President Merrick wiped his mouth with the White House napkin, then pushed back on his chair and crossed his legs. He sat at the lone round table in the State Dining Room just below a large portrait of Abraham Lincoln. He engaged Prime Minister Budarry with an authentic smile. Two of Budarry’s aides and Samuel Fisk were the only other guests at the table.
Fisk seemed to sense the impending conversation so he asked one of the aides a personal question about their function while overseas and both aides chimed in on the discussion.
Merrick took the opportunity to gain Budarry’s attention.
“So, Mr. Prime Minister,” Merrick said, “is the United States offering enough support to satisfy the Turkish people?”
Budarry appeared pleasantly surprised to hear Merrick’s comment. Up until then, he’d been sitting rigid and avoiding any conversation regarding politics.
Although theirs was the only table occupied, Budarry eyed the room carefully, then turned his head to speak with Merrick. “Mr. President, we are very grateful for your support. You have been an incredible source of perseverance.”
Merrick smiled and kept a peaceful demeanor. “May I be direct, Mr. Prime Minister?”
“Of course.”
Merrick tilted his head and measured his words. “May I ask how you intend to help alleviate our problems with Barzani and the KSF here in America?”
Budarry leaned toward the President with a gentle smile. “There is an old Turkish proverb which says, ‘A wise man remembers his friends at all times; a fool, only when he has need of them.’”
Merrick glanced at the grandfather clock against the far wall. He had less than five hours before his speech, and possibly a disaster which he might be able to avert. Budarry seemed to sense his concern and touched his arm.
“Mr. President, let me assure you what I’m about to have done will prove that Turkey is one of your greatest allies.”
Merrick raised his eyebrows. “Which means?”
“Which means, I have taken measures, a very risky one in particular, which may cause my nation great vulnerability. But I do it with the promise of continued support from the United States.”
Merrick sipped some of his iced tea and placed his glass down. Did Budarry think removing Turkish troops from Kurdistan was cause for great vulnerability? It was hard to read the Prime Minister and he didn’t want to make any mistakes. He nodded, then turned back to Budarry. “You have no more to offer than those words?”
“I need to be careful of what I speak because it may cause you to be culpable should my military tactic be unsuccessful.”
Merrick was no closer to understanding Budarry’s double talk but knew prying any further wasn’t going to get it done. He took another sip of iced tea and watched the Prime Minister drop his napkin on the table and stand. His two aides followed his lead. Merrick immediately got to his feet.
Budarry reached out his hand and Merrick gave him a firm handshake.
“I want to thank you for your hospitality,” Budarry said. “And please, Mr. President, just be sure to recall this conversation during your speech tonight. You should know by then what all of my mysterious words mean.”
As Merrick watched the Prime Minister leave, he sensed Fisk next to him.
“Well?” Fisk asked.
“He gave me nothing but his assurance Turkey is doing something to support us.”
“Shit,” Fisk muttered. “That and four bucks will get you a Frappuccino at Starbucks.”
Merrick stood there thinking of the weight of his decision to stand tall and act tough. Knowing he could be causing unnecessary deaths.
“Look at me,” Fisk said.
Merrick faced his childhood friend.
Fisk glared at him. “Whatever you think might happen after your speech tonight, it’s nothing compared to what’ll happen if you announce a troop reduction in Turkey. Terrorists around the globe will be picking up American tourists and holding them hostage until you agree to negotiate their safe return.”
Fisk must’ve seen Merrick’s eyes fade out into the imaginary world of what-ifs and he grabbed him by the shoulders and got up in his face.
“Don’t even think about opening up that can of worms, John. Not while I’m still breathing.”
Merrick frowned. “I wish I had your conscience, Sam. I’d sleep a lot better at night.”
“I’ll lend it to you anytime you’d like. Just make sure you have it with you during that speech.”
Merrick nodded absently. At that very moment he was still not certain what he was going to say to the nation in a few hours. He patted Fisk’s hand and smiled, “Don’t worry, Sam. I’ll make the right move when it’s necessary.”
Nick sat behind his desk with a large map of Arizona stretched out in front of him. Walt Jackson sat next to him viewing satellite images on his computer screen. They’d been there since before sunrise. Matt was still at the hospital with Jennifer Steele.
Walt looked down to check a text message on his phone, then said, “The dogs just picked up Semtex near Hoover Dam. That make you happy or sad?”
Nick’s eyes were getting blurry from lack of sleep and staring too long at the map. “Normally I don’t like finding what I’m looking for, exactly where I’m looking for it, but I’m neutral on this one.”
They were alone in his inner office, but just outside the door were two armed military police guarding the door, plus a dozen soldiers fielding calls along with FBI agents and Stevie Gilpin working his magic with his high-tech equipment. Arizona was now completely saturated with National Guard, government agents and police. The manhunt for Barzani was in full force and Nick’s office was the nerve center for the operation.
Nick looked up at the clock. “Four hours,” he said.
“Uh huh,” Walt replied. He pointed a finger at the computer screen, “You see that?”
“What?”
“There’s a path just east of the dam with recent off-road activity.”
“Could be anything.”
Walt shoved the mouse away and leaned back in the chair. He rubbed his eyes and yawned. “I don’t know, Nick. I’m thinking it’s the dam.”
Nick pushed a button on his office phone. “Stevie,” he said. “Get in here.”
A moment later the door opened and Stevie Gilpin came bustling in.
“What’s up?” he asked.
Nick tapped his pen on the desk. “Stevie, tell me exactly how much moisture you found and how significant it was compared to someone who walked in a mud puddle.”
The tech specialist seemed to understand the question. “Okay, well, Semir’s shoes had significant amounts of chlorine and moisture. When I say moisture I mean saturated H2O. This type of fresh water is found primarily around lakes, rivers and streams. There’s very little chance this concentration of moisture was the result of recent rainfall. The molecular structure just doesn’t match up.”
Nick and Walt were sitting back now, hands in their laps, like they were listening to a good bedtime story.
“And the two guys you scraped from the cabin last night?” Nick asked.
“The same,” Stevie said. “The samples I took from their shoes were identical to Semir’s. Wherever Semir was, they were there within the past seventy-two hours.”
“And you found this on only two of the men’s shoes?” Walt asked.
“Yes. And one other thing. I sent samples to Phoenix just to verify my results and they came back with even more detail. They’ve also found traces of copper in all three of their shoes.”
“Copper?” Nick said.
“Yes.”
Nick looked to his right and caught Walt’s shrug.
“Not sure what that means,” Walt said.
“There’s some copper mines in the area,” Nick said. “Maybe that’s where they’ve kept the Semtex.”
“It’s possible,” Walt said. “What’s the name of the power company which handles the dams in the area?”
“Salt River Project,” Nick said, then considered the question. “I like where you’re going.” He looked at Stevie. “Get a high end SRP engineer over here as soon as possible. Tell them it’s a matter of national security.”
“Got it,” Stevie said, then shut the door behind him.
Nick stood up and smoothed out the paper map with his one good hand. He’d had every federal building protected, every national park. “No matter how much I look at this map, I just can’t find anything which could cause significant damage with a large amount of Semtex. A building, yes. A park, sure. But there are no sporting events or large concerts scheduled for today. Everything points to Palo Verde or Hoover Dam.”
Walt nodded. “Agreed. That’s why I’m taking the helicopter up to the dam.”
“Then, I’m going with you,” Nick said.
“No,” Walt held up his hand. “I need you right here controlling things. As information comes in, I need you here to analyze it and react.”
“But-”
“No!” Walt bellowed. He stood and tugged up on his pants. He reached down to pick up his laptop, then returned his gaze on Nick. His face softened. “I need you to use your instincts, okay? All this technology just gives us charts and graphs and spreadsheets, but I need you here to decipher what all of it means.”
Nick looked down at the map. “I don’t know, Walt. My instincts got five good men killed last night.”
Walt pointed a long, thick index finger at him. “Don’t you dare,” he growled. “Barzani is an animal, but to anticipate he’d sacrifice his entire team of loyal soldiers is insane. You did exactly what any-”
There was a quick knock, then the door opened. A field agent from Phoenix stuck his head in. “Someone just found a dead body in some bushes outside of a condominium complex about three miles from here. It doesn’t fit Barzani’s description.”
“Send Tompkins,” Nick said. “And have him take a couple of people with him to canvass the area.”
The door shut. Nick and Walt looked at each other. There wasn’t much more to say. They both wanted the same thing and neither one had any more insight than the other.
“I’m leaving,” Walt said. As he headed toward the door, he pointed to his temple. “Use it,” he said.
President Merrick drummed his fingers on the Oval Office desk and listened to the discussion going on in the War Room via speakerphone. With him were Fisk, Himes, Vice President Gregory Hearns and his main speechwriter, Chester Grant.
Grant was scribbling notes on a legal pad while everyone else was engaged in the ongoing flow of communications with the basement full of intelligence officers.
Lynn Harding was just finishing the latest update on the security of Palo Verde Nuclear Power Plant and Hoover Dam in Arizona.
“So there’s no chance of a nuclear incident, correct?” Merrick asked.
A delay always seemed to occur whenever the President wanted definite answers.
“Sir,” FBI Director Louis Dutton said over the speakerphone. “We can’t deal in absolutes here, but if you’re asking if Palo Verde is secure, the answer is yes.”
Merrick shook his head. “Come on, Louis, give me something I can grab on to. What are the chances of an incident occurring there tonight?”
“With everything we know about Barzani’s manpower, or lack of manpower, plus the amount of security being applied, I would say you would have a better chance of getting hit by lightning.”
Fisk let out a nasty chuckle.
Merrick placed his hands over his eyes and moaned. “Thanks for the analogy, Louis, however, I’ve already been hit by lightning before.”
“Not tonight you haven’t,” Dutton recovered quickly.
Merrick stood and looked out the window, his hands clasped behind his back. The room was quiet, while muted conversations drifted over the speakerphone. A tone of excitement bubbled up from the periphery of the conversations. The words “fighter jets” became audible.
Merrick turned and leaned over the dome-shaped speaker on his desk. “What about fighters?” he asked.
CIA Director Ken Morris spoke. “Sir, Turkey has just deployed a squad of fighter jets over western Kurdistan. They’re currently in a surveillance formation, but that’s how most of their missions begin.”
“What does this mean?”
“We don’t know, Sir. Not yet anyway. We’ll continue to monitor.”
Merrick returned to the window. His back to the room. “Any thoughts?” he said to his assembly.
“Sounds like Budarry might be ready to bomb Kurdistan,” Vice President Hearns said.
“Not a chance,” Fisk said and left it there.
“Why not, Sam?” Merrick asked over his shoulder.
“Because you’re about to offer your unilateral support for the Turkish people and a killing campaign wouldn’t exactly make him look like a team player. He’s neurotic, but he’s not stupid.”
Merrick nodded.
“Sir,” Morris said, over the speaker, “now there’s a small unit of Turkish soldiers heading down a road toward Karliova. This is the city where the KSF headquarters is located, it’s also Temir Barzani’s hometown. It’s where his family still resides.”
“Small unit?” Merrick asked.
“One tank, followed by one truck. The truck is a large transport vehicle covered with a canvas top. Many times used to move troops. However, it is large enough to carry a short-range missile.”
“Shit,” Merrick said, rubbing his chin. “What is he doing?”
“It could be his way of warning Barzani not to implement a terrorist attack on American soil,” Morris said. “He might’ve sent a threat directly to the KSF. The fighters could be there to pave the way for their attack.”
“Would he do that?” Merrick asked. “Would that work? Would that stop Barzani from detonating a bomb?”
Silence.
“We’re not sure, Sir,” came a voice Merrick couldn’t distinguish.
“I’ll bet I know who could answer that,” Fisk said.
Merrick looked at Fisk and immediately knew who he was referring to. He bent over and pushed a button on the phone. “Rose,” he said. “Get me Nick Bracco.”