CHAPTER 90
Washington, DC
Inauguration Day
CLUTCHING CUPS OF HOT coffee, Bree, Mahoney, and I hurried into a large briefing room adjacent to the FBI director’s suite of offices and stood at the back.
It was four o’clock in the morning, but despite the early hour, the scene was intense. You could feel energy pulsing off every top law enforcement official involved in security for the swearing in of Susan “Sue” Winter as president of the United States.
U.S. Secret Service special agent in charge Alan Wilson was responsible for the overall detail and he spent the first fifteen minutes reviewing the sequence of the day’s heavily scripted events and describing a few last-minute assignment changes. He stood aside when acting FBI director Marcia Hamilton entered the room, looking very put together and all business.
“Thank you, everyone, for all your efforts so far,” Hamilton said. “Let’s take this day home flawlessly, show the world how the greatest democracy on earth changes hands peacefully, just like the old days.”
A murmur of approval swept around the table.
The acting director went on. “I want to brief you on a credible threat I learned of only four hours ago.”
Every commander at the table straightened.
The acting director nodded, then introduced the three of us and asked Mahoney to bring them up to speed.
More than two and a half days had passed since we’d watched Ryan Malcomb’s wilderness redoubt go up in flames. John Sampson was airlifted to a hospital; Bree and I arrived there two hours later, and after a doctor splinted my ankle, we spent the night and the next day answering questions from a team of RCMP investigators.
We’d been allowed to leave Canada after the U.S. attorney general intervened, and we’d briefed Hamilton on the situation as we flew east. She had asked us to come straight to the meeting when we landed.
Mahoney condensed our history with Maestro, M, and Ryan Malcomb into a ten-minute briefing that included the murders of the potential U.S. Supreme Court nominees, their links to the informal nominating committee, the words of the assassin caught on tape, and our capture and escape from the vigilante group and its leader.
“Where is Malcomb now?” Wilson, the Secret Service commander, asked.
“In the wind with whoever was with him when he escaped,” Mahoney said. “He’s the target of a massive manhunt in British Columbia and Alberta.”
Bree said, “Malcomb’s helicopter was found abandoned one hundred and fifty miles from the mine, and he hasn’t been seen or heard from since. Nor have any of his other operators, some of whom escaped by Sno-Cat.”
Director Hamilton said, “We’re putting Malcomb and his associates at the top of our most-wanted lists effective immediately. Post-inauguration, his capture and the destruction of his vigilante network will be one of our top priorities. But not today, correct, Mahoney?”
“Well, again, we believe that the best thing that can happen today is the seizure and immediate shutdown of Paladin, Malcomb’s data-mining company,” Mahoney said. “If he has remote access to his supercomputers and real-time NSA data, he might already know everything about the inauguration plans, including security details.”
The Secret Service commander shook his head. “But if you shut down Paladin, we won’t have access to the data that we need in real time.”
Hamilton nodded. “I’m ahead of you, Mr. Wilson. After Winter is sworn in, she will be taken to a room in the Capitol, where she will sign a series of national security documents. Among them will be executive orders for the federal seizure of Paladin and the installation of a digital protection system that will keep everyone except U.S. law enforcement out of Paladin.”
Wilson said, “But that doesn’t help us before she’s sworn in.”
“No,” Hamilton allowed. “We’re roughly seven hours from that.”
Chief Barry Thomas with the U.S. Capitol Police said, “But you don’t think Malcomb will try to come here himself, do you?”
“No,” I said, speaking for the first time. “But we believe that if he has the opportunity and capability, he will go on offense.”
Wilson said, “Define offense . Assassination?”
“I have no details, but that’s in the realm of possibility,” I said, and held up my hands at a few grumblings around the table. “Hear me out. During our escape, I asked Malcomb what his endgame was with the murders of the potential Supreme Court nominees.
“He said, and I quote, ‘It was never about the judges we killed. But I can tell you I fully expect the balance of power in the judiciary to change cataclysmically during the inauguration and afterward.’”