Vince Flynn - Protect And Defend

When he got to her shoulders he stopped and placed the washcloth in Kennedy’s hand. “I will get you some clothes. Please finish cleaning up. We need to discuss your release.”

Kennedy blinked for the first time in minutes. Her head slowly turned and watched the man leave the room. The door closed behind him and she realized she was alone. Looking down at the white washcloth, she had the strangest feeling that she must have been dreaming. Her eyes moved slowly over her arms, noting the scrapes and bruises. She took the water-soaked cloth and ran it along the inside of her left forearm. The blood and dirt came off. She bit her tongue to make sure this was really happening and upon feeling the pain realized it was. Kennedy stood and draped the blanket over the back of the chair and then set about bathing. She doused herself with handful after handful of water until the blood, dirt, and stench were gone. A good five minutes later there was a knock on the door. Kennedy grabbed the blanket and held it in front of her.

Muhammad entered the room with a towel, a stack of neatly folded clothes and some sandals. He set them down on the chair and said, “Please put these on. We have much to discuss.”

After he left, Kennedy slowly got dressed. The clothes were all slightly too big for her but she was grateful nonetheless. She put on the blue dress pants, brown sweater, black hijab, and finally the sandals. There was another knock on the door and then Muhammad entered carrying a video camera and a tripod. Kennedy was instantly suspicious.

“I am sorry for the behavior of those two animals. They were not raised properly.”

Kennedy only nodded.

The man set the camera down and asked, “How do your clothes fit?”

“Fine.” Kennedy clutched at the hijab.

“Good. Now I have been talking to many people about your release, and I think we have something arranged. The men who took you…I can’t tell you who they are, but they are a nasty lot. More than half of them want to kill you because of what you have done to their country and who you work for. There are a few, however, who think that this is a waste. They are split. Half of them want to torture you and sell the information to the highest bidder and the other half want to ransom you and be done with it. I think I have them convinced to ransom you, but before I can do that they want you to read a statement.”

“What kind of statement?” Kennedy asked in a guarded tone.

“I want to remind you they are only words. Once you are free, you may say whatever you’d like.” The man handed over the sheet of paper and then busied himself with the video camera. “Smile for me, please,” he said as he pressed play.

Kennedy looked down at the double-spaced typed words and began reading. He heart sank with each sentence. Thirty seconds later she was done. She handed the paper back to the man and said, “I can’t read that.”

“Yes, you can.” The man handed the paper back. “All you need to do is read it and you will be free to leave with me.”

“Those are all lies. My country had nothing to do with the destruction of the Isfahan nuclear facility. We did not invade Iraq for oil, and we are not plotting to invade Iran to steal their oil.”

“I am not arguing with you.” The man said with his hands held up. “And when you are set free you can scream from the mountaintops that you were forced to read this statement at gunpoint.”

Kennedy knew there would be no taking it back. There were too many in the Middle East and beyond who thought it was true to begin with. Her reading this prepared speech would be used for decades to come as proof of America’s imperial ways. “I can’t read it.”

“You must, or they will kill you.”

There was something in the way the man said “kill you” that gave Kennedy concern. It occurred to her that the most logical move by her captors would be to kill her after she read the statement. With no denial by Kennedy it would go down as fact. “I’m sorry, but I cannot read that statement.” Kennedy sat down in the chair and folded her hands across her lap.

The man moved with great speed from behind the camera. He slapped Kennedy across the face three times, knocking the hijab off her head. He grabbed a handful of hair and yanked her head back. Looking down at her he yelled, “You have exactly one hour to change your mind, and if your answer is still no, I will leave you to your fate. Do you want that to happen?”

“No,” Kennedy answered.

“Twenty men!” he screamed. “They will line up to rape you for a week straight. Is that what you want?”

“No.”

“Then read the statement.” The man let go of her and handed her the piece of paper again.

Kennedy took it, looked down at the words, and thought of how the tape would be used against her country. She would be considered a traitor. She could never live with herself. Without having to think any further, she opened her hands and let the paper fall to the floor.

The man stepped away from the camera and help up a finger. “You have one hour to reconsider, and if your answer is still no, there is nothing I can do to help you.”

Ted Byrne stayed on the president’s left elbow, matching him step for step, which was not easy, considering he was almost a foot shorter. The debate had been as heated as anything Byrne had ever seen in his nearly twenty-five years of politics. He’d known Josh Alexander since he was a little tyke. Byrne had played high school football for Alexander’s father and had coached for the father after college. When Alexander looked at him with those same dead, serious eyes that his dad used to shoot him when he’d pushed an issue as far as he could, Byrne knew he’d lost the battle. It didn’t help that the majority of the National Security Council, as well as the Joint Chiefs, had sided against him.

Even so, Byrne felt so strongly that the president was making a mistake that he had to give it one more try. “Josh,” he whispered so no one else could hear, “I really think you need to sit on this one for an afternoon. Probably a whole day, but at least an afternoon.”

“Too late, Ted. They’re all up there waiting for me.”

“So give a brief statement like I said. A blanket denial. Then we can send others out to argue the details. Don’t lower yourself to the guy’s level.”

The president hit the steps that led from the basement to the first floor of the West Wing. “I’ve made up my mind.”

“I know you have and that’s why I’m trying to talk you out of it. That’s my job. When you’re about to run off a cliff, I’m supposed to stick out my foot and trip you.”

“I’m not in the mood for any jokes right now.”

“It never hurts to take a breath and collect yourself.”

“And sometimes he who hesitates gets his ass handed to him.” They reached the first-floor landing and the president stopped. A cortège of aides and advisors piled up behind him on the stairs. “If I had the time, we could sit here all afternoon and throw sayings back and forth at each other, but it comes down to this, Ted. If you don’t confront a lie, people will believe it. Now I’m done talking about this. Are you done?”

Byrne hesitated and then reluctantly nodded.

“Good.” The president turned and strode into the White House press room. Secretary Wicka and Secretary England joined him on the small dais, taking up positions behind him, one off each shoulder. The president placed both hands on the edge of the podium and looked out at the reporters and photographers. He made no attempt to hide the fact that he was not happy.

“I’m about to give you a lot of information. The press secretary is preparing briefing books for you. You may pick them up when I’m finished.” The president paused for a moment and consulted an outline that he had written on a piece of paper. “I’m sure by now you’ve all had an opportunity to review President Amatullah’s remarks. I am here to openly refute his two main accusations. The first, that a United States submarine sank the Iranian vessel Sabalan, is an outright lie. The U.S.S. Virginia, a nuclear-powered submarine, was in the vicinity and tracking the Iranian submarine Yusef as it proceeded through the Strait of Hormuz earlier today. The Virginia recorded the Yusef flooding her rear torpedo tubes and firing one torpedo against the Sabalan. That torpedo hit the Sabalan and sunk it. The Virginia reported this incident immediately, and followed the Yusef through the strait and into the Persian Gulf. The Yusef is now on an intercept course with the Eisenhower strike group, as is much of the Iranian navy. I have ordered the strike group to engage and sink any Iranian vessel that attempts to close within fifteen miles of the U.S.S. Eisenhower. I repeat, if any Iranian vessel attempts to close within fifteen miles of the aircraft carrier Eisenhower it will be engaged and sunk.”