Page 115 of Cross Down
“Wait, wait,” the chief says. “Can you tell me what’s going on?”
The colonel says, “No,” and hangs up.
The chief quickly makes two phone calls. The first is to tell the head of dispatch to get orders for Operation Wrangler transmitted to his on-duty officers.
The second is to tell his wife, Tracy, to take the girls out of school and get the hell out of DC.
Chapter
141
Ned says, “Whatabout the Secret Service?”
“What about them?” John says. “Ned, they’re tasked with physically protecting the president,notthe office of the presidency. They’ll keep President Kent safe, but they can’t protect his authority and powers.”
“But Congress—”
John touches another thumb drive. “The leaders of both houses and their deputies will be detained as well.”
“Well, before they start making arrests at the Hoover Building, I can—”
“Ned, you know who’s not on the list? The director of the FBI.”
Ned feels like he’s been punched in the throat.
John looks up at the wall clock in the den. “You’re friends with the mayor, right?”
“Yes, I am. That’s no secret.”
“You’re going to call her.”
“What, use the Metro Police to defend the White House?”
“No, something else,” John says. He turns and looks at the wounded, unconscious Deacon. “I’ll tell you, but we have to make another call first.”
Ned says, “For her?”
“Yes, and quick,” John says. “We have a new enemy—time.”
Chapter
142
General Wayne Grissomwalks out of a rarely used side entrance to the Pentagon and over to his personal armored black Tahoe, idling at the curb. In front of the Tahoe are two white Pentagon Police cruisers, and behind the Tahoe are two black Chevrolet Suburbans carrying members of the Pentagon’s protective service.
Colonel Kendricks opens the rear door for the general, and he nods in appreciation and climbs in, his briefcase in his steady right hand. She comes around to the other side and says, “Don’t forget your seat belt, sir.”
He fastens the seat belt in silence, looks over at one of the world’s largest office buildings, and remembers with a half smile a joke one of his predecessors had allegedly made during a newspaper interview: “How many people work at the Pentagon?” he was asked. “About half” came the wry answer.
Well,he thinks,that’s still pretty true.Over the years, though, he’s quietly located those who do work and who will work in the nation’s interests to follow his orders today.
Simple to do, really. All generals and colonels have staffers and NCOs underneath them who, for the most part, do the real work. They make the phone calls, prepare and write orders and memorandums, and present papers to be signed. So it’s easy to block information from getting to a superior officer or issue orders in that officer’s name.
Happens all the time.
His little procession exits the Pentagon’s parking lot and heads toward the on-ramp that will bring them to I-395. To his left is the massive parking lot for the building, and to the right is a fence and a steep sloping grassy hill leading to the adjacent highways.
Traffic slows as they approach I-395, and he checks his watch, a gift from Janice when he received his first star.
