“Holly, give the radio back to my agent.”
She handed him the radio and waited while he listened, then put the radio back on his belt. “You’re cleared to see the first lady, ma’am,” he said, stepping aside.
Holly ran down the hall to the master bedroom and knocked on the door. It was answered by a maid.
“Yes, ma’am?”
“I’d like to see the first lady at once,” Holly said.
“I’m sorry, ma’am, but she’s in the bath.”
Holly shoved the woman aside and went for the bath. She opened the door without knocking, stepped into the bathroom, and saw, clearly, the president of the United States and the first lady in the shower together.
“I apologize for the intrusion,” Holly shouted over the noise of the running water, “but this can’t wait!”
53
Kate Lee sat in a terry-cloth hotel robe and listened to Holly’s story. “Hamish’s middle name is Algernon,” Holly said.
Kate looked stunned. “This doesn’t seem possible.”
“Ma’am, Hamish recruited—or at least, assigned—Wynken, Blynken, and Nod. All the e-mails the NSA and the Brits intercepted originated from him. We’ve got to interrogate him at once.” Holly held out the cell phone to her.
Kate took the phone. “Tom? It’s Kate Lee.”
Nothing.
“The phone’s dead,” Kate said.
Holly took it from her and redialed the number.
“Tom Riley.”
“Tom, we got cut off. Here’s the director.” She handed the phone back to Kate.
“Tom, it’s Kate Lee. You recognize my voice?”
“Yes, Director.”
“Carry out Holly’s instructions and report back to her at every stage of the operation. Get the two men to that air force base in the Midlands and on an airplane to Guantanamo. The brothers are to be isolated from each other and everyone else. Am I clear?”
“Absolutely clear, ma’am.”
“Good-bye. Let us hear from you.”
“Yes, ma’am.” Riley hung up.
Kate handed back the phone to Holly. “I hope this is productive,” she said, “because, believe me, this is going to come back and bite me on the ass. Probably the president, too.”
“You can always blame me,” Holly said. “I’ve still got my army pension.”
“I hope you won’t need it,” Kate said. “Can my husband and I get dressed now?”
Holly turned red. “I’m so sorry, ma’am.”
“What do you want to bet this makes his memoirs?”
“Oh, God, I hope not.”