The Switch

68

This is Senator Robbins’s office.”

“William Abbott, please.”

“May I ask who’s calling?”

“Michael Tanner.”

Will Abbott picked up the line instantly. “Mr. Tanner—”

Tanner cut him off. “Yes, I don’t know if you remember me, but we met through Seth, in Boston—?”

“Tanner—”

“Hold on. I need your help. I’m being held at, uh...”

Tanner looked at Earle, who said, “The new federal detention facility right outside Waldorf.”

“At the new federal detention facility outside Waldorf, Maryland. By the National Security Agency. Now, I’m sure you’d like me to cooperate with them. But before I do, I was hoping you might be able to talk sense into our friends here. Thanks.”

He handed the phone back to Earle. “I think he wants to talk to you.”

“Is this Deputy Director Lash?” Will said. “Yes, this is Will Abbott. I’m the chief of staff to Senator— Right. Will Abbott.” Will stood up and, stretching the phone’s curly cord, he walked over to his office door and pushed it closed.

“Well,” he continued, “I don’t know what the hell your agency thinks it’s doing, but this isn’t some... Abdul Mohammed you’ve got locked up. This is a respected Boston businessman, a well-known member of my boss’s... support community. I mean, there have been articles written about this guy. Right. Michael Tanner. He’s at your detention complex near Waldorf.”

Will was trying not to sound panicked, which he was.

NSA had grabbed Tanner! Did they have the senator’s laptop too? Had Tanner told them whose laptop he’d accidentally picked up? If so, they already knew where the leak had come from. And her career was over. As was his. All Tanner had to do was answer their first question.

Tanner, who was obviously calling from a monitored line and knew it, had figured it out. He knew that Will was desperate not only to get the boss’s computer back but to keep secret whose computer it was. And to keep that compromising information secret from the NSA in particular.

So Tanner was making an unmistakable, implicit threat. If you don’t get me out of detention by the NSA, I will tell them whose computer I ended up with. And you sure as hell don’t want that.

No, Will sure as hell didn’t want that.

“This is very much an oversight matter,” Will said crisply. “You’re holding an American citizen in detention for what exactly? We find this highly troubling.”

He listened for a minute and then broke in: “And now your agency is asking for another ten billion dollars in black-box allocations? Well, the senator is going to have to take a very careful look at that. Especially if you persist in holding a noncharged US citizen in a prison cell. Do we need to get the entire committee involved in this?”

Will listened a bit longer. “Okay,” he said. “I’m glad I’m getting through to you.”

“Yes, sir, absolutely. The very next thing I do.” Earle put down the phone.

He swiveled around in his chair, which emitted a moan. “Well, Michael, I sure underestimated you. You obviously have some kinda juice in this town. I don’t know who you know, but you sure pushed the magic button. That was the deputy director. My boss. And you, my friend, you are free to go.”

Earle shook his head with what looked like disbelief.