Drone Threat

56

Good as his word, the Saudi major provided Pearce with a hot shower, clothes confiscated from the pro shop, and a ride to the airport in his command vehicle. Pearce’s presence in the Kingdom was kept secret from the American embassy as per Chandler’s request.

Pearce boarded his company plane and headed straight for the cockpit. He ordered the pilot to radio the tower and get the plane off the runway. “We’re not leaving here without al-Saud in custody,” he told the crew. “Understood?”

“Yes, sir.”

The onboard doctor — a physician’s assistant, Sarah Swift — approached him in the cabin. “I need to check you out.”

“Not yet,” Pearce said. “I’ve got a couple of calls to make. We’ll do it once we’re in the air.”

“But, sir—”

Pearce’s withering glare cut off the former combat medic in midsentence.

“Yes, sir.”

“Thank you.”

Pearce dashed for his secured comms station and contacted Ian. The smart tattoo was already starting to fail, and it wasn’t an encrypted system anyway.

“Ian, have you reached Chandler yet? I need to speak with him now.”

“I’ve tried to connect with him directly. His assistant says he’s unavailable at the moment.”

“Tell his assistant Chandler either calls me back right now or I call the New York Times.”

“Will do. Give me a minute.”

Chandler was on the phone ten minutes later.

“Troy? It’s me, Clay. How are you feeling?”

“Fucking fantastic. Did you listen to the digital recording Ian sent you?”

“Thank God you’re alive. I couldn’t believe my ears when Ian said you’d been kidnapped.”

“The recording? Did you hear it?”

“Of course. Al-Saud is a real son of a bitch — pardon my French. I’m glad we’re rid of him.”

“That’s one of the reasons why I needed to talk to you. I need to get my hands on him right now, find out who’s running his terror operation.”

“I’m afraid that’s not going to happen. He’s in Saudi custody now.”

“Are you shitting me? The Saudis owe us everything. I just need him for thirty minutes. I’ll even keep him alive.”

“You see, Troy, here’s the rub. In order to save you, I had to cut a deal with the Royal House of Saud. The ambassador is one of theirs. They agreed to send in their best and rescue you, but they insisted on keeping the prince in their custody.”

“The bastard attacked our country and got us into a war.”

“And I’ve been assured he’ll be dealt with harshly.”

“I don’t give a shit how he’s dealt with. I need to find out who he was working with. We need to stop the source of the terror attacks.”

“Did we hear the same recording? Al-Saud said the attacks were staged and over with. No more attacks have occurred since the last one, which confirms his statement. As far as I’m concerned, the terror threat is neutralized.”

“Are you out of your mind?” Pearce could practically hear Chandler’s jaw clenching over the satellite connection.

The vice president hesitated a long while before speaking, obviously trying to calm himself down. “The Saudi government has publicly supported our actions against Raqqa and they’re providing important logistical resources for our operations. I won’t do anything to jeopardize that relationship. This war against ISIS is too important. Besides, we still have our best people on the case. We’ll find whoever was responsible for this in due time.”

“Why take the chance? Al-Saud knows exactly who this is.”

“We need the Saudis to fight this war. The Saudis won’t hand him over. Period. You said there was another reason you needed to talk to me?”

“Yeah. It’s time to stop the bombing.”

“Excuse me?”

“The war is a sham. Al-Saud said as much. Civilian casualties are mounting even as we speak. Lane would stop it immediately if he knew about al-Saud.”

“I’m not so sure about that.”

“Call him. Tell him exactly what’s happened.”

“The president is behind closed doors right now with President Sun and the other Asia leaders. I’m in charge now, and we’re not calling the war off.”

Rage fell on Pearce like a bad fever. “You callous son of a bitch. This isn’t a game. People are dying.”

“Everybody dies, Pearce, including you and me. It’s just their time, that’s all.”

“You’re killing innocent women and children.”

“Innocent? I had no idea you were such a romantic. There’s no innocence over there, especially in Raqqa. It’s a jihadi Woodstock. Every baby on the tit is just another suckling terrorist waiting for his turn to kill an American.”

Pearce’s grip tightened around the handset. “So help me God, I’ll go to the press with this. Pull the blanket back and expose the Saudis for what they’ve done.”

“The Saudis? No. You mean, al-Saud. He’s just one Saudi. Emotionally unstable, certainly. But the House of Saud is our staunch ally in the War on Terror and has been since 9/11. They have powerful friends on the Hill. Besides, we’re now in the middle of a war against the most brutal and evil regime we’ve seen since Hitler. Are you sure you want to muddy the waters now?”

“I don’t give a shit. It’s the truth.”

“Truth is a funny thing, Pearce. Go ahead and tell the ‘truth.’ But do so knowing that if you stop the war, you’ll be saving ISIS from destruction. That means you’ll be responsible for every person they rape, torture, and kill from now on. Is that a truth you can handle?”

“Don’t try to play head games with me.”

“And don’t forget. If you go to the press with your story, Lane will be impeached because he’s the one that gave the order. Believe me, he’s got plenty of enemies in Washington, and the long knives will come out lickety-split. And here’s one more truth for you to chew on: If Lane’s impeached, I’m the next POTUS.” Chandler couldn’t help but laugh. “I bet you’d just love that, wouldn’t you?”

Pearce wanted to puke. His head swam. This is why he hated politics, and Chandler was everything he hated about politicians. But in his own sick, twisted logic, Chandler was right. The damage he’d cause by blowing the whistle on al-Saud still wouldn’t stop a war that everybody in Washington now wanted. He saw Lane’s poll numbers after his speech. They were through the roof. Proof yet again that the “rally ’round the flag” phenomenon was the most dependable fact in American political life. Ever since Lane’s speech, Americans wanted the war and they craved leadership, and Lane was giving them both. With that kind of credibility, the president could craft a lasting peace at the Asia Security Summit, too. It all made perfect sense — at least politically.

“Are we still connected? I don’t hear you running your mouth,” Chandler said.

“I’m here.”

“The truth is a fickle lover, isn’t it?”

Pearce remembered something al-Saud said. “Do you believe in God, Chandler?”

“It comes with the job description.”

“Good. Because when you meet Him, you’ll have to give an account for what you’ve done. And so will I.”

“I’m prepared to give an account when that day comes.”

“That day will come sooner than you think if I have anything to say about it.”

“Are you threatening me, Troy? The sitting vice president?”

Pearce heard the mocking tone in Chandler’s voice.

“No threat, Mr. Vice President. Just conveying my fervent hope and prayer.” Pearce hung up to the sound of Chandler’s laughter.

Fuck Chandler, Pearce thought. Let him play his stupid games. There were more important things to do.

He knew he could still try and persuade the president to call off the bombing and maybe even the war after Lane’s meeting with President Sun. Equally important, there was still a lone wolf on the prowl whom he had to find. Whoever he was, he was dangerous as hell and was roaming free. It didn’t matter to Pearce if he had stopped operations for al-Saud. The man was guilty of committing crimes on American soil and he needed to be brought to justice. Pearce had to find him.

But how?