Drone Command

THIRTY-FIVE

As soon as the plane taxied to a halt, Myers shoved her way past the fawning Chinese cabin attendant and dashed down the staircase to the tarmac. She climbed into the rear passenger seat of an American Chevy Suburban and was greeted by the driver and the security muscle — both Pearce Systems employees and both women — who remained up front, weapons secured under their seats.

The Suburban sped past the terminal gate as Myers speed-dialed President Lane on a secured phone in the back of the vehicle.

“Margaret, it’s good to hear your voice.”

“Thank you.”

“I take it everything went as planned?”

“Not exactly.”

“Did you see the missile? Is it legit?”

“Yes, it’s real, and it looks legit. Ji handed me all the test data to back up his claim.” She handed the thumb drive to the security guard, Stella Kang, as she spoke. Stella loaded the drive into a USB port on a secured wireless transmitter and began uploading the data.

“Our analysts will tear into it as soon as they get it,” Lane said.

“Won’t be long. Let me know what they find.”

“Of course. So you were able to get eyeballs on the Wu-14?”

“Even laid my hands on it.”

“Outstanding. So what’s the problem?”

“They kept Troy for interrogation. Called him a spy.”

“You think the mission’s blown?”

“No, or I wouldn’t be here now talking to you.”

“They must have suspected something.”

“Maybe.” Myers was thinking about the woman who had taken such a keen interest in Troy back in the hangar. “And maybe not.”

“So long as you’re safe.”

“It’s Troy you need to worry about. We’ve got to get him out of there fast.”

“You know we can’t do anything to jeopardize the operation.”

“You can’t leave him there.”

“Pearce would understand.”

“I don’t. He’s my friend, and yours. And he’s an American, damn it. That used to mean something.”

“There’s a bigger picture here.”

“Don’t tell me about a bigger picture. I’ve sat where you’re sitting, remember? But you don’t leave a man behind, ever, no matter what it costs.”

Lane hesitated. She was right, of course. “I’ll have Gaby pick up the phone and see if she can get to the bottom of this.”

“No offense, but they don’t call the State Department Foggy Bottom for nothing. I need you to get on the phone yourself.”

Lane wanted to chew her ass out. How dare she speak to him that way? But he owed her everything, and his dad raised him to believe that the man with the greatest power had the greatest opportunity and responsibility to serve those under him. All of the bowing and scraping and yes, sirs he’d been subjected to over the last several months in office had inflated his ego more than he wanted to admit.

“You’re right. I’ll call President Sun directly. I can’t make any promises and I won’t jeopardize the mission. But I’ll do whatever I can.”

“So will I.”

“Margaret—”

Myers hung up the phone.

There were very few days she regretted resigning from the Oval Office.

Today was one of them.