RED DECEPTION BY GARY GROSSMAN AND ED FULLER EXCERPT...
First Presidential briefing on Homeland Attacks. WASHINGTON, D.C.
President Alexander Crowe had had an entirely different day planned. Meeting with 4H students, signing a new international climate initiative, and then a flight on Marine One, the Presidential helicopter, 62 miles north-northwest of Washington, D.C., to a secluded wooded area in the Catoctin Mountain Park. To Camp David, and two days of golf, and hopefully a break from global concerns.
All plans for that day were abandoned with the first explosion. It escalated with the second and third attacks. And then came the satellite images and intelligence from the Baltic nations and Gorshkov’s latest gambit.
Beginning with the report of the initial attack, it had been briefing after briefing; Pierce Kimball, the National Security Advisor, was by his side for each session. In and out of the Oval Office came the heads of Central Intelligence, the FBI, and NSA, the Secretaries of Homeland Security, Defense, State, and Interior, and lastly, Vice President Ryan Battaglio.
This latest meeting had everyone crammed into the basement Situation Room. It was a ‘quiet room’ where neither cell phones nor recording devices were allowed, but ideas and solutions were welcome. The president’s team examined a photograph on a monitor.
“A diversion,” Pierce Kimball said. “Brutally elegant.”
“What kind of diversion?” the president followed up.
“The kind a magician uses. Look at the pretty lady to hide the deceptive moves. In this case, the lady wasn’t so pretty.”
“Any chatter?” Crowe asked the CIA chief.
CIA Chief Gerald Watts peered over his tortoiseshell glasses. “Aside from noise on the Internet, no.”
“What kind of noise?”
“Conspiracy theories. Everything from domestic terrorists to you, Mr. President.”
“Me?”
“Wag the dog, sir. Create havoc against slipping poll numbers. Believable in some fringe quarters and pushed out automatically by bots. They began popping up within a half-hour after the hits. Timed and programmed to trigger.”
“Any digital fingerprints?” Crowe asked.
“None yet.”
Next, Crowe turned to FBI director McCafferty. “Anything, Reese?”
“Only assumptions. Highly coordinated,” the former New York City Chief of Police said. “And very well-financed. We’re looking into bank transfers and screening camera footage along the bridge and tunnel, running license plates, and something else.”
He paused. The kind of pause that invited a reaction.
“Too soon to comment, sir. But there’s a State Department report that bears some attention.”
McCafferty shot Pierce Kimball a look. Kimball cocked his head to the side in subtle acknowledgment. Vice President Battaglio took it all in. He was anything but quiet and reserved, but he had nothing to contribute. Not yet.
“What kind of report?” Crowe asked as he loosened his tie and rolled up his sleeves.
“Prefer not to say, Mr. President.”
“Well, I prefer you do, Reese.”
“I’ll take that, Mr. President,” Secretary of State Elizabeth Matthews volunteered. Alexander Crowe turned his attention to Matthews, his most trusted cabinet secretary.
“A blueprint, Mr. President. A step-by-step blueprint for what occurred today. Prepared for me when I worked at State. Detailed beyond belief.”
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