Joe Levy said nothing. That was another thing about being at the top of the pyramid. Only heaven could argue with you.
“Luke and Cotton need to know what’s going on,” she said. “I was just about to make a call.”
She’d replaced her damaged cell phone with one of two backups she always kept on hand, this one stashed at her house.
“In a minute. First, we have to talk. That’s why I’m here instead of sleepin’.” Daniels faced the Treasury secretary and pointed a finger. “I asked you for a simple thing. Some information on a relatively obscure subject. Next thing I know you’re running an international investigation, outside the grid, risking assets who don’t even work for you. I’m going to want to know why. Are you going to have answers?”
“Of course, whatever you want.”
“Really? Whatever I want? The first question is going to be why you didn’t tell me the truth to start with.”
Levy said nothing.
“Mr. President,” Harriett said. “I thought Congress was dysfunctional, but this is right up there with their antics.”
“Now, that could be construed as downright insulting,” Danny said. “But I understand. This is your first foray into the intelligence business … from the executive branch’s side of the table. It’s a mite different here. We don’t have the luxury, as congressional committees do, of Monday-morning quarterbacking. We’re on the field, in play, as it happens, and we have to make this stuff up as we go.”
“A game plan is always preferred,” Stephanie added.
The president said, “Joe, go get your warrants. I have to talk to these two ladies alone.” He paused. “Then you and I’ll have that chat.”
The secretary left the room.
“He’s a businessman,” the president muttered, once the door closed. “Knows nothing about intelligence work.”
“But you do,” Stephanie said. “And you’re in charge.”
Only she could get away with pressing him that far. A while back, during another critical operation, they’d both discovered feelings for the other. One of those unexpected revelations that they’d wisely kept to themselves. The Daniels’ marriage was over, and had been for some time, existing only as a public illusion. No anger or bitterness lingered on anyone’s part, just a realization that once his second term ended, Danny Daniels would be single. Then things might change between them.
But not until.
“It is my fault,” he said. “But Cotton’s okay, right?”
She nodded. “Can’t say the same for the $20 million and the nine other men who died.”
“I’ve only been told in the last couple of hours that we knew Kim was going to make a move on that money. Joe decided to keep that tidbit to himself. You should have been advised as to all the risks.”
“Why weren’t we?” Harriett asked.
“Now, that’s the rub. I think Stephanie was right. It may actually have been deliberate on Joe’s part.”
The admission surprised her.
“What’s Kim after?” Stephanie asked.
“It’s complicated.”
“That’s what Joe kept repeating,” Harriett said.
Stephanie pointed to the printed pages on the table. “Have you read The Patriot Threat?”
“Every word, and the author is no idiot.”
“He’s a convicted tax evader,” Harriett said.
“That he is. But some of what he says makes sense.”
The president reached inside his jacket and produced a dollar bill, which he laid on the table. “Look on the back.”
Stephanie flipped the bill over.
Lines appeared on the obverse of the Great Seal.
“I drew those,” the president said.
She studied the six-pointed star. “What’s the significance?”
“Check out the letters where the triangles form.”
She did.
A S O N M.
“It’s an anagram,” the president noted. “For the word Mason.”
“You’re not seriously thinking Freemasons are involved here,” Harriett said. “How many times have we heard that they’re secretly controlling this country. That’s utter nonsense.”
“I agree. But the word Mason is formed from the joining of those letters. That’s a fact. Which, coincidentally, also forms a six-pointed-star.”
“Or a Star of David,” Stephanie muttered.
“Heck of a coincidence, wouldn’t you say?”
“How would you have known to do this?” Stephanie asked.
“Those classified papers Paul Larks copied. They mention another dollar bill with lines on it. Larks talked of a bill like that to Kim and Howell.”
“And how do you know that?” she asked.
“Yesterday I read those classified papers Treasury is holding, the ones Larks copied. The NSA also provided me transcripts of conversations between Kim and Howell. Contrary to what Joe Levy thinks, I’m neither in the dark nor an idiot.”
But she was still puzzled. “What’s this about?”
“A few months ago I received a letter from a prominent Jewish organization. It dealt with a man named Haym Salomon. Do either of you know the name?”
Neither she nor Harriett did.
So he told them.