Dead Edge: the gripping political thriller for fans of Lee Child. Jack Ford

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СКАЧАТЬ slightly – a lot – Woods growled. ‘And how the hell are we supposed to do that when you want us to release prisoners like white doves at a wedding?’

      ‘Nobody’s saying that. What’s important is the selected few. We need to keep friends with some of these countries. Sometimes we have to realize the prize is bigger than the stake. To release a prisoner, to transfer him back to his own country – even if that prisoner is a major league terrorist – in exchange of vital intel from unusual, uncooperative or even hostile governments is worth it. I know it may stick in our throats, but let it stick. Let it choke, compared to having to stand and watch another 9/11 because we weren’t willing to play the game.’

      ‘This government won’t be blackmailed.’

      ‘Not blackmail, Mr President, just how things need to be done. This is a new era. The Middle East is a complicated animal, and sometimes you need to feed it. Countries such as Qatar, where Bin Hamad is from; as you know, it’s paramount we’re able to maintain good relations so we’re able to keep our military base there. We all know that without it, things would be so much more difficult to monitor. We couldn’t keep an eye on the Gulf, or Iraq and Iran, or the terror groups within them. Not only that, Mr President, but we rely on them to mediate between us and groups like the Taliban. Mr President, I’m advising you as the acting head of the CTC that you shouldn’t rule out the necessity of prisoner release and transfer.’

      ‘Chuck, I respect your knowledge on these matters. But this administration won’t be part of what I see as being complicit in this chess game. We do things properly around here.’

      ‘There’s no such thing as properly when it comes to this country being attacked. Whether it’s from lone suicide bombers, or from more sophisticated assaults… If it were me, Mr President, I’d tear up and throw out all those legislations that go back and forth between you and Congress. There is no rule book anymore. No laws are going to protect you from what’s out there. And believe me, if you don’t, you’re going to regret this.’

      ‘If I didn’t know better, Chuck, that sounds like a threat.’

      ‘A threat? You kidding me? I’m not the one you need to be worrying about. The threats are when everyday folk ride on the subway. When they take their kids to school. When they step onto a plane or train, go to work, or even wait in line to buy groceries. It’s waiting for them. And mainly because it’s getting harder for us to stop it. The explosion of the internet. Encrypted communication, which as a nation we are so behind with; even the terrorists are more advanced than us. And when you add to that the reluctance of a number of Middle Eastern governments to assist, we’ve got a major problem. What it cuts down to is we’re trying to follow leads, prevent and foil attacks, and all without help from your administration. You’re costing lives.’

      ‘You’re talking bull, Chuck.’

      ‘Am I? Am I really? I don’t think so. You know what my idea of bull is? It’s when you won’t release prisoners the CIA are asking you to, because they’re terrorists, yet your administration will sell advanced weaponry to the same countries that these terrorists come from – and not just come from, some of them are even transparently affiliated to the governments of their kingdoms.’

      Woods clenched his teeth, regretted it immediately as his back molar sent out a warning shot.

      He said, ‘That is a different issue.’

      Chuck shook his head. ‘Try telling that to the solider who’s being shot at by terrorists with an advanced weapon. The same advanced weapon sold by the United States government.’

      ‘For God’s sake, Chuck, we don’t sell to terrorists.’

      ‘Agreed. But we do sell to governments who we know sympathize, donate money and weapons to the groups that want to see the West destroyed. And if we’re talking about Qatar, weren’t they the ones who gave Khalid Sheikh Mohammed sanctuary? A hiding place? Mr President, the scars from 9/11 are still healing, still unresolved, yet we deal, negotiate and do business with countries who are known terrorist sympathizers, as if we’re inviting them to the Minnesota state fair… Everything is connected, Mr President. Everything! And one day, it’ll come back and bite America on its ass… Let me tell you something. You put me in the post because you knew I was the best at what I did. There is nobody better for the job, yet you continually block me and question my judgment. We have to jump through Goddamn hoops so the country can sleep well in their beds and people can get up and go to work without fear.’

      For the first time in the meeting, Lyndon Clarke added to the discussion. ‘Chuck, I think now would be an appropriate point for you to calm down.’

      Chuck glared at Lyndon. Stood up. Walked round towards him. ‘Not too long ago in this country you could never speak to me like that. You understand what I’m saying, Lyndon?’

      ‘Are you kidding me, Chuck? Are you really saying what I think you’re saying?’

      The coldness hit Chuck’s eyes. Words. Whole demeanor. ‘I don’t know Lyndon, you tell me. What am I saying?’

      ‘Chuck, I’d say that’s enough. Don’t go there,’ Woods said.

      Chuck, pouring himself a glass of water, shrugged. ‘Understood, Mr President, I know when to stop. Isn’t that right, Lyndon?’

      Calm, quiet and tense, Woods said, ‘We’ve got to close now, but there is just one other point, Chuck… What do you know about a kid who had this theory that there were two impact tremors on the day of the bomb?’

      Calm, quiet and tense, Chuck replied, ‘I have no idea what you’re talking about, Mr President. Should I?’

      ‘Some information came to me via one of my staff that this kid was making a lot of noise about a seismograph reading he’d taken on the evening of the bomb. He was desperate to get someone to listen. Called up every agency there was, apparently.’

      ‘There’s always someone with some kind of conspiracy theory.’

      ‘That’s true, but according to this source, he got in contact not only with the CTC, but you actually spoke to him.’

      Chuck shook his head. Locked eyes with the President. ‘Not wanting to sound disrespectful, but it hardly sounds likely does it? I mean, if I met up with or spoke to every crazy oddball who called up the CTC, I wouldn’t have time to do my job… So, no, Mr President, I certainly didn’t meet up with some mixed up kid from Chatham with some mixed up theory. But I’m curious, how did this source of yours know I’d supposedly spoken to him? Did the kid tell them that we’d met up…? Seriously, Mr President, I’m surprised you even asked me.’

      ‘Why did you say Chatham?’

      ‘Excuse me?’

      ‘You said, the kid was from Chatham. I never told you that.’

      With as much ice as Chuck could muster, he said, ‘I know you didn’t, but I don’t think I’d be much use as a counter terrorism expert if I couldn’t figure out the simplest of things. You told me he’d taken a seismograph reading on the evening of the bomb, so it’s pretty basic to guess he comes from the area, seeing as all the other bombs went off in the afternoon. I don’t know what you’re trying to insinuate, but whatever it is, I don’t like it. Now, if you’ll excuse me, Mr President, I have a country to try to protect.’

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