President Egan takes the call from John Walker.
“Mr. Pres’dent, I need to inform you,” John says, his tone stiff and formal, “that we have satellite ev’dence that five Kilos have gone missin’ from their berths in Bandar Abbas, since just before dawn this mornin’, suh.”
“Shit, this is just what I was afraid was going to happen,” the president replies, throwing formality to the winds. “Why do you think the sixth one’s still there?”
“We don’t really know yet, suh.”
“Thank you for calling, John. I’ll take it from here.”
“Admiral Smith, the president is on the line,” says the admiral’s staff secretary.
“Bob, we just got word that five of the six Kilos in Iran have left their berths. I want you to work up how quickly they could make it to our shores.”
“Yes, sir!”
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