William Tyree - Line of Succession

Nico sat at the kitchen table hunched over the murdered professor’s computer. He quickly located, on a Ukrainian hacker’s site, an old spyware program called Thor that he had once used for desktop intrusion. Thor was hardly the latest or greatest, but Nico knew it well and figured it would be adequate for resurrecting any files that the 93-year-old professor had deleted.

The screen went blank for a moment, then came back with an image of a hammer squashing a hapless rodent. “Oh the power!” Nico said, shooting his hands up into the air. “You don’t even know!”

Seven seconds later, he spotted something in the professor’s deleted instant message files. “The Professor sent a study pack to someone named Elvir Divac. The address is in Baltimore.”

Carver went to his side. ”How recent?”

“Five months ago. It’s the same address used by another one of the professor’s students. The Hamilton Arms in Baltimore. Apartment 309.”

“Who’s the other guy?”

“Ali Lahari.”

Carver sat down to think, angling his chair so that it faced the door. They would need to go to Baltimore, and they would need plenty of backup. He didn’t dare go to DOD, and Speers was completely AWOL. He would need Eva’s help, but he still couldn’t divulge details of the investigation. Not without Speers’ consent.

“Nico,” Carver said, “Eva just got a brand new dot mil email account for use on base. She’s been using it to boss Madsen’s staff around. How hard would it be to spoof it?”

“So…You’re asking me to forge a military email message in Eva’s name?”

Agent O’Keefe shook her head. “I don’t think that’s what Agent Carver meant.”

“It’s exactly what I meant,” Carver said. “And Eva doesn’t know it yet, but she’s going to thank me later. So can you do it or not?”

Nico smiled. “The Chinese have a saying: If you’re born with fangs, don’t pretend to be a panda.”

Washington D.C.

7:42 p.m. Eastern

Apartment 3C was answered by a woman with a pierced lip and a neck tattoo. Special Agent Rios figured her for a student. Even in this day and age, Washington was too conservative for someone like that to get any sort of real job. Even the President made waves when he dared to work without a suit jacket in the Oval Office.

“You must be Hector,” the woman said. “Come in. I’m Jenna. Haley’s sister.”

Rios stooped his six-foot-ten frame low enough to squeeze under the doorway. The apartment was fully furnished, but only half as nice as he had expected for a woman of Ellis’ position. He had no idea what she made over at NIC. Low six figures at least.

“I’ll tell Haley you’re here,” the sister said. “You want something to drink?”

“No thanks.”

The sister disappeared into the rear of the house. Rios stood in the living room and looked over a collection of books on a shelf. They were mostly political biographies, but there were a few mainstream romances thrown in too. And some sailing books. He and Ellis had lunched together at least fifty times over the past two years. Rios had never heard anything about sailing.

Moments later, Haley Ellis appeared in the kitchen. It was the first time Rios had seen her long raven hair out of a pony tail. He liked the way the wispy ends flared around her shoulders, framing her angular face.

She hugged him like she meant it. Why was it, Rios wondered, that athletic women with curves gave warm, lasting hugs, while skinny women acted as if they were afraid of touching anyone?

“You look awful,” she told him.

“You don’t,” he said.

“Stop!” she said. “Thanks for coming. You want some tea?”

“I’d love some,” he said, “but curfew’s at eight.” He tapped his watch. “Don’t have much time.”

“Curfew?” she said. “Don’t tell me curfew applies to the Secret Service.”

“Those Ulysses guys, they shoot first and run credentials later. Know what I mean? Better to play it safe.”

“Hector, the reason I called…I had a disturbing incident in the NMCC. Just after the attacks. After that we were evacuated from our offices and I’m unable to get onto the network. My entire address book is on that network. I haven’t been able to get hold of anyone. The Director’s still not taking my calls.”

“Join the club,” Rios said. “It’s chaos right now. Agencies are pretty much not doing anything, and that’s across the board. So much for disaster preparedness.”

“So, about the NMCC…The Joint Chiefs were talking about commanding from someplace called Rapture Run.”

Rios looked over Ellis’ shoulder. “Uh, your sister…”

“I rent the back bedroom out to her. She’s back there now. I made her promise to wear her noise-cancelling headphones until after you left.”

Rios smiled. “Never heard of Rapture Run. Probably just a new codename for Site R.”

“That wasn’t all. General Wainewright said — I’m trying to remember the exact words — something like the ‘chain of command is not intact.’”

Rios’ expression did not change, but his voice shifted lower. “What else did the General say?”

“They were suppressing casualty information.”

Rios considered this for a moment. “Back to the chain of command. It might not mean what you think it means. A chain of command can be considered less than intact just because communications have broken down.”

She smiled at him. “You lead the President’s personal detail. Don’t tell me you don’t know what’s going on.”

“Look,” he said, “Truth is I didn’t get back to Washington until a few hours ago. The President put me on special assignment. I’m out of the loop.”

“What was the assignment?”

Rios smiled. He liked Haley. He had always liked her. He wanted to tell her — to tell someone, anyone — that he had gunned down two would-be assassins and saved Eva Hudson’s life. And he wanted to tell her that he had not heard from First Team since Sunday morning, and that he had no idea what was going on, and that the President might be dead, and that it scared the hell out of him.

Instead, he would have to make small talk. “Your furniture,” he said as his eyes turned to the living room. “It’s…well…”

“Beneath me,” Ellis said. “I know. I’m saving my money. That’s why I live with my sister, in case you were wondering.”

“What are you saving for?”

“Don’t laugh.”

“I’m going to go now.”

“A boat,” she said. She waited for a reaction, but Rios only listened. “I’d like to quit my job and sail around the world.”

“I saw the books.”

“I’m taking lessons every Saturday.”

“So come with me tonight,” Rios said, an invitation that surprised even him. “I live down at the marina.”

“What?”

“Serious. I live on a boat. A sailboat.”

“Shut up.”

“A thirty-two footer. Are you in?”

“What?”

“You should come with me. What are you gonna do here? You’re locked out of your office. Locked out of the network. It’s not like you’re going to get anything done.” He checked his watch. “Those Ulysses patrols are starting in just a few minutes. So what’s it gonna be? Another night at home with the sister, or a night with ex-Jacksonville Jaguar first round draft pick Hector Rios?”

He blushed, embarrassed by the fact that he had just used his status as an ex-NFL player to seduce Ellis. It wasn’t his style. But maybe it was a sign of how badly he wanted her.

She stared at him for a moment. Sizing him up. The former football player. She had never been with anyone like him. And there had never been a week like this. It was like the world was coming to an end. Or at least her world. She couldn’t remember the last time she had done something just because. Just for her.