None of them answered, even with a nod.
Finn shrugged, took it as an affirmative. Then he set the cylinders in one of the big leather chairs, strode to the hall and disappeared into the den. Twenty seconds passed. They heard keystrokes and a few mouse clicks. Travis pictured the computer screen as it’d been when they left the room. Garner’s e-mail program was open, all passwords already entered. Finn could access everything.
They heard him curse softly, and a second later he came back out, holding the cordless phone from the cradle on the computer desk. He looked at Garner.
“The e-mail you sent to coordinate the conference call mentions me by name.”
“Does it?” Garner said.
Finn stared at him for a long time, then turned and looked at nothing, and Travis could see him putting together the implications. He didn’t look happy about them. He glanced at his watch.
“The call starts in six minutes,” Finn said. He looked at Garner again. “When it does, you’re going to join it and tell everyone to disregard the message you sent them. Tell them the situation is already being handled higher up, and not to worry about it.”
Garner didn’t reply. Five seconds passed.
“Do you understand?” Finn said.
Garner exhaled, the sound almost a laugh. “If you think I’m going to do that just because you say so, you’re high. Go ahead and shoot us. I’m sure the five people on that conference call, and all their secretaries and staffs, won’t think it’s the least bit suspicious when they read that I got killed a few minutes before it was scheduled to happen. I’m sure your name being in the e-mail won’t bring any unwanted attention onto you, either.”
Finn didn’t blink, but his eyes drew a third of the way closed. He was thinking again. Visualizing moves and countermoves on the chessboard.
Then he nodded. “Fair enough.”
He looked at Garner’s phone and punched in a number. Put it to his ear. Waited. When the other party answered, Finn said, “We’re here,” and described the situation regarding the conference call. He wandered away down the hall as he spoke. Travis heard him say, “No, the e-mail doesn’t go into detail, but it names both you and me, which isn’t helpful.” The conversation continued in low tones Travis couldn’t make out.
The nearby wall clock showed four minutes left before the conference call.
Finn came back into the room. He was holding the phone down away from his ear now. Its power light was still on. He looked at Garner.
“It’s on speaker,” Finn said, and then spoke toward the phone’s mouthpiece. “Go ahead.”
A man on the phone cleared his throat softly. Even by that sound Travis recognized his voice.
“President Garner,” the man said.
“President Currey,” Garner said.
Travis heard Currey exhale. He sounded tired. “Rich, what are you trying to do?”
“I’d like to hear your own answer to that question.”
“That would take more time than we have. Why don’t you take some advice from an old friend and fall in line here, all right? Get on the conference call and say you jumped the gun, and that it’s all good. It’s the only move you’ve got, anyway.”
“I don’t know about that,” Garner said. “I was thinking I might just stand here and watch the minute hand tick a few times. If I don’t show up on the call, that in itself raises a few flags. I don’t imagine you and your people want any flags going up, if you expect to keep whatever you’re doing secret for another four months.”
Travis saw something flicker through Finn’s expression at that line. Something like amusement. It vanished as quickly as it’d appeared.
“Here’s your problem,” Currey said. “From this point forward, your goal is to build a base of support against us. To do that, you need to convince rational people of something no rational person can believe without proof. If you had one of the cylinders, it’d be easy for you. You could show people what’s on the other side. But you’ve lost that advantage now. So who’s going to believe you? It won’t carry much weight that you’re a former president, when the people contradicting your claim include the sitting president and his entire cabinet, among many others.”
Travis watched the resolve fade from Garner’s eyes. Watched something darker take its place.
“It’s over, Rich,” Currey said. “All that’s left is to acknowledge it. And the sooner, the better—at least for you. We’d be happy to leave you alone, once you’ve cooperated. It’s not in our interests to stir up any headlines just now.”
Garner looked at Paige, right beside him, then at Bethany and Travis.