Designated Survivor (11 page)

“Yes,” Paulson said.

“Would you please find the oath of office,” Graham said. “I’d like for you to swear me in.”

“Yes, sir,” she said.

“William will work with you to prepare,” Graham said. “I’m thinking in the atrium upstairs would be good.”

“We’ll take care of it,” William said. “You just prepare some remarks for the press.”

Amanda Paulson and William left the room.

“I really don’t think now’s the time,” Director Leighton said. “We have a country in shock from a terrorist attack that happened on live television. I don’t know if throwing a new president at them within half an hour is the right move.”

“It is. We need a reassuring voice to tell the Nation we are going to find who is responsible for this and bring them to justice,” Graham said. “Thank you for voicing your concerns, director. Right now I need someone to contact Secret Service and get a detail out here immediately.”

Fifteen minutes later the lobby of the Homeland Security building had the two dozen employees that had come in to work early and were brought down from their desks to watch the event. The sun was coming through the windows on the east end of the atrium. A single news crew arrived and set up a live shot with one camera and a reporter who was more accustomed to covering human-interest stories than major political events.

Richard Graham and Amanda Paulson walked to the front of the group. Amanda opened her leather notebook with the printout of the presidential oath of office inside. Paulson turned to the audience.

“May we have silence, please,” she said. “We have no means to amplify and hope the few in presence will be able to witness this historic moment,” she paused, looking down at her hands. “We’ve experienced a great loss and a tragic event. We are fortunate to have someone as qualified as Secretary Graham to take lead of our Nation. Before we continue, first a moment of silence for all those lost.”

The audience went into a hush, the weight of the moment happening before them getting heavier and more real by the second.

Paulson continued. “It is my honor as assistant director of the FBI to swear in Mr. Graham,” she turned to him. “Shall we begin?”

After a moment of mumbling, the lobby became quiet again. Paulson looked at Graham then down at the printed page in her leather binder.

“Please repeat after me,” she said. “I, Richard Eliot Graham, do solemnly swear that I will faithfully execute the Office of President of the United States,” Paulson read.

“I, Richard Eliot Graham, do solemnly swear that I will faithfully execute the Office of President of the United States,” Graham said.

“And will to the best of my ability, preserve, protect, and defend the Constitution of the United States,” Paulson said.

“And will to the best of my ability, preserve, protect, and defend—”

“Stop right there,” a voice echoed from the back of the lobby.

Everyone turned to see then they moved to create an aisle for the four people walking to the front of the room. President Abrams stepped up to Richard Graham with Agent Rick Haggard and Jim Monroe behind her. Grace had stopped at the back of the room, out of the line of sight of the camera and the people watching.

“Thank you for your service, Richard,” Abrams said. “But I’m still able to fulfill my sworn oath as president.”

“President Abrams,” Graham said. “I thought you were, I never would have . . . ”

“I know, Richard,” Abrams said. “I know.” She leaned in and put her arms around Graham and held him tight then leaned out. “Thank you for taking the lead and working with Homeland Security, FBI and the military to stage a rescue.”

She turned to the silent and awed crowd.

“Today is a very dark day for America,” she said. “We lost many good soldiers. Soldiers who volunteered their lives to serve their country. Soldiers who died doing just that,” she paused and looked out at the faces that watched her. “But thanks to the work of a special group of men and women, I received word as I arrived here that all members of Congress, the Supreme Court and everyone else in attendance at the State of the Union were successfully removed from the Capitol before the explosion.” The audience cheered and the president raised her hands for silence. “But that doesn’t change the fact that there is a terrorist force out there, a force with such extensive resources and reach that they were able to carry out this horrible act of destruction. I vow we will find the people responsible and bring them to justice.”

More cheers and a wave for quiet.

“So what the hell are you all standing around for?” she said. “We have some terrorists to catch and you’re the ones who will catch them.”

She waved at the crowd then turned to Monroe and Arrington.

“Let’s go,” she said.

Arrington led them to the back of the room and Grace met them and walked beside the president to the elevators. They exited on the sublevel and entered the ETTF control room. The screens lining all of the walls still showed every possible news station and all of them were replaying the speech she’d given moments earlier.

“That’s disturbing,” she looked up at herself on the huge screens. “I haven’t showered in two days and high-definition is not my friend. Turn those off.”

“Over here, Ma’am,” Arrington walked to the conference table and pulled the chair at the head of the table back and the president sat down. Director Leighton and General Darby were already at the table and stood as she was seated.

“Where are we?” she said.

“We haven’t confirmed who’s behind the attack, ma’am,” Director Leighton said. “Nobody has claimed credit, and likely won’t now that it’s public knowledge that they didn’t succeed.”

“Didn’t succeed?” the president spun on her heels to face the CIA director. “Have you seen the Capitol? What about the dead bodies of at least two dozen Special Forces? How about the scores of Secret Service agents and Capitol Police murdered at the onset of the attack?”

“Yes, ma’am. I just meant that they didn’t succeed in, well, killing you,” Leighton said.

“I for one am quite glad they did fail at that, but there is to be no talk of this tragedy as a failure. We lost good, American lives. Whoever did this succeeded in killing those men and women, and I don’t want them getting away with it,” she said. “We’re working from here until further notice. Let’s get the rest of the Joint Chiefs on their way so we can try to make some real decisions. Get to work.”

CHAPTER 17

Grace went to his desk and stared up at all of the screens showing interviews with members of Congress who’d run straight to the media, all declaring their commitment to finding who was behind the terrorist acts and the deaths of dozens of Special Forces troops. Ben Murray came over to him.

“I have something to show you,” Ben said.

Grace followed the analyst back to his desk.

“We’ve identified a few matching numbers received by both Secret Service officers and Capitol Police,” Ben said. “It’s slow going.”

“Were the numbers all from disposable phones?” Grace said.

“They were,” Ben said.

“Can you get GPS data on the last places they were used?”

Ben starting typing and going from one window to another. He compared lines of data coming through.

“This is weird,” he said.

“Weird how?” Grace said.

“We only have four numbers identified and all of them were in the same place,” Ben said.

“Where?”

“DC,” Ben typed and stared at his screen then scribbled on a piece of paper and handed it to Grace. “Here’s the address. All four phones appear to have been in that building.”

Grace tapped the button on his radio. “This is Grace. Gear up and head to the van. We’re moving out in two minutes.”

He turned back to the analyst.

“You’re a rock star, Ben,” Grace said. “Get me a list of all tenants in the building. I want to know what office they’re in before we pull up to the curb.”

Grace grabbed Arrington on his way out.

“We have a lead to check out,” he said. “Can you do something for me?”

“What?” Arrington said.

“We’re still driving a stolen van,” Grace said.

“I’ll take care of it,” Arrington said. “Just try not to destroy it.”

“Another thing,” Grace said.

“There’s always another thing with you,” Arrington said. “What is it?”

“I want to go to Buzzard Point,” Grace said. “It’s getting too . . .  government up in here.”

Arrington glanced around the room at the president and her cabinet and the dozens of assistants for various people.

“Yeah,” Arrington said. “Probably best you stay out of sight. Just keep things clean. The Attorney General is here and we want results we can take to the people, not something we have to hide in the basement.”

“I’ll do my best,” Grace said.

“Your best. Like in Tehran?” Arrington said.

“Hey, they shot first,” Grace said. “Wasn’t our fault. Oh, and I want to take Ben Murray with us.”

“He’s not NSA or CIA,” Arrington said. “I have no say over him.”

“He’s ten times faster than any of us on a computer and we need that kind of speed,” Grace said. “I have the systems back at my office. Anything I don’t have access to, I have a feeling he can get in to.”

“Enough said,” Arrington said. “Take him if he wants to go. We’ll clean up the mess with DHS later. And keep me updated.”

“Likewise,” Grace said.

Arrington left and Grace went back to Ben’s desk.

“I’m working on the list of tenants,” Ben said.

“Do you want to help end this thing?” Grace said.

“I’m doing my best, it’s just that . . . ”

“No, I know you are. Do you want to do more?”

Ben stared up at Grace from his swiveling desk chair.

Grace was out of the building as the van pulled up. Holden and Avery came from behind him, each carrying large black cases.

“Do I want to know?” Grace looked at the cases.

“No,” Holden said.

“Great,” Grace said. “I’ll pretend it’s a margarita machine.”

The rest of the team was in the van and Netty had them moving as soon as everyone was in. Grace gave her the address and she made a left on Centreville Road and two miles later a right onto the entrance to the toll road that connects Dulles Airport with Highway 66. She worked up to 70 miles per hour in the middle lane.

“So team, if you haven’t noticed, we have a new member,” Grace turned in his seat. “At least for the short term. Everyone give Ben a warm welcome.”

“Fuck you, Ben,” Holden said.

“Run while you can. Grace is a jackass,” Avery said.

The welcomes continued as Ben shrunk in his seat, his laptop open as he kept working.

“What’s the load velocity of a Heckler & Koch .88 caliber pistol?” Chip said.

“That question doesn’t even make sense,” Ben said.

“You’ll do just fine,” Chip said.

Grace grinned and turned back to look out the front windshield and saw a red police light flashing in the middle of the dash.

“Where’d you get the cherry?” Grace said. Netty didn’t answer.

Twenty minutes later the van crossed the Roosevelt Bridge and took the E Street exit on the left into downtown D.C.

“We’re almost there,” Grace said. He looked around the van at his team. Everyone had changed into black tactical pants and shirts and wore Kevlar vests with POLICE written across the front.

“Subtle,” he said.

The van stopped in front of a building on Vermont Avenue and Avery slid the side door open. Grace stepped to the side door.

“Ben, what do you have?”

“Eight floors, 11 tenants,” Ben said.

“Who’s the newest?” Grace said. Ben kept typing.

“Sixth floor, a company called Neurotomy,” Ben said. “Seems to be some kind of psychological and social research firm.”

“How long they been here?”

“Lease was signed six months ago,” Ben said. “The company was formed right about the same time. Everyone else in the building has been there a few years at least.”

“That’s it then. You hang tight here,” Grace slammed the sliding door shut and turned to the building. “Six up. Holden and Avery I want you on the stairs. Rest of us are on the elevator. I want everyone on comms, so check your volume now.”

Grace tapped the button on his radio and spoke to broadcast into the earpieces everyone was wearing. They all nodded. Holden and Avery headed in to get a head start on the stairs. The rest of them followed. There was no front desk and Netty hit the button for the elevator.

“I’ll go up first with Levi,” Grace saw the cameras mounted on the ceiling as he spoke. “Get the other elevator as soon as we’re gone. I don’t want all of us bottlenecked in case we have a greeting party. They may already know we’re here.”

Grace and Levi stepped on the elevator and Levi hit the button for the sixth floor. On the short ride up they checked their rifles one last time then stepped to either side of the door before it opened.

After the sixth “ding” from the control panel the elevator stopped and the doors slid open. The men checked the angles then turned at the same time and stepped into the hallway with their rifles raised.

Holden’s voice came in through his earpiece. “We’re entering sixth floor now.”

To their left Grace and Levi heard the stairwell door open and the two men came out, Avery first to clear then Holden following. Grace motioned and they fell in line. There were two office suites on the floor and their target was at the other end of the hallway. Holden took up the rear, staying turned with his rifle pointed behind them as they made their way to the solid wooden door.

Grace signaled that Levi would be first in and he’d cover, then the rest of the men. With his hand on the knob, Grace slowly turned it to silently release the latch then nodded. Levi put his shoulder to the door and pushed through and brought his rifle up and turned left. Grace caught the door and followed, turning right.

There was one large room in front of them with desks spaced out in cubicles everywhere. They began to spread out and move through the maze, at least one man keeping eyes up at all times while the others cleared the spaces under the desks to make sure nobody was hiding.