Deception Point Page 58

I feature an emergency The operator was breathless. phone call for the chairman.tench looked incredulous. Not now, you dontIts from Rachel sexton. She says its urgent.The lour that darkened tenchs locution appeared to be to a greater extent one of puzzlement than anger. Tench eyed the cordless phone. Thats a house take out. Thats not secure.No, maam. But the ingress call is open anyway. Shes on a radiophone. She needs to speak to the chairman right away.Live in ninety secondsTenchs cold eyes stared, and she held by a spider-like hand. Give me the phone.The operators heart was pounding now. Ms. Sexton wants to speak to hot seat Herney directly. She told me to postpone the press conference until shed talked to him. I assured-Tench stepped toward the operator now, her character a go forthing whisper. Let me tell you how this works. You do not concentrate orders from the daughter of the Presidents opponent, you take them from me. I can assure you, this is as most as you ar e getting to the President until I find extinct what the hell is going on.The operator looked toward the President, who was now surrounded by microphone technicians, stylists, and several staff members talking him through final revisions of his speech.Sixty seconds the video supervisor yelled.Onboard the Charlotte, Rachel Sexton was pacing wildly in the tight aloofness when she finally heard a click on the telephone line.A raspy voice came on. Hello?President Herney? Rachel blurted.Marjorie Tench, the voice corrected. I am the Presidents senior adviser. Whoever this is, I must warn you that job calls against the White nominate are in violation of-For Christs sake This is not a prank This is Rachel Sexton. Im your NRO liaison and-I am aware of who Rachel Sexton is, maam. And I am doubtful that you are she. Youve called the White signboard on an unlocked line telling me to interrupt a major presidential broadcast. That is hardly comme il faut MO for someone with-Listen, Rachel fumed, I briefed your whole staff a couplet of hours ago on a meteorite. You sat in the front row. You watched my apprize on a television sitting on the Presidents desk Any questions?Tench fell silent a moment. Ms. Sexton, what is the meaning of this?The meaning is that you have to cheque the President His meteorite data is all wrong Weve just learned the meteorite was inserted from to a lower place the ice shelf. I dont know by whom, and I dont know wherefore But things are not what they seem up here The President is or so to endorse some seriously errant data, and I strongly advise-Wait one goddamned minute Tench lowered her voice. Do you realize what you are saying?Yes I suspect the NASA administrator has orchestrate some kind of large-scale fraud, and President Herney is intimately to get caught in the middle. Youve at least got to postpone ten minutes so I can explain to him whats been going on up here. Someone tried and true to kill me, for Gods sakeTenchs voice turn ed to ice. Ms. Sexton, let me use you a word of warning. If you are having second thoughts about your role in lot the White House in this campaign, you should have thought of that long to begin with you personally endorsed that meteorite data for the President.What Is she even listening?Im revolted by your display. Using an unsecured line is a cheap stunt. Implying the meteorite data has been faked? What kind of intelligence prescribed uses a radiophone to call the White House and talk about classified information? Obviously you are hoping someone intercepts this message.Norah Mangor was killed over this Dr. Ming is in any case dead. Youve got to warn-S outstrip right there I dont know what youre playing at, however I will remind you-and anyone else who happens to be intercepting this phone call-that the White House possesses videotaped depositions from NASAs top scientists, several renowned civilian scientists, and yourself, Ms. Sexton, all endorsing the meteorite data as acc urate. Why you are suddenly changing your story, I can provided imagine. Whatever the reason, consider yourself relieved of your White House post as of this instant, and if you try to taint this discovery with any more absurd allegations of drop dead play, I assure you the White House and NASA will sue you for hatchet job so fast you wont have a chance to pack a suitcase before you go to jail.Rachel opened her mouth to speak, but no words came.Zach Herney has been generous to you, Tench snapped, and frankly this smacks of a cheap Sexton publicity stunt. Drop it right now, or well press charges. I imprecate it.The line went dead.Rachels mouth was take over hanging open when the captain knocked on the door.Ms. Sexton? the captain said, peering in. Were picking up a faint sign up from Canadian National Radio. President Zach Herney has just begun his press conference.68 rest at the podium in the White House Briefing Room, Zach Herney matt-up the heat of the media lights and knew th e world was watching. The targeted blitz performed by the White House beg Office had created a contagion of media buzz. Those who did not hear about the hollo via television, radio, or on-line news invariably heard about it from neighbors, coworkers, and family. By 800 P.M., anyone not living in a cave was speculating about the topic of the Presidents address. In bars and living rooms over the globe, millions leaned toward their televisions in apprehensive wonder.It was during moments like these-facing the world-that Zach Herney truly felt the weight of his office. Anyone who said force was not addictive had never really experienced it. As he began his address, however, Herney sensed something was amiss. He was not a man prone to symbolize fright, and so the tingle of apprehension now tightening in his center startled him.Its the magnitude of the audience, he told himself. And yet he knew something else. Instinct. Something he had seen.It had been much(prenominal) a little thi ng, and yetHe told himself to forget it. It was nothing. And yet it stuck.Tench.Moments ago, as Herney was preparing to take the stage, he had seen Marjorie Tench in the yellow hallway, talking on a cordless phone. This was strange in itself, but it was made more so by the White House operator standing beside her, her face white with apprehension. Herney could not hear Tenchs phone conversation, but he could see it was contentious. Tench was arguing with a vehemence and anger the President had rarely seen-even from Tench. He paused a moment and caught her eye, inquisitive.Tench gave him the thumbs-up. Herney had never seen Tench give anyone the thumbs-up. It was the live image in Herneys mind as he was cued onto the stage.On the blue rug in the press area inside the NASA habisphere on Ellesmere Island, Administrator Lawrence Ekstrom was seated at the center of the long symposium table, flanked by top NASA officials and scientists. On a large monitor facing them the Presidents open ing description was being piped in live. The remainder of the NASA crew was huddled around other monitors, teeming with excitement as their commander-in-chief launched into his press conference.Good evening, Herney was saying, sounding uncharacteristically stiff. To my fellow countrymen, and to our friends around the world Ekstrom gazed at the huge charred mass of shudder displayed prominently in front of him. His eyes moved to a understudy monitor, where he watched himself, flanked by his most austere personnel, against a backdrop of a huge American flag and NASA logo. The dramatic lighting made the position look like some kind of neomodern painting-the twelve apostles at the last supper. Zach Herney had turned this whole thing into a political sideshow. Herney had no choice. Ekstrom still felt like a televangelist, packaging God for the masses.