TWENTY-SEVEN

Pack McHenry strolled at a leisurely pace between Joshua and Abigail as they walked around the Lincoln Memorial, keeping their distance from the tourists and cameras. Joshua had arranged the meeting on the fly, immediately after his conversation with President Corland. McHenry was in Rhode Island when he got the call and flew to D.C. the next day. He sounded skeptical about Joshua’s meeting with the president.

“I don’t mean to downplay your talk with Corland, but I should have been born in Missouri. Translated, show me.”

Joshua admitted that Corland hadn’t made any promises. “I’m not naive. The commander in chief’s not about to treat me like a cabinet member just because he gives me a medal during an election year.”

“Who else was in the room?” McHenry asked.

“The president’s chief of staff.”

“Hank Strand?”

By the way McHenry spoke the name, Joshua could tell that McHenry knew something about Strand and that it wasn’t good.

“Look, Josh, as I explained, we ran this through the right channels. We have pretty good evidence that our government is failing to treat this as an authentic threat. And nothing you’ve told me about your meeting with President Corland changes that.”

Abigail chimed in. “What if you’re wrong, Pack? What if your intel is from unreliable leads, misinterpreted data?”

“Like another Iraq WMD intelligence mistake? Abby, I wish we were wrong on this. It would make everything easier, wouldn’t it? But we’re not. We’ve triangulated it. We have multiple sources, and they all fit together. Just yesterday, before your call, I received an eDatFile showing a flurry of activity in Kyrgyzstan, at a museum that’s been converted into an operations center. We’ve tracked communications between that command center and operatives in Russia, North Korea, and Iran.”

“So you have surveillance?” Abby asked. “You know the content of those communications?”

“No. Just the fact that messages were sent, and there’s some kind of tracking going on. It seems they’re following an airplane or a ship, not sure which. My guess is a shipping vessel, probably commercial. They’re easier to hide in the expanse of the ocean. And easier to disguise. You can change flags, captains, vessel names pretty easily.”

Joshua was struck by Pack’s candor. His friend was usually tight-lipped about details, but not now. As Joshua started to piece together the picture, Pack McHenry’s real position suddenly became clear. He was not really retired from “the Company.” It seemed clear that he was still employed as a private subcontractor for the CIA, which explained his access to this kind of intelligence. If that were the case, and federal officials were ignoring his pleas, what did that mean about the attitude of the government toward provable threats?

“What’s going on here, Pack?” Joshua asked. “You’re still connected, aren’t you? You’re still deep inside — and somebody isn’t listening. Somehow the chain of command has been compromised.”

Pack McHenry stopped in his tracks. At first he didn’t say anything. His eyes searched the ground. “I’m not saying that the president is unconcerned. I’m saying … that it just may not matter.”

Joshua continued to push him. “So are you saying that the president is unable to use his executive powers? That Corland is blocked from executing certain commands … orders having to do with national defense, intelligence?”

McHenry looked off toward the memorial. Then he took something out of his pocket and held it up. Joshua and Abigail were looking at the profile of Lincoln on a penny.

Pack asked, “A little quiz. What’s on the flip side of this penny?”

Joshua hesitated but Abigail didn’t. “The Lincoln Memorial.”

“And the inscription above it?”

“E Pluribus Unum.”

Joshua smiled. “Now you know why I won’t play Trivial Pursuit with her.”

“So what are you telling us to do?” Abigail asked.

“To figure it out,” he replied.

Pack McHenry began to walk away. When he was almost out of hearing, Abigail shouted out to him, “E Pluribus Unum … ‘out of many, one.’”

McHenry didn’t turn around; he simply held his hand up and gave a sort of salute.

Abigail looked at Joshua. “Out of many, one. The need for American unity. That’s his point. Things are unraveling at the top …”

Then she had another thought, but it sickened her as she said it. “Josh, I think there may be a silent coup going on in our government.”