Read Online High Treason by John Gilstrap - Free Book Online

could never have enough information, and information was what Security Solutions specialized in.
    Those were the very sorts of investigations that bored Jonathan Grave to the point of misery. His passion lay exclusively with the unspoken, covert part of the company’s operations—the part about which even his most experienced investigators—employees who had been with him for years—knew nothing. Jonathan was reasonably sure they suspected, but they all knew to keep their mouths shut and to not ask questions.
    Jonathan’s 0300 missions—hostage rescue missions, in the parlance of the Unit, with which he’d served for many years—were run out of the Cave, the half of the third floor to which only a handful of people had access, and which was guarded 24/7 by retired military policemen whose longtime specialty was convincing people to stay out of places where they did not belong. Building security had been heightened enormously after an unfortunate incident several years ago when an intruder had been able to make his way inside and nearly killed Jonathan’s most valued employee.
    This evening, Jonathan sat with Boxers and Venice Alexander in the War Room, the Cave’s high-tech teak conference room, talking through this business about the First Lady, trying to cobble together some semblance of a plan.
    Jonathan had known Venice Alexander (it’s pronounced Ven-EE-chay) since she was a little girl, the daughter of his family’s lead housekeeper. Separated in age by an improper number of years when he was in his teens, he’d enjoyed the crush she’d had on him, and he’d been moved by the emotion she’d shown on the day he moved out.
    While Jonathan was off saving the world in the United States Army, Venice had become something of a wizard—and, strictly speaking, a criminal—in things computer related. In the early days of Security Solutions, as soon as it became apparent that advanced computer skills were needed, Venice had been Jonathan’s first choice. Now, she pretty much ran the place, stimulating ones and zeroes to accomplish amazing feats.
    “I don’t understand why there’s been no ransom demand,” Venice said. She looked like she wanted to be typing something on her terminal, but was frustrated that she didn’t know what to type.
    “And no announcement to the media,” Boxers added. “If this was a bunch of terrorists, it seems to me that they’d be all over the airwaves announcing their prize.”
    “I agree on both counts,” Jonathan said. “And those two things together tell me that this isn’t your standard kidnapping.”
    “Did the White House people give you any theories at all?”
    Jonathan shook his head. “No. In fact, they seemed sort of intent on not going there.”
    Venice cocked her head.
    Jonathan elaborated. “Call it intuition. They want us to do our own legwork. I don’t know why.”
    “Didn’t you say they promised to share all the intel they gathered?”
    Boxers chuckled. “Promises from a politician. Now there’s something to take to the bank.”
    “Ven, I know you must have done some research since our phone conversation,” Jonathan said. “What have you come up with?”
    She beamed. Finally, a chance to play with the computer. “Let’s start with the troubling details,” she said. “In the aftermath of nine-eleven, you can’t scratch your ear or pick your nose in Washington without it being recorded by a camera. But guess what.”
    Jonathan was way ahead. “None of the cameras near the Wild Times Bar were working.”
    “Right. Now, that could be a coincidence—”
    “But I don’t believe in those,” Jonathan finished for her.
    “Exactly.”
    “I sense that you have a theory,” Jonathan said.
    Venice’s smile grew larger. “Look at the big screen.” Her fingers worked the keys. At the far end of the rectangular conference room, an enormous television screen came to life. There was no sound, but the images showed a list of news stories from