Why Did International Crises Seem So Much More Manageable Than This? Because The Ramifications Were So Severe? Because There Were Two Or More Sides Where No One Really Wanted To Pull The Trigger? If That Were True, Then She Really Wasn’t A Peacemaker. She Was Simply A Medium, Like A Telephone Or Even One Of Her Father’s Movies. She May Have Come From The Land Of Gandhi But Was Nothing Like Him. Nothing.
They Turned A Corner And Approached The Door To The Infirmary. Enzo Slipped Ahead Of The Secretary-General And Opened It For Her. Chatterjee Walked In. She Stopped Abruptly. Two Emt’s Were Lying On The Floor In The Reception Area. The Attending Nurse Was Also Lying On The Floor, In The Doctor’s Office. So Were A Pair Of Security Guards. Enzo Ran To The Nearest Bodies.
There Were Spots Of Blood On The Tile. The Technicians Were Alive But Unconscious, Evidently From Blows To The Head. The Nurse Was Also Unconscious.
There Were No Tears In Their Clothes, No Indication That There Had Been A Struggle.
There Was No Trace Of The Handcuffs And No Sign Of Georgiev. As Chatterjee Took A Moment To Process What Had Happened, There Was Only One Conclusion To Be Drawn: That Someone Had Been Here Waiting.
New York, New York Saturday, 11:57 P.M.
Hood Called Bob Herbert And Told Him To Get Them Chatterjee’s Mobile Phone Number. While Hood Held The Line, Rodgers Bound Ani Hampton To Her Chair. He Used Black Electrical Tape He’d Found In The Supply Closet To Tie Her Left Wrist To The Armrest. There Had Been Packaging Twine On The Shelf, But Using Tape Was A Habit From Field Interrogations: It Didn’t Leave Marks Or Tear The Skin, And It Was Tougher To Work Lose. Rodgers Had Also Found Several Handguns And Other Cia Field Gear In The Closet.
The Guns Were Locked In A Metal Gun Rack. After Binding Ani, Rodgers Took The Key Case From Her Blazer, Which Was Hanging In The Closet. Cia Regulations Required That Whoever Was In Charge Of A Shell Have Access To The “Selfdefense Matbriel.” Rodgers Found The Key That Unlocked The Rack And Took A Pair Of Berettas For Himself And Another Pair For August. Each Handgun Held A Clip With A Fifteen-Shell Capacity. He Also Grabbed A Pair Of Point-To-Point Radios Along With A Brick Of C-4 And Detonators. He Put The Explosives In A Foam-Lined Backpack And Slung It Over One Shoulder. It Wasn’t The Usual Striker Kitnight Vision Glasses And Uzis Would Be Ideal-But It Would Have To Do. He Hoped He Didn’t Need Any Of These, But He Wanted To Be Prepared For The Worst.
Upon Returning To The Office, Rodgers Looked Down At Ani. “If You Cooperate, I’ll Help You When We Get Out Of Here.” She Didn’t Respond.
“Do You Understand?” Rodgers Pressed.
“I Understand,” She Said Without Looking Up. After Handing August His Guns, Rodgers Took The Colonel’s Arm. He Led Him To Where Hood Was Standing, Still Holding The Phone. “What’s Wrong?” August Asked.
“I Don’t Have A Good Feeling About Our Prisoner,” Rodgers Said Quietly.
“Why?” Hood Asked.
“In A Few Minutes, She’s Going To Have Us By The Short Hairs,” Rodgers Said.
“Suppose Chatterjee Calls The Terrorists For Us. Then This Woman Refuses To Back Up The Lie.
Where Are We Then?” “I’d Say Pretty Much Where We Are Now,” August Told Him. “Not Exactly,” Rodgers Said. “The Terrorists Will Have Been Attacked And Then Lied To. They’re Going To Want To Hit Back.
Shoot A Hostage As Scheduled And Add Another As Payback.” “Are You Saying We Shouldn’t Do This?” Hood Asked.
“No, I Don’t Think We Have A Choice,” Rodgers Said. “Because, If Nothing Else, We Can Buy Ourselves A Few Extra Minutes.” “For What?” Hood Asked.
“To Take Control Of This Situation,” Rodgers Said.
“To Launch A Bottleneck Operation.” August Seemed Pleased.
Hood Shook His Head. “With What Kind Of Force?” He Asked. “The Pair Of You?” “It Can Work,” Rodgers Told Him.
“I Repeat-With Just Two Soldiers?” Hood Asked. “In Theory, Yes,” Rodgers Said.
Hood Didn’t Seem Happy With That Answer.
“We’ve Run Simulations,” Rodgers Went On.
“Brett Has Drilled For This.” “Mike,” Hood Said, “Even If You Can Get In There, The Hostages Are Going To Be Extremely Vulnerable.” “Like I Said, What Do You Think Is Going To Happen If Our Lady Friend Here Turns On Us?” Rodgers Asked. “We’ve Got Human Gunpowder In A Keg, And We’re Applying A Match. The Terrorists Are Going To Blow.” Hood Had To Admit That Rodgers Had A Point. He Looked At His Watch.
“Bob?” He Said Into The Phone. “I’m Here,” Said Herbert: “What’s Happening With The Phone Number?” “The State Department Still Only Has The Number For Secretary-General Manni, If You Can Believe It. I’ve Got Darrell Working On Getting The Number Through Interpol And Matt Trying To Hack It,” Herbert Said. “I’m Betting On Matt Getting It First At This Point. Another Minute Or Two.” “Bob, We’re Measuring Time In Seconds,” Hood Said. “Understood,” Herbert Replied.
Hood Looked At Rodgers. “How Do You Both Get Inside?” “Only Colonel August Has To Go In,” Rodgers Continued. “I’ll Take The Base Position, Which Will Be Outside The Security Council.” He Looked At August. “The Entrance To The Un Garage Is Located On The, Northeast Side Of The Compound, Down A Flight Of Stairs That Are On A Direct Line From The Front Door Of This Building. That’s Where You Get In.” “How Do You Know The Garage Will Be Open?” Hood Asked. “It Was Open When I Came Here,” Rodgers Said, “And They’re Obviously Keeping It That Way In Case They Want To Move Personnel Or Equipment In. The Terrorists Might Hear The Sound Of A Big Door Like That Shutting And Then Opening. It Could Tip Them Off, If Something Were Up.” That Was A Good Point, Hood Thought. “There Probably Won’t Be Any Security Personnel In The Rose Garden Leading To The Garage,” Rodgers Said To August. “They’ll Keep The Perimeter Itself Guarded To Maximize Manpower. If There Are Choppers, You’ll Have Sufficient Cover Under The Bushes Or Statues. Once You Get Through The Park And Into The Garage, Your Only Problem Will Be The Corridor Between The Elevator And The Security Council. According To The Blueprints, The Elevator Shaft Lets Off About Fifty Feet Down The Main Corridor From The Security Council.” “Isn’t That A Big Problem?” Hood Asked.
“Not Really,” August Said. “I Can Cover Fifty Feet Pretty Quick. I’ll Bowl People Down If I Have To. Surprise Works Against Your Own People, Too.” “What If The Security Personnel Fire At You?” Hood Asked. “I Heard Foreign Accents On Our Little Bug,” August Said. “I’m Sure There Are Un Personnel I Can Use As A Shield. Once I Get Inside The Security Council, It Doesn’t Matter What They Do.” “It’s Still An Extra Impediment,” Hood Said.
“Maybe We Can Convince Chatterjee To Help Us, If It Comes To That,” August Suggested. “If The Lie About The Ransom Doesn’t Work, I Doubt She’ll Go With A Second Lie,” Hood Said. “Diplomats Who Were Never Soldiers Don’t Understand The Quicksilver Nature Of Warfare.” “She May Not Have A Choice By That Time,” Rodgers Said. “Colonel August Will Be Inside.” “Who Do You Think Will Be Watching The Garage Door?” August Asked Rodgers.
“They’re Probably Letting The Nypd Take Charge Of That,” Rodgers Said. “Most Of The Un Police Are Probably Upstairs.” Bob Herbert Came Back On Then.
Op-Center’s Computer Genius Matt Stoll Had Managed To Pull It From The Restricted Online United Nations Directory Before Darrell Mccaskey Was Able To Get The Number From His Interpol People. Hood Wrote It Down. The Phone Line Wouldn’t Be Secure, But Hood Would Have To Risk It. There Wasn’t Much Time Left.
He Would Have To Risk A Number Of Things, He Decided. He Okayed Rodgers’s Plan And August Left At Once. Hood Punched In The Number. A Man With An Italian Accent Answered.
“This Is The Secretary-General’s Line.” “This Is Paul Hood, The Director Of Op-Center In Washington,” Hood Said. “I Need To Speak With The Secretary-General.” “Mr. Hood, We Have A Situ-Was “I Know!” Hood Snapped. “And We Can Save The Next Victim If We Act Quickly! Put Her On.” “Just A Moment,” The Man Told Him.
Hood Glanced At ,His Watch. Assuming The Terrorists Didn’t Rush The Deadline, There Was Just Over A Minute Left. A Woman Came On The Line.
“This Is Mala Chatterjee.” “Madam Secretary-General, This Is Paul Hood,” He Said. “I’m The Director Of A Crisis Management Team In Washington. One Of The Hostages Is My Daughter.” Hood’s Voice Was Quaking. He Realized That What He Said Now Could Save Or Doom Harleigh. “Yes, Mr. Hood?” “I Need Your Help,” Hood Went On.
“I Need You To Radio The Terrorists And Tell Them That You Have The Money And The Helicopter They’ve Asked For.