Read Online Game of Drones by Rick Jones, Rick Chesler - Free Book Online Page A

head.”
    “But they had to know al-Qaeda would get involved, yes?”
    “Of course, Sir.”
    “Then get on the phone or the video line and push back. Tell them that we need Zawahiri in our custody and we need them to stop playing games.”
    “Very well, Mr. President.”
    Carmichael eyeballed his table monitor, where a list of key points now magically waited to trigger his impromptu agenda. He supposed Wilcox, his DNI man, put them there earlier when he was afraid he might be unsure how to proceed. The president noted with grim satisfaction that he'd already addressed what Wilcox saw as the number one point--al-Zawahiri. With Manetti now tasked with acting on that, he moved down a progressively unpleasant bulleted list.
    “I assume that Shazad has yet to call in his demands? Which we anticipate to be the release of Zawahiri?”
    Simon fielded this. “No demands yet, Mr. President. It’s our belief that Aasif Shazad is flexing his muscles to demonstrate to us--and the world--that he’s on top.”
    President Carmichael closed his eyes and inwardly cringed. Shazad was sitting at the top of the food chain defecating on the U.S. with malicious amusement. Meanwhile it was he--the POTUS--who was relegated to a godforsaken hole in the ground, hiding in a fucking cave like bin Laden had been forced to do when the U.S. had relentlessly pursued him in the wake of nine-eleven. How quickly the tables have turned .
    He consulted the flip screen again. “What about the media?” Jesus.
    This time it was Cayne who spoke. “Right now, as they usually do, the news outlets have taken the material we gave them and are running wild with all manner of speculation. Some of the more informed of this holds that the JBAB and the senator’s plane may have been targets of terrorism connected to Zawahiri's capture, but then in the same breath they report how the two events may well be unrelated.”
    “And the state of the citizenry?”
    “They’re scared, Mr. President,” Wilcox said with rigid certainty. “Airspace is closed nationwide, which is only fueling the media's speculative fires. And word may be leaking to the press from credible sources that the attack on the JBAB was at the hands of terrorists, domestic or otherwise. Again, everything is pure conjecture at this point.”
    He hesitated a moment before continuing. “But in the end, you know the truth will come out . . . It could be like nine-eleven all over again.”
    “Which is why I want the Press Secretary to move on this and engage the country with nominal facts about the JBAB. Although I want the nation to prepare itself, I don’t want the people to feel as though the situation is hopeless or unmanageable."
    Carmichael held his breath, silently daring any of his people to utter the question that threatened to burst through his own skull: Isn't it, though? He went on before someone could ask it. "We will ride out this storm, people. I promise you that.”
    He scowled at his flip screen as he fell back into his seat, and then looked at the Director of the FBI with a sidelong glance. After a period of silence, he asked him a single question:
    “Have you spoken with Jenifer Rimaldi concerning your position in this matter?”
    “I have, Mr. President.”
    “And? Since this falls under your purview...”
    Carmichael meant to put Director Casey on the spot, but instead he looked like a man with an ace up his sleeve. A sly grin formed on his face as he answered. “I’m assuming, Mr. President, that I'll be given the wherewithal to utilize whatever resources are necessary to get us out of this mess?”
    President Carmichael gave him a sharp look that said: of course , before articulating his thoughts openly. “ Carte blanche , John. You use whatever is available. When it comes to national security on this threat, then you--and this goes for anyone else sitting at this table-- draw upon whatever it is you have at your fingertips, as long as it spells out success.”
    John