18
By the time the president's staff moved into action, every major news network was running with the story—hard. The look on the president's face as he stared across his desk at the chief of staff was not a happy one.
"Damn it, Andy. What the hell is going on? I thought the FBI had this thing under control."
"Yes, sir, that's what the director said."
President Harris pointed at the flat-panel television screen. "Does that look like things are under control? Get him on the phone."
"Yes, sir." The chief of staff turned and disappeared through the doorway.
Within a minute, he returned. "Director Hammond is on the line now, sir."
President Harris picked up the handset. "Bill, didn't you just brief me yesterday morning that you would soon have the Los Alamos situation back under control?"
"Yes, Mr. President. We’re not sure that this news story is related to Jonathan Riles' rogue team that is still out there—"
"Horseshit! That man Gregory has been orchestrating things since Admiral Riles committed suicide. He did the hit on the truck. Now he’s led a reporter to something that’s going to give us trouble."
"I just don't think we can leap to that conclusion."
The president's voice hardened. "Bill, you’re out of time. I want the rogue agents taken down. Now. Are the plans in place?"
"Yes, sir. We identified Gregory's last three team members last night. We already have a joint FBI and ATF taskforce in place."
"Good. As soon as they’re ready, do it. I want to be watching the evening news tonight and see the story of the takedown. Maybe it’ll get some of this other stuff off the air for a while."
“Yes, sir, Mr. President. I’ll take care of it.”
As soon as the FBI director had hung up, President Harris buzzed his secretary. "James, get Dr. Stephenson from Los Alamos National Laboratory on the phone. Tell him to make himself available by phone for my nine a.m. cabinet meeting. And yes, I know what time it is in New Mexico. Get him out of bed if you have to."
"Yes, sir."
Setting the phone back in its cradle, the president grabbed the remote control and turned up the volume on the news. He wanted to hear it all. In his experience, the old saying was dead on. Bad news certainly didn't improve with age.