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Sam hung up.

“Well?” prodded Clark immediately.

“He’s definitely not involved and is coming here to pick us up and escort Charles and myself to meet with the President.”

“Holy shit!” exclaimed Clark, smiling as the tension of their current predicament began to ease.

“What about Lawson?” asked the Senator, not really having registered what had just been said. His mind was racing.

“Oh sorry, when you guys fell asleep last night, I went out and caught a guy that had followed us. Creepy little bastard.”

Both looked at him in horror.

“Anyway, turns out that was who he worked for, James Lawson.”

“Worked for?”

“Yeah.”

“Worked, you said ‘worked’, in the past tense?” quizzed Clark.

“Yes, past tense, dead guys don’t work,” said Sam matter-of-factly, ending that point of discussion.

“James Lawson is perhaps one of the most influential men in Washington, if not
the
most influential.”

“Good for him and trust me, we will soon be referring to him in the past tense too.”

“That’s not my point. My point is if he’s involved, there is literally nobody in Washington we can go to. Nobody would be where they are if Lawson had not had a hand in it.”

“What exactly did the Secretary of Defense say?” Clark’s initial enthusiasm had significantly waned.

“Trust me, he knew nothing. He was absolutely stunned at what’s happened.”

“And you gave him this address?”

“I trust the man!” Sam ended the discussion by walking towards the window.

The US Secretary of Defense replaced the receiver and just stared at it. Either Sam Baker had gone mad or his country had. There was no other explanation. What Sam had described did not happen in the world’s most democratic country. The United States of America was not some tin-pot dictatorship where, if you didn’t like the opposition, you just took them out.

But Sam Baker was the most honorable man he had ever met. If he ever had to have somebody watch his back, Sam Baker would be top of the list every time. There was nobody more reliable and he certainly didn’t sound mad.

His first call was to Fort Belvoir and the commanding officer of the 701st Military Police Group. He was not going to take any chances. The 701st was home to the US Army’s Protective Services Battalion. Their role was similar to that of the Secret Service, only their protectees were military: - the Secretary of Defense, the Under Secretary of Defense and the Chairman and Vice Chairman of the Joint Chiefs, along with many other high risk individuals within the military.

His second call was to the Oval Office. Despite being only 7.00 am, he knew the President’s private secretary would be up and taking calls. He was right and he made it clear that he would be with the President within the hour and insisted his diary be cleared as a matter of national security. Such a request by one of the President’s most senior and trusted staff ensured instant compliance. Accordingly, the President’s meetings were cleared between 8.00 and 9.00.

Fifteen minutes after his call to the 701st, the door bell rang. Showered and dressed, the Secretary of Defense opened the door to two fully loaded Humvees and an armored limousine, all with blue lights flashing and a total of ten men. All, as he knew from experience, were battle hardened. He checked his watch, 7.30 am and with the lights and sirens, they could make Georgetown in a little over 25 minutes, even at that time of the day.

It had not been Vice President Russell’s best night’s sleep by a long way. Between the nuclear threat to America and the failure to deal with Senator Baker and his brother, it had quite possibly been one of the shittiest nights of his life. He just hoped that the ringing phone would bring some good news. So far, everything had succeeding in trumping previous disastrous news.

“Russell!” he answered.

“Mr Vice President, this is Nancy.”

Russell instantly recognized the old bag who looked after the President’s calendar. She loved the power and was desperate to remain in post under Russell. Not a chance, there would be a very attractive young piece of fluff adorning his office, not a miserable old dragon who had lost the ability to smile at birth.

“Hi Nancy, how can I help?”

“Well, the other day, you mentioned you’d like to be informed of anything out of the ordinary.”

Nancy was staking her claim and showing she was loyal.

“Yes!”

The longer Nancy spoke, the harder he found it to breathe. This was disastrous. It took all his strength to thank Nancy before hanging up.

It was 7.20 am and the Secretary of Defense was going to see the President any time between 8.00 and 9.00 as a matter of national security. Nothing new had happened overnight, of that he was sure. The Deputy Secretary of Defense was on top of everything and he was Russell’s man. That could only mean one thing, Sam Baker had reached out to the man he knew was senior enough to make an impact and most importantly, knew he could trust. They all knew it was a risk but as Sam was supposed to have been the first to die, it had been ruled out as an issue.

Russell considered calling Preston but there was nothing he could do, likewise, Gates. He hit the speed dial button for the Head of the CIA. When it came down to it and you needed some real sneaky bastards, there was nobody better.

“Allan, we’ve got a problem,” he opened.

“Already taken care of,” came the very calm response.

“You don’t even know what it is yet?”

“I was just about to call you. I received a call from a friend over at Fort Belvoir, a little while ago,” The conspiratorial tone of his voice came over loud and clear.

“And?”

“The Secretary of Defense requested two fully loaded Humvees and his Armored limo to take him to see the President, with a pick up on the way…” Johnson paused.

Russell’s frustration was growing. “You know where the pick-up is and you can beat them to it?”

“Nope, not a clue.”

“So how in the hell is it sorted?”

Russell could hear the smile down the phone line. “The Humvees are loaded with my men. Eight fully armed. The Secretary will have his two normal bodyguards in his limo but that’s it, the rest of the men are ours!”

Russell smiled for what seemed the first time in days as he replaced the handset.

Rebecca looked at her watch when she heard the front door close two storeys below her. It was 6.35 am. She watched as the property owners got into their cars and drove off. Both, she noted, had failed to do as instructed and looked back as they drove away. Fortunately, the blinds were still closed in the windows opposite. She had dozed on and off for the last few hours as it became apparent that her potential target had gone to bed.

The owners leaving had woken Rebecca from her dozing. Now fully awake, she turned her attention to the house directly opposite. She was looking for any movement and ideally just the faintest glimpse of the Senator would do. Once confirmed, she would call Ben and do whatever needed to be done.

Rebecca did not have long to wait for movement. Five minutes later, the blinds changed as a light inside the house backlit their blackness. The lines of light did nothing other than confirm that there was somebody inside. It was still forty minutes until sunrise and Rebecca predicted the blinds would stay shut until then. Why open blinds when it was still dark? She took the gamble, visited the restroom and grabbed a quick bite to eat. She did all that in semi darkness so as not to alert anybody to her presence.

By the time she was back, the third storey window had not changed. The blinds remained closed and the light on. The first wisps of sunlight began to break through and Rebecca stared intently. Even the slightest view of the Senator was all she needed. She had studied many photos sent over by Ben over the last few hours and knew many of the Senator’s distinguishing features. It was 7.40 when the first movement of the blinds paid any dividends. The sun’s rays had slowly multiplied until it could be said that daylight had broken. The blinds parted and a face appeared. Rebecca instinctively ducked back but the face across from her looked up and down the street, not up and across to a third storey window opposite. The face was not the Senator, most definitely not, it was a female.

Clark checked up and down the street and shook her head. There was still no sign of the Secretary of Defense.

“I told you, he won’t be here until nearer 8.00,” said Sam. “Now will you please come back here and relax,” he pleaded pointing to the seat next to his brother.

“I just don’t get it,” said the Senator, returning to the previous conversation with Sam. “I don’t understand what I have done to piss off James Lawson so much that he’d want
me
and for that matter you and your family dead?”

“You’re running against his boy?” suggested Sam.

“Most of Washington are his boys. He doesn’t need Russell in power that much. It has to be more than that, surely?”

“You know what they say, power corrupts and absolute power corrupts absolutely,” offered Clark taking her seat next to the Senator.

“Very true,” pondered the Senator.

“But what if the President is involved?” asked Clark suddenly, the thought just popping into her mind.

Both Bakers turned and looked at each other. The thought, stupidly, had not crossed their minds.

“We think Russell is. If the Vice President is, why not the President?” continued Clark, thinking out loud.

“Jesus!” exclaimed Sam. A noise at the window caught his attention and he got up to check.

“Exactly. And whether Murphy is on our side or not, if the President wants us dead, we’re as good as dead,” added the Senator, standing up to see what had caught his brother’s attention.

“For Christ’s sake, get away from the window!” Sam waved wildly at his brother to sit back down.

Rebecca watched as the man walked towards her, his features were similar to what she was looking for but unless the Senator had lost 30lbs, five years and had seriously manned up in the last twenty-four hours, it was somebody else. But that somebody else was certainly from the same family. She looked at the info on the Senator, compiled by Mossad and their
Sayanim
. It was at least as detailed as anything available in the US and perhaps even more so. Rebecca looked up and confirmed it. The man in front of her was Sam Baker, although her records suggested it wasn’t possible. He had been dead for over three years – just about the time the house she was watching had been purchased.

It was Sam’s waving behind him that had caught Rebecca’s attention. She followed the hands and caught the only glimpse she needed. She withdrew her phone and made the call she had been 95% certain she could have made five hours earlier.

The call was answered instantly.

“I’ve found him!” said Rebecca.

“Kill him!” was the automatic response before the line went dead.

“Jesus, there are people trying to kill you Charles!” said Sam as he checked the street and saw the two Humvees and a limo pull to a stop at the door.

“Sorry, I wasn’t thinking!”

“Well, they’re here, so what are we doing? Do we trust the President or not?” asked Sam, as he watched Defense Secretary Murphy exit the limo and make his way towards the house with his two bodyguards.

Clark nodded. She did.

“Forgive me,” offered the Senator. “But as you have sworn an oath to give your life for the man, I’m afraid you’re ruled out of this vote of confidence.”

Clark shrugged her acceptance.

The door bell rung below.

“Well?” asked Sam.

Clark walked towards the window and watched as the Humvees emptied their eight operatives, all heavily armed and obviously with no intention of anything other than storming the house.

“I’m going to change my vote,” she said moving quickly from the window and drawing her pistol.

“Shit,” Sam caught sight of the action below and instantly realized he had been right about one thing. He could trust the Secretary of Defense. Otherwise, he most certainly would not be standing like a lame duck with his two bodyguards ringing the doorbell.

Sam bound down the stairs, swung the door open and literally pulled the Secretary of Defense off of his feet and through the doorway, slamming the door behind him. The two bodyguards barely had time to react to the abduction of their boss before both were struck by a hail of bullets from the eight men closing in on the house.

“What the…?!!” screamed the Secretary before the bullets began thudding around him.

Sam threw the Secretary on the floor and instinctively jumped on top. As the first volley paused, Sam was up and dragging the Secretary up the staircase, grabbing his holdall as he went.

As Rebecca stepped out of the house opposite, the limo and Humvees came screaming round the bend. She pushed her silenced pistol further into her coat pocket and contemplated stepping back inside but as she had already shut the door and heard the lock click, her fate was sealed. In order to stall until they passed, Rebecca fumbled in her pocket. To any passer-by she would look just like a woman who had forgotten her phone or keys. All that changed as the scene before her unfolded. The limo stopped and the instantly recognizable Secretary of Defense, James Murphy, stepped out of the limo. The Secretary was a staunch ally of Israel and Rebecca knew he was a personal and trusted friend of Ben Meir.