President Egan sighs, then picks up his phone and asks Janet to have the chief of staff come to his office.
From the moment she walks through the door, Maria Sterling senses that something is not quite right. “Have a seat, Maria,” the president says gravely. “I need to discuss some things with you before I go down to the Situation Room.”
“Do you want me to go with you after we speak?”
“No, I don’t.”
“Mr. President, may I speak freely?”
“Go ahead. I intend to.”
This is beginning to sound worse every time he opens his mouth, Sterling realizes.
“Maria, I selected you as my chief of staff because I saw in you a dynamic woman with the ability to get things done. Where did I go wrong?”
“I beg your pardon, sir?”
“I’m not in the mood for pussy-footing around. I want to know why you leaked information that ended up in two press releases to Scott Brubaker.”
“Who said I leaked something to the Post?”
“Scott Brubaker did.” The president stares intently at Sterling. “I want to know why you did what you did?”
Oh my God, the asshole couldn’t keep his mouth shut. Sterling’s response is nothing short of confrontational. “You want the contrite version or what I really feel?”
Wednesday, February 24, 2010
Monday, February 22, 2010
Chapter Ninety-Three Same Day in D. C.
“What are you implying, sir?” Brubaker’s face appears genuinely puzzled.
“I’m not implying anything. I asked you a question.”
“Why would I be consorting with agents of our enemies?”
“Interesting you chose the word ‘agent,’ Scott. What do you know about your friend and occasional lover Melanie Jacobs?”
Brubaker’s reaction to this question is much as the president expected: a pro, his expression is immobile, his face as responsive as if it had been carved from granite.
He doesn’t know how to respond, the president thinks. “Take your time Scott, because it better be good. You only get one shot at this.”
“I don’t know what you’re insinuating, Mr. President. We’re good friends and, yes, sometimes lovers when she’s in town. Last I heard that isn’t a crime.”
“You’re right. It isn’t – unless she happens to be an agent of a foreign nation.”
“What? What are you talking about?’
“Well, Scott, it appears that your friend, or lover, or whatever you choose to call her, is an Iranian agent. We have retrieved materials that implicate you as the source of information which she has passed on to her government.”
“This is bullshit,” Brubaker blurts out. “I don’t buy any of this.”
“And I’m not selling, Scott – I’m telling. Now, I really don’t care who you’ve screwed. I just want to know who your sources are that caused Ms. Jacobs to take such an interest in you. If you continue on playing the role of the knight in shining armor for your sources, then I have no other choice but to implicate you in crimes against the United States. Am I making myself clear, Scott?”
The Post reporter who had so confidently walked through the Oval Office door now finds himself facing charges of treason. Brubaker’s mind springs into action. Whoa. Why should I protect the chief of staff and the vice president? They’re the traitors, not me. I really don’t have much of a choice here.
“I’m not implying anything. I asked you a question.”
“Why would I be consorting with agents of our enemies?”
“Interesting you chose the word ‘agent,’ Scott. What do you know about your friend and occasional lover Melanie Jacobs?”
Brubaker’s reaction to this question is much as the president expected: a pro, his expression is immobile, his face as responsive as if it had been carved from granite.
He doesn’t know how to respond, the president thinks. “Take your time Scott, because it better be good. You only get one shot at this.”
“I don’t know what you’re insinuating, Mr. President. We’re good friends and, yes, sometimes lovers when she’s in town. Last I heard that isn’t a crime.”
“You’re right. It isn’t – unless she happens to be an agent of a foreign nation.”
“What? What are you talking about?’
“Well, Scott, it appears that your friend, or lover, or whatever you choose to call her, is an Iranian agent. We have retrieved materials that implicate you as the source of information which she has passed on to her government.”
“This is bullshit,” Brubaker blurts out. “I don’t buy any of this.”
“And I’m not selling, Scott – I’m telling. Now, I really don’t care who you’ve screwed. I just want to know who your sources are that caused Ms. Jacobs to take such an interest in you. If you continue on playing the role of the knight in shining armor for your sources, then I have no other choice but to implicate you in crimes against the United States. Am I making myself clear, Scott?”
The Post reporter who had so confidently walked through the Oval Office door now finds himself facing charges of treason. Brubaker’s mind springs into action. Whoa. Why should I protect the chief of staff and the vice president? They’re the traitors, not me. I really don’t have much of a choice here.
Wednesday, February 17, 2010
Chapter Ninety-Two End of October
Rear Admiral Joseph DeMello, commander of the U.S. Sixth Fleet, signs for the two messages the radioman messenger hands him. He reads first the message sent him by Fleet Admiral Robert Smith. After reviewing the two top secret messages, he asks his staff, “What’s the status of the Kilo we’ve been dogging?”
“The Kilo’s on a slow run continuing towards Israel,” the operations officer replies.
“We’ve just received orders that the U.S. has moved to Condition Red. We are at war with the nation of Iran. Each military group will be receiving its orders. Our orders are to take out the Kilo. I want to do this without a great deal of fanfare. We don’t need to advertise that we have just gone to war. Do we have any boomers following the Kilo?”
“Sir, we have two LA-class boomers ahead of the Kilo at ten thousand yards,” the operations officer speaks up again. “We’ve been anticipating orders of this nature.”
“Instruct them to plot courses to take him out,” the fleet commander says with grim determination. “I want him totaled.”
“What about survivors, sir?”
“If you heard me correctly, you know there will be no survivors.”
“Yes, sir,” the operations officer said.
“The Kilo’s on a slow run continuing towards Israel,” the operations officer replies.
“We’ve just received orders that the U.S. has moved to Condition Red. We are at war with the nation of Iran. Each military group will be receiving its orders. Our orders are to take out the Kilo. I want to do this without a great deal of fanfare. We don’t need to advertise that we have just gone to war. Do we have any boomers following the Kilo?”
“Sir, we have two LA-class boomers ahead of the Kilo at ten thousand yards,” the operations officer speaks up again. “We’ve been anticipating orders of this nature.”
“Instruct them to plot courses to take him out,” the fleet commander says with grim determination. “I want him totaled.”
“What about survivors, sir?”
“If you heard me correctly, you know there will be no survivors.”
“Yes, sir,” the operations officer said.
Monday, February 15, 2010
A Second Barnes & Noble Reading and Signing Scheduled
Joe will be doing a reading and a book signing at Barnes & Noble Bookstore in Nashua NH, on Saturday, May 8th from 3:00 to 5:00 pm. We would love to have you attend.
Chapter Ninety-One Plans Set in Motion
Finally, the president breaks the silence. “Based on the information presented, I think that Iran is trying to put us in a compromising situation. Realizing how much we value life, it’s entirely possible that they may think we’d rather negotiate rather than have our homeland attacked.” The president stops, considers, then continues, almost painfully. “As president, I am bound by the Constitution to protect its shores and its people. However, not at the mercy of people who have no or very little regard for human life.”
The president gets to his feet and faces the group squarely. His voice grows more strident with every word he utters. “Let me make one thing clear. This nation will never go down in defeat. If we must endure being attacked, our casualties will harden us to continue the fight and take it where it belongs. If Iran thinks it can attack this nation, Iran is going to learn a lesson it most probably does not expect. We are going to war as of right now. Admiral Smith and General Bradley, are you able to have your forces deployed where and as we have previously discussed?”
The president gets to his feet and faces the group squarely. His voice grows more strident with every word he utters. “Let me make one thing clear. This nation will never go down in defeat. If we must endure being attacked, our casualties will harden us to continue the fight and take it where it belongs. If Iran thinks it can attack this nation, Iran is going to learn a lesson it most probably does not expect. We are going to war as of right now. Admiral Smith and General Bradley, are you able to have your forces deployed where and as we have previously discussed?”
Thursday, February 11, 2010
Chapter Ninety Convincing Evidence
“Let’s everyone take a seat,” President Egan says. “We have a great deal to cover. John Walker, I’d like you to give everyone a report regarding what NSA has learned recently from Whispering.”
Chairs get shuffled around as the attendees pick spot in which they suppose they’ll be comfortable; they all expect this meeting to be a hard one. As they look around the table at each other, taking mental inventory of the players today, they can’t help but notice the absence of both the vice president and the chief of staff. Their expressions range from puzzled to dubious.
John Walker begins. “Okay, folks, ’round 2400 hours Atlantic time last night, Project Whisperin’ picked up a communication intended for the five Kilo subs. Basically it told them they were to proceed to a position two hun’red miles from their targets and that they were to be there in three days. The message went on to say that at 2400 hours Greenwich Mean Time on the fourth day from today, they were to execute their ordahs. We’re ’sumin’ that each sub received its ordahs when they set sail and already know what their ordahs are. The communication said they should acknowledge receipt of this ordah by merely sending a one-word reply, presumably so’s not to reveal their positions. Which I gotta admit worked – we weren’t able to locate any of ’em by their responses. They were then told not to communicate with Iran ’til they were at least two thousand miles – I repeat, two thousand miles from their targets.”
Admiral Smith speaks, “That tells me they expect to pull off this attack, and want their vessels somewhere safe enough from retaliation for use another day.”
President Egan’s eyes roam the room, watching for signs that someone has something to be say. Seeing none, he says, “John, go on. I know you have more.”
Chairs get shuffled around as the attendees pick spot in which they suppose they’ll be comfortable; they all expect this meeting to be a hard one. As they look around the table at each other, taking mental inventory of the players today, they can’t help but notice the absence of both the vice president and the chief of staff. Their expressions range from puzzled to dubious.
John Walker begins. “Okay, folks, ’round 2400 hours Atlantic time last night, Project Whisperin’ picked up a communication intended for the five Kilo subs. Basically it told them they were to proceed to a position two hun’red miles from their targets and that they were to be there in three days. The message went on to say that at 2400 hours Greenwich Mean Time on the fourth day from today, they were to execute their ordahs. We’re ’sumin’ that each sub received its ordahs when they set sail and already know what their ordahs are. The communication said they should acknowledge receipt of this ordah by merely sending a one-word reply, presumably so’s not to reveal their positions. Which I gotta admit worked – we weren’t able to locate any of ’em by their responses. They were then told not to communicate with Iran ’til they were at least two thousand miles – I repeat, two thousand miles from their targets.”
Admiral Smith speaks, “That tells me they expect to pull off this attack, and want their vessels somewhere safe enough from retaliation for use another day.”
President Egan’s eyes roam the room, watching for signs that someone has something to be say. Seeing none, he says, “John, go on. I know you have more.”
Monday, February 8, 2010
Chapter Eighty-Nine The First of Four Days
At 2400 hours Atlantic Time, 2000 hours Pacific Time and 0600 hours when the sun has risen over Israel, each Kilo raises its periscope to check the surface and then raises their radio masts to receive their orders. The orders come in exactly on time.
TO KILOS 101 THROUGH 105―PROCEED TO A DISTANCE OF 300 KMS FROM YOUR TARGETS―TAKE 3 DAYS TO ARRIVE THERE―ON THE 4TH DAY AT 2400 HOURS GMT YOU ARE TO EXECUTE YOUR ORDERS―ACKNOWLEDGE RECEIVING THIS BY SENDING ONE WORD ONLY (UNDERSTOOD)―DO NOT TRANSMIT ANY FURTHER COMMUNICATION UNLESS YOU ARE AT LEAST 3000 KMS FROM YOUR TARGETS―
All five Kilos transmit their UNDERSTOODs.
TO KILOS 101 THROUGH 105―PROCEED TO A DISTANCE OF 300 KMS FROM YOUR TARGETS―TAKE 3 DAYS TO ARRIVE THERE―ON THE 4TH DAY AT 2400 HOURS GMT YOU ARE TO EXECUTE YOUR ORDERS―ACKNOWLEDGE RECEIVING THIS BY SENDING ONE WORD ONLY (UNDERSTOOD)―DO NOT TRANSMIT ANY FURTHER COMMUNICATION UNLESS YOU ARE AT LEAST 3000 KMS FROM YOUR TARGETS―
All five Kilos transmit their UNDERSTOODs.
Thursday, February 4, 2010
Chapter Eighty-Eight Changing Tactics
Admiral Smith picks up his satellite phone to the fleet and calls out to Vice-Admiral Kevin O’Rourke. “Kevin, what kind of success are your two squadrons having finding the Kilos they’re trailing?”
“They’re reporting only intermittent success so far, sir, I regret to say,” he says.
“No, that’s okay. I want you to pull both squadrons back to the lines in the previous message I just sent you. Concentrating the greater number of vessels and planes we can there will give us a better chance of finding them.”
“You’re saying you just want us to break off as if we quit looking for them?” O’Rourke questions.
“That’s exactly what I want you to do,” the admiral replies. “If they believe we’ve quit, we may find it easier for us to corner them closer to our shores.”
“That’s a real gamble, sir,” the vice-admiral says without considering the impact such words might have.
In frustration, the admiral replies, “No shit, Kevin, but do it my way, will you?”
“Yes, sir. Will do.” Kevin O’Rourke knows the admiral will remember those four careless words for some time to come.
“They’re reporting only intermittent success so far, sir, I regret to say,” he says.
“No, that’s okay. I want you to pull both squadrons back to the lines in the previous message I just sent you. Concentrating the greater number of vessels and planes we can there will give us a better chance of finding them.”
“You’re saying you just want us to break off as if we quit looking for them?” O’Rourke questions.
“That’s exactly what I want you to do,” the admiral replies. “If they believe we’ve quit, we may find it easier for us to corner them closer to our shores.”
“That’s a real gamble, sir,” the vice-admiral says without considering the impact such words might have.
In frustration, the admiral replies, “No shit, Kevin, but do it my way, will you?”
“Yes, sir. Will do.” Kevin O’Rourke knows the admiral will remember those four careless words for some time to come.
Monday, February 1, 2010
Book Signing on February 20, 2010
Joe Smiga will be signing his novel, "Behind The Lies," on Saturday, February 20th from 3:00 to 5:00 PM. The signing will be held at The Toadstool Bookstore in Milford, New Hampshire. Everyone is invited to attend.
Chapter Eighty-Seven Same Day
Admiral Smith is on the phone to Vice-Admiral Dave Peterson, commander of the Atlantic Fleet.
“Dave is there any word from SOSUS or your screen identifying a Kilo?”
“No, sir, not as yet.”
“SOSUS picked up two Kilos headed to the west coast,” the admiral says. “I cannot believe they are going to leave the east coast clear, Dave.”
“I can’t either, sir. Not with such a tempting target as Washington.”
“Okay, Dave, keep me posted. We’re running a display screen in the Situation Room on every move we see.”
“Dave is there any word from SOSUS or your screen identifying a Kilo?”
“No, sir, not as yet.”
“SOSUS picked up two Kilos headed to the west coast,” the admiral says. “I cannot believe they are going to leave the east coast clear, Dave.”
“I can’t either, sir. Not with such a tempting target as Washington.”
“Okay, Dave, keep me posted. We’re running a display screen in the Situation Room on every move we see.”
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