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assumed each one marked a bit of evidence that had been found.
    The men in some of the suits clearly represented the FBI. This was not a guess, since they were also wearing their FBI windbreakers. Other jacket and ties beyond that inner circle were members of the Secret Service, this given away by their ear buds and dour expressions as these “outsiders” trod their turf.
    Stone and Chapman walked toward the group of FBI agents. However, before they reached the circle of investigators a tall man intercepted them.
    “Mr. Stone?”
    Stone eyed him. “Yes?”
    “I need you to come with me, sir.”
    “Where?”
    The man pointed directly across the street.
    “The White House? Why?”
    “I believe you know Special Agent Alex Ford. He’s waiting there for you.”
    Stone gazed at Chapman. “She’s with me.”
    The man looked at her. “Agent Chapman?” She nodded. “ID please.”
    She produced it.
    “Let’s go.”
    They were escorted through the front gates, although Chapman had to surrender her gun.
    “I want it back,” she said to the confiscating officer, “in the exact same condition. I’m very partial to that weapon.”
    “Yes ma’am,” responded the man politely.
    They passed by a backhoe and a crew of men in green-and-khaki uniforms who were removing the stump of a tree inside the White House grounds. One of the men winked at Chapman. She scowled in response. As they entered the building and were led down the hall, Chapman whispered, “So this is the White House, eh?”
    “Never been here?” Stone asked.
    “No, you?”
    Stone didn’t answer.
    At that moment Alex Ford stepped from a doorway and joined them. He nodded to the agent escort. “Chuck, I’ve got it. Thanks.”
    “Okay, Alex.” Chuck broke off and headed back the way they had come.
    Stone made introductions and then said, “Why are we here?”
    “I understand you met with Sir James McElroy earlier?” said Alex.
    “ Sir ? He didn’t tell me he’d been knighted.”
    “Didn’t really want it,” remarked Chapman. “But you don’t turn down the queen, now do you?”
    Stone said, “Yes, I met with him.”
    “Just so you know, the decision for you to come back inside has not been very popular with certain other agencies.”
    “Including yours?”
    “And including some other folks here.”
    “Who are we meeting with?”
    “Chief of staff and the VP.”
    “I’m impressed.”
    “I think the VP is there to give it a bit more gravitas.”
    “Have they been fully briefed?”
    “Don’t know. Above my pay grade.”
    They arrived at a door. Alex knocked.
    “Enter,” a voice said.
    “Ready?” said Alex, and Stone nodded.
    Chapman adjusted her cuffs and whipped back a stray bit of hair. She muttered, “What the hell have I got myself into?”
    “I was thinking the same thing,” commented Stone.

CHAPTER 15

    F ROM THE ANTEROOM THEY WERE ADMITTED into the office of the vice president. He was a tall, white-haired and well-fed man with a reassuring smile and a strong handshake, no doubt built up over thousands of campaign stops. The chief of staff was short and wiry with eyes that continually swept the space around him, like a radar array.
    It suddenly occurred to Stone that the VP being here made sense beyond providing gravitas. He was on the president’s National Security Council. Still, Stone was actually surprised the man would agree to meet with him directly and not through an underling. But then again, it was hard to refuse your president.
    The pleasantries were made and quickly dispensed with. Alex Ford stood by the door, a security presence now and not a friend.
    The VP said, “The president asked that we meet with you.” He nodded in Chapman’s direction. “With you both. We obviously want to get to the bottom of this, uh, delicate matter as quickly as possible.”
    In his mind Stone translated this into plain English. What the VP had actually just communicated was, “This is not my idea, and though I’m being