Second Strike

CHAPTER 25

^{WASHINGTON, D.C.,}

^{AUGUST 15, 3:27 P.M. EST}

Olivia decided to get right to it.

“Professor, there was a disturbing incident that occurred last night in northern Georgia. Three highway patrol officers and two civilians were shot by an unknown assailant. Perhaps you heard it on the news?”

Brandt was sitting in the same chair as when they had met earlier, and again, Arlo was, literally, underfoot. “No, I don’t think I’ve heard anything about it, but go on.”

“The five victims were each shot several times, including one shot above the bridge of the nose. You will remember that Taras Bor used just such a placement in an attempt to cast suspicion on Michael Garin for the Omega assassinations.”

“Yes. I remember that well.” The Oracle leapt ahead at light speed. “I suspect you’ve concluded that Bor was, therefore, involved in the Georgia killings. Bor’s involvement in the killings then demands greater scrutiny of the activity at Russian industrial sites, which heightened activity you do not believe is coincidental.”

“Yes.” Olivia shrugged. “In a nutshell, that’s precisely what I think.”

“And you also think that we should bring this to the attention of President Marshall.”

“That’s your call, Professor.” As soon as she said it, Olivia chastised herself. She was punting, avoiding making a firm recommendation. Covering her ass, as Dwyer had said.

“Then my call is to thank you for the information and take it under advisement. There are other matters requiring immediate attention. The previous administration left us strategic chaos: China, North Korea, ISIS. And of course Iran. Those messes aren’t speculative.”

“Professor—”

“This still doesn’t even remotely rise to the level of presidential concern. Look, Olivia, I know the EMP operation was a traumatic experience for you. You were new on the job, new in D.C., and you’re thrown literally into the middle of the biggest national security threat since the Cuban Missile Crisis. It’s understandable that Bor would loom large in your mind. But sometimes coincidences are just coincidences.” Brandt waved his hand dismissively. “A couple more forklifts at a Russian warehouse coupled with a drive-by shooting in Georgia doesn’t command a National Security Council briefing in the Situation Room.”

Brandt’s belittling sarcasm, so unlike him and so alien to their long relationship, angered Olivia, but she remained calm.

“Professor, those satellite images might have shown a modest uptick in activity, but respectfully, any uptick in the sort of activity that presaged what would’ve been the most catastrophic attack in American history should be taken seriously. And, yes, when coupled with the slaughter of five people in the same way Omega was slaughtered during the EMP operation, it should, without doubt, be brought to the attention of the president. And, for what it’s worth, Bor doesn’t just loom large in my mind. He also looms large in the minds of Michael Garin and Dan Dwyer. They’re worried it’s Bor and that something’s afoot.”

The normally unflappable Brandt was somewhat taken aback by Olivia’s adamancy. Several seconds passed before he responded, his tone conciliatory.

“Olivia, in all the time I’ve known you, I’ve always respected your judgment, and I do so now. It’s precisely this kind of alertness that makes you invaluable. The president himself was grateful for your alertness and analysis in helping prevent the EMP attack.” Brandt paused, choosing his words with precision.

“You’ve done your job by telling me of this. And I’m convinced it should be taken seriously. As national security advisor, however, my job isn’t merely to relay important information to the president. It’s to weigh that information, consider it in context, integrate it with other information, and advise the president accordingly. In that respect, I’m also something of a gatekeeper, not simply a conduit. So you’ve done your job and now I must do mine. Thank you.”

Olivia rose and walked out of Brandt’s office. She was irritated. Brandt’s attempt to mollify her had come off as patronizing, a posture he’d not taken before.

Even so, while she disagreed, she understood his position. It made perfect sense.

But the irritation persisted along with the buzzing in her ears.

By the time she’d exited the White House, her phone began vibrating. It was Laura Casini. Olivia answered it.

“Every time I talk to you, my boss ends up thinking I should be fitted for a tinfoil hat. Tell me why I should talk to you this time,” Olivia said, slightly exasperated.

“Because you’re very good at solving puzzles and I have another piece for you to play with.”

“I don’t need any more puzzles, Laura. I need answers.”

“Can’t help you there. In fact, if you come for another visit I’m sure what you see will raise even more questions than before.”

Olivia groaned. “Same subject matter?”

“No. Same country. But different subject altogether. And, to my mind at least, utterly nonsensical.”

Olivia was no longer irritated. She was worried. “I’m on my way.”

“Bring your imagination.”