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“Yes, Nuclear Counter Terrorism. I believe there has been an incident.”

“There has been a small incident, totally unrelated to either terrorism or nuclear material. So if you don’t mind, Miss Todd, this is a crime scene and we are very busy,” he said, nodding at his younger colleague as an instruction to remove Rebecca.

Rebecca again very subtly side-stepped the agent’s attempt to take her arm.

“It’s not Miss, it’s Special Agent and I apologize, I was looking for the agent in charge,” Rebecca again looked around the room. “Perhaps your superior?” she mused, taunting the Director.

“I can assure you, Special Agent Todd,” he spat, “I am the senior agent in charge and you will not find anyone more senior other than in Washington.”

“Well I would have thought that you being so senior, you might be aware that we have a severe threat level of a nuclear device in transit or already in the US. As such, I’ll decide whether this incident is worthy of my interest.”

Rather than go toe to toe with, he had to admit, a very attractive but arrogant little bitch, he turned and taking his cell phone from his pocket, he hit the speed dial for Henry Preston, DNI, his boss’ boss.

After a very muted and it appeared one way conversation, he turned back towards Rebecca.

“It appears you’re correct. There has been a warning. However, I can assure you this incident is not linked.”

“You have the shooters in custody?”

“No.”

“You have a positive ID of the shooters?”

“No.”

“You have confirmed who the victims are?”

“No.”

“So I’m sorry Director Carter, exactly how can you be so confident that this incident is not related to my investigation?” inquired Rebecca.

“We have the victims identified as South African nationals. The belief is this is to do with diamonds or drugs. So, if you don’t mind we’re very busy.”

Rebecca smiled. This was actually proving to be fun. “South Africa you say? Well I’m afraid that changes everything.” She drew her phone from her pocket and began to dial a number.

“Sorry, what are you doing?” asked Director Carter.

“Calling in the full team,” replied Rebecca nonchalantly. “Oh and NEST, you know, the Nuclear Emergency Support Team who I’m sure will want an exclusion zone in place asap.”

“Just wait a minute,” he said trying to grab her phone. “I said South African!”

Rebecca moved her hand away firmly. “I know what you said. South Africa had a nuclear Weapons programme in the 80s and 90s.” Rebecca did not add that they only had six weapons and they had been dismantled in 1989. “And I’ll need you all out of here. This area is now designated hot, until NEST deem it otherwise.”

Director Carter raised his hands in surrender. “OK, OK, you win the pissing contest, what do you want?”

Rebecca relented slightly and half lowered the cell phone. “I just want to check this is not linked to the nuclear threat and if not, I’ll be out of your hair.”

Director Carter considered the request. He didn’t like it. So far, the situation was well contained. The four shooters, even if they were identifiable, were not linkable to the CIA. As for the Senator and his accomplices, they were long gone. If only she had waited another ten minutes, the clean up would have been done and they would have been long gone themselves. The thought however of a full blown nuclear incident chilled him to the bones. There was no way they’d be able to keep that quiet and quiet was how he had been told to keep it. His second salary and soon to be retirement job rested on his keeping the incident very quiet.

As Rebecca began to raise her phone, Carter could see millions of dollars disappearing from his future potential earnings and 401K.

“OK, where do you want to start?”

Rebecca smiled. Her fake badge for an agency that dealt with the stuff that everyone else wanted to avoid and her total confidence, laced with a heavy dose of BS had got her in. That and the
Sayanim
who had implanted the record for Rebecca Todd as an agent in NCT.
Sayanim
were an urban legend that happened to be true. Jews from every nation in the world knew that whenever the time came, they would be welcomed with open arms in Israel. Their spiritual homeland was always there for them, not just in spirit but in body also. As such, when their homeland called, they answered. It was one of the main reasons that the relatively small Mossad punched far beyond its weight. If Mossad needed a room in a hotel, a
Sayanim
could arrange it. A safe house in any city in the world, not a problem. A rental car with no papers, a seat on a plane, a train delayed, not a problem.

Jews throughout the world were in positions of power. Some less so than others but one did not need a very powerful position, just a well placed one. For example, the Human Resource record holder at the Department of Energy was an American born woman of many generations but she had Jewish blood that coursed through her veins. Israel was not an enemy of the US and never would be. So, adding the name of Rebecca Todd, along with a photo and a history spanning ten years’ service was not only easy, as far as she was concerned, it was harmless.

After fifteen minutes of quizzing Director Carter and a few witnesses, Rebecca was 100% confident that the Newark shootings were totally unrelated to the nuclear threat. After giving this conclusion to a very happy Director Carter, Rebecca left the hotel convinced she had just uncovered something far larger and significantly more worrying than any nuclear threat.

Johnson closed his cell phone, caught the VP’s eye and nodded towards the corridor. As they stepped out of the room, he spoke quietly.

“That was Carter. They have confirmed that the Senator and Agent Clark are not among the casualties at the scene.”

Russell looked at Johnson in disbelief. “Are you winding me up? Is this some kind of sick joke?”

“I’m afraid not, all the casualties are ours. And from what Carter has said, it’s not a pretty sight.”

Russell fell against the wall. The plan to assassinate his challenger for the presidential race had been put to him as a simple but essential job. The plan had been straightforward. A threat would be made, the Senator would be taken from the Capitol building by police officers who would later be discovered to be terrorists but only after his body was found. The brother was an afterthought by Johnson. He knew that, left alive, he would not rest until his brother’s killers were caught or killed.

Simple. Plus, there was the added benefit of a swing to the right in the presidential vote to ensure victory for Russell against the Democrat candidate. It had all sounded so logical and impersonal at the time. To become president, they just had to take Senator Charles Baker out of the race. However, the body count was mounting. So far as Russell could tell, there were four dead Agency staff, four dead South Africans, one dead trucker, one dead old man, the Senator’s brother and sister in law, his nephew and a dog, all dead. To call it an unmitigated disaster would be a compliment.

“Cover story?” he barked.

“So far, the only public casualties are the trucker and pick-up driver in Maine. Everything else has been cleaned like it never happened. We’ve called in a lot of favors but as far as the world knows, all that has happened today is a fuel truck exploded on a fairly remote stretch of road.”

“What the hell happens if Senator Baker just walks into a police station or, even worse, a news station?” Russell was becoming more incensed as the ramifications of what their actions would mean if they didn’t get Baker.

“Not a problem, Homeland have a BOLO (be on the lookout) for Senator Baker. He has to be held incommunicado as a matter of National Security until Homeland can secure him.”

“That will work?”

“Trust me, we mention National Security, people start imagining Gitmo, rendition flights to Poland, Turkey and Egypt and nobody wants that. He’ll be locked in a holding cell and nobody will go near him.”

“So just Homeland and CIA are involved?”

“No, the FBI are in on it too. We’ve got some good people there on our payroll. Trust me, we’ll get this closed down by midnight.”

Russell allowed himself to relax. Baker had nowhere to go.

“Wait a minute, you said the pick-up driver and trucker in Maine. You didn’t say Sam Baker?”

Johnson’s face flushed red. He had hoped to avoid this revelation. He knew it would not be taken well.

“Hmm, it appears the reason we missed them at Newark...”

“Don’t tell me, Sam Baker!” interrupted an incensed Russell.

“It appears so. Reports suggest a third party with a shotgun helped the Senator and Secret Service agent before the three drove off in a Maine State Police cruiser.”

Just as Russell thought it couldn’t get any worse, his cell phone rang. Before he even looked at the caller ID, he assumed the Horsemen were about to add their grain of salt. On checking the ID, he smiled. It was an international number. Some relief from the Baker debacle.

“Mr Vice President?”

Russell took a second before he recognized the voice.

“Ben, how are you doing?” he responded to Ben Meir.

“I’m fine thanks, Andrew, which I believe is more than can be said for you!”

Russell was somewhat taken aback by the Israeli’s bluntness.

“Sorry?” he replied indignantly. He had assumed, on hearing Ben’s voice, that the call was about the nuke.

“I’ve just had a very interesting chat with one of my agents. I can only surmise that you have just recently failed to assassinate your presidential challenger.”

Russell remained speechless as he looked at Johnson in horror.

Johnson mouthed to him “What’s wrong?” which brought back some of Russell’s composure.

“I’m sorry Ben, I have absolutely no idea what you’re talking about,” he replied with all the sincerity he could muster.

“Let me elaborate then.” As Ben spoke, Russell pushed Johnson into an empty room and pressed the speaker button. “My agent just visited a very violent multiple shooting in Newark. The scene was being supervised by a Director Carter who I believe is the second or third most senior officer in Homeland Security. The scene was being cleaned, not investigated. And from what my agent discovered, a man fitting the description of Charles Baker was ushered out of the building just after the shooting and fled the scene avoiding the police. I’m also aware of the BOLO issued for the same Senator Charles Baker and putting two and two together and getting five, I’ve concluded that the biggest beneficiary of a dead Charles Baker is you.”

“Ben, I’m sorry I don’t know what to say other than of course this is nonsense.”

“Andrew, Andrew, my dear boy. You’ve got it all wrong. I’m not calling to give you a hard time, I’m calling to offer you my help!”

As Johnson called Carter to confirm the details, Russell stalled.

“Exactly how can you help me do something I’m not even doing?”

“I’m not going to debate the issue Andrew. I’m offering you the assistance of one of my very best operatives.”

Realizing he wasn’t getting anywhere, he tried a different tack.

“Ben, somebody has just come into the room. I’ll call you straight back.”

Hanging up the phone, Russell turned to Johnson, whose gesticulating had become wilder with every second that had passed.

Russell waved at Johnson to hurry up with the call, patience was not his forte.

“Well?” asked Russell as Johnson ended the call.

“The only person to attend, other than Carter’s people, was a ball-busting DoE agent, name of Rebecca Todd. She was there in connection with the nuclear threat we’ve received.”

“What did she want?”

“A quick look to ensure there was no nuclear threat and she supposedly left satisfied that there wasn’t one.”

Russell began to wonder whether he was surrounded by complete imbeciles.

“So this DoE woman just happened to be in the neighborhood looking into a nuclear threat that myself and the President have just been made aware of in the Situation Room of the White House? A threat that the Israelis themselves have made us aware of?”

“Well, when you put it like that,” mused an embarrassed Johnson. “It would seem the DoE agent was an Israeli agent.”

“No shit, Sherlock,” replied a furious Russell.

“But Carter checked her credentials, she was legit.”

“I’m sure she
was
,” replied Russell as he exited the room. He was certain DoE agent Rebecca Todd had already ceased to exist on any record.

He made his way back to his office. He needed to call Ben back and quickly.

“Ben?”

“Andrew,” replied Ben Meir. “How are you?”

“Worried, Ben. There are some very strange things happening.”

“It would appear so, none more so however, than your little side show!” added Ben with an edge.

“Let’s start with the nuclear threat. How real?”

“Very,” replied Ben matter-of-factly. “But I’d rather start with your little crusade. What the hell are you doing, Andrew?” asked a less jovial Ben.