The President Is Missing(103)

“If I take off my hat,” he says, reminding them of the signal.

Lojzik gets out of the car, looking the part of a lake guy, wearing a hat with a ripped visor, a flannel shirt, and torn jeans. He approaches the SUVs at the barricade, raising a hand as if posing a question.

“Hello?” he says. “You fellas know how I find County Road 20?”

No answer. The windows of the SUVs are tinted, so he can’t see inside.

“Anyone there?” he asks.

He asks again. And again. It’s what they thought: nobody’s occupying those SUVs. The Secret Service is spread too thin, especially with the other security now flying off in a Marine helicopter.

So Lojzik doesn’t remove his cap, and the gunners don’t spill out to fire their rockets at the convoy.

Good. They’ll need them for the cabin.

Lojzik returns to the car and nods at the men. “Looks all clear to the cabin,” he says. “Hold on.”

He drops the gear into Reverse and backs up to the end of the gravel road. Then he stops, puts the gear in Drive, and floors the gas pedal, hurtling the van toward the barricade.



Moments later, a speedboat drifts slowly toward the small bay where Secret Service agents sit in a boat, well lit at dusk. Unlike team 1’s van, penetrating from the north, the boat only contains four men, the opportunity for concealment being far less.

Two men stand at the bow of the boat. At their feet on the deck: the other two men, lying prone, and four AK-74 assault rifles fitted with under-barrel grenade launchers.

“Stop your boat!” the Secret Service agent calls out through a megaphone. “This is restricted water!”

The leader, a man named Hamid, cups his hand and yells toward the agents. “Can you tow us ashore? Our engine’s dead!”

“Turn your boat around!”

Hamid opens his arms. “I can’t. Engine’s dead!”

The man standing next to Hamid, his head turned downward only slightly, says to the men at his feet, “On my command.”

“Then drop anchor and we will send for help!”

“You want me to—”

“Do not advance! Drop anchor now!”

The agents on the boat scramble, one heading to each side of the boat, one to the bow, each of them yanking off tarps, exposing mounted machine guns.

“Now!” whispers Hamid, reaching down for one of the weapons.

The hidden men jump to their feet with their AK-74s, their grenade launchers, and open fire on the Secret Service.





Chapter

99



In the communications room, reading the text messages between Nina and our Benedict Arnold from Sunday, May 6, I now see how Lilly became involved. It was our insider’s way of getting Nina to access me directly without going through anyone else, keeping the insider’s fingerprints off the whole thing. Nina’s reply:

Nina (7:23 AM): You want me to tell the president’s daughter?

U/C (7:28 AM): Yes. If you give her the information, she will deliver it straight to her father. And the president will deal with you directly.

Nina (7:34 AM): Do you think the president will make this deal with me?

U/C (7:35 AM): Of course he will. Amnesty from your home government in exchange for saving our country? Of course he will! But you’ll have to go see him. Can you do that? Can you get to the US?

Nina (7:38 AM): Do I have to see him in person?

U/C (7:41 AM): Yes. He wouldn’t take your word for this over the phone.

Nina (7:45 AM): I don’t know. How do I know he won’t ship me to Gitmo and torture me?

U/C (7:48 AM): He wouldn’t. Trust me.



The truth is, I don’t know what I would have been willing to do to stop this virus. I would have interrogated Nina if I thought it would get me answers.

But it never got that far, because Nina made it clear—through Lilly, and then when she came to see me—that she had a partner who knew the other half of the puzzle. They were a package deal, Nina said, and if I detained her at the White House, I’d never meet the other half of the puzzle, and I’d never be able to stop the virus.

Which is where we find ourselves now.

Nina (7:54 AM): If I do this if I go see his daughter in Paris how do I know the president will take me seriously?

U/C (7:59 AM): He will.

Nina (8:02 AM): Why? U didn’t

U/C (8:04 AM): Because I’m going to give you a code word that will give you instant credibility. The moment he hears that code, he will take you seriously. No question.

Nina (8:09 AM): OK what is code

U/C (8:12 AM): I have to trust you. This is codeword-classified information I’m disclosing. I wouldn’t just have to resign my position. I’d go to prison. You get that?

Nina (8:15 AM): Yeah Edward Snowden Chelsea Manning?

U/C (8:17 AM): Basically. I’m risking everything to help you. I’m trusting you.

Nina (8:22 AM): We have to trust EACH OTHER. I won’t ever tell anyone who you are or what you told me. Swear to God!!

U/C (9:01 AM): All right. I am taking the risk of my life right now. I hope you understand that. I hope I can trust you.

Nina (9:05 AM): I do. U can



So that’s how Nina learned “Dark Ages.” And the day after this exchange of text messages—just five days ago, this past Monday—Nina found Lilly in Paris at the Sorbonne and whispered “Dark Ages” in her ear. Lilly called me, and I’ve spent the last four-plus days trying to figure out who the insider is.