22
T MINUS 120
GREYSTONE
Everything went into slow motion. Greystone became laser-focused, and he started ticking off each action-item in sequence.
“Two hours,” he said.
“But the Day of Destruction isn’t for?—”
He placed his hands on her shoulders, stared into her eyes. “It’s now, Austin.”
“Ohgod,” she whispered.
“We got this.”
She glanced toward the bombs, then turned back to him. “Let’s walk and talk.”
They hurried out, he pulled the door shut behind them, locked it, and strode toward the exit. He discussed next steps like he was firing off a grocery list, telling her what he was doing and what he wanted her to do.
“It feels overwhelming,” she said as theyexited the building.
“It’s no different from getting me out of a country alive,” he said.
They stood on the sidewalk outside the building. It was five o’clock in the morning. Early-bird commuters were slowly making their way to work, but within hours, the city would be clogged with workers.
With their rough plan in place, she made her first call.
Addison answered, her voice on speaker. “We’re at Langley and we just found a men’s restroom that’s out of order and locked.”
Caroline told her what they’d found.
“We’re shooting out the lock,” Addison said.
Greystone called Evelyn Baker.
“Hello, dear,” Evelyn answered. “You’re up early.”
“Are you at the White House?”
“Hawk removed one of the mirrors,” Addison said. “There’s a bomb with less than two hours on the timer.”
“No, I’m still at home,” Evelyn replied.
“We found the bombs,” Greystone said, “and they’re scheduled to detonate in two hours. Get the President on the line and call me back.”
Evelyn hung up. Greystone focused his full attention on Caroline.
“We’re out,” Addison said.
Caroline hung up, called Dakota. “We found the bombs and have less than two hours before they detonate.”
Greystone’s phone rang. “It’s Evelyn.” He answered, put the call on speaker.
“Greystone, Mr. President,” Evelyn said.
Within fifteen seconds, Greystone had brought him up to speed. “Mr. President, you need to leave the White House.”