimilar situation. I’m also a part of Miranda Chase’s team. Or perhaps an offshoot of her team now.”
“I remember. Thank you. And I assume that I’m here to meet your companions.” Not wholly dissimilar. Trouble with the Chinese—no, with China’s Central Military Commission. Shit! The last time it had cost a half-billion dollars to repair an aircraft carrier and only narrowly averted a war. This was only her second day on the job. And Roy had worried about her getting too comfortable in his chair? She was calling bullshit on that one.
Taz introduced them.
“I know of Ms. Wang.” There was one of those thin files on her. Her years as National Security Advisor had taught her how to read those. Some were thin because the person was barely of sufficient interest to justify a file at all. And others were thin because so little was known of them. Wang Daiyu’s file read like someone who lived in the shadows but always seemed to be nearby when something major happened. The near disaster in Antarctica for one. Oh, and Colonel Cortez’s tangential reminder—perhaps the aircraft carrier as well.
“We,” Mei-Li, the smaller of the two young women, indicated herself and Mui, “Um, have worked with Taz once before. And Jeremy. President Cole and the two General Drakes were nice enough to expedite our citizenship for, uh, services rendered.”
A glance at Elizabeth verified this. “It would have been before your time, ma’am.”
“Then you’ll have to explain it to me, at some other less-pressing time. So why am I here?”
There was a discreet knock. Kali let someone in. A sandwich, chips, a side salad, a brownie, and her Coke were all delivered. All she wanted was a sandwich and a soda, but they hadn’t learned that about her yet. Or perhaps some rogue dietician was lurking about the White House watching for crimes against healthy fare. Pastrami on caraway seed rye with stone ground mustard. At least they’d let that through.
Once Kali closed the door, both of the younger Chinese looked at Wang Daiyu. Now they were getting somewhere past the groundwork. Elizabeth to Taz to two young naturalized Chinese women and finally on to…whatever Ms. Wang was.
Daiyu nodded before turning to face her directly. “I am here for three reasons, ma’am. The last may lose meaning after answers coming to the second.”
“Then let’s get Number One out of the way.”
She nodded. “The President, the President of the People’s Republic of China that is, has chosen a wait-and-see approach to discussing possible Chinese involvement in recent events.” Daiyu waved her hand toward the monitor, which kept showing new angles of the slow process happening at Norfolk Dry Dock 8. “He has forbidden use of any diplomatic channels for messaging at this time.”
Sarah wished she was eating the damn salad. At least that wouldn’t go so sour in her stomach.
“General Liú Zuocheng and I have investigated this matter at every level we could do so in the time available. I am here personally to assure you that we can find no evidence of China’s participation in these tragic events.”
That stopped her. “How sure can you be?”
“General Liú has no thoughts that I do not know. I have made myself as his closest confidant for the last three years.”
That earned her a startled expression from the other two, which said that simple statement meant far more than it sounded.
