Parallelogram : Day Two : Chapter 65

Five Days, Nine Hours, Thirty-Five Minutes

The helicopter roared over the regal backdrop that was the Washington, D.C. skyline, and Ethan Stoddard watched the craft's descent toward the White House. Now, he could hear the thunder of its mighty propeller, and he knew that the pilot was undoubtedly racing to make up the time lost in the President's hasty departure from Glory Point – wherever that secret hideout was. Draped by two Secret Service agents, both with their weapons drawn and their eyes fixed on the surrounding trees, Stoddard stood patiently on the House back lawn as the chopper arched over the last row of trees, banked slightly to the right, and descended. He pulled his arms in tight over his suit coat, then opted for buttoning the jacket to keep it in place. To his right, he noticed that the agent reached up, tapping a finger into his ear, adjusting the earpiece. Someone was delivering a message, Stoddard knew, and he watched the agent bring his wrist up to his mouth to bark a quick reply – unintelligible over the drum of the helicopter's rotor – into the wrist microphone.

Leaning close to the agent, Stoddard yelled over the drums, "What is it?"

"Dr. Mentnor," the agent shouted back. "I granted him clearance to wait for us in the foyer."

"Thank you."

The copter touched down, and Stoddard heard the sound change suddenly to a pitched whine. As the blades powered down, the down opened, the ramp descended, and more agents of the Secret Service suddenly marched out of the aircraft. The men took up strategic positions about the grounds as the commander-in-chief stepped out and onto the grassy expanse. Quickly, he hurried across the lawn, saw Stoddard waiting for him, and he shouted, "Thank you for greeting me out here, Ethan!"

"It's my pleasure, sir."

They turned in unison and marched toward the White House doors.

"How's it going with decrypting Chloe's email?" Campbell asked.

"Dr. Mentnor is waiting for us inside."

The agents opened the doors for them, and the two men walked easily into the comfort of the foyer. Mentnor quickly rose from the nearby chair and approached the duo. President Campbell saw the older man first, and, smiling warmly, he changed his course in order to meet the scientist halfway.

"Dr. Mentnor!" the President exclaimed.

The two men clasped hands warmly.

"Doctor, you'll have to pardon me if I sound absolutely giddy," Campbell began, "but I find it refreshing news to learn that you've returned to the BackStep Program, sir."

Grinning, the scientist tried to contain his mellowed embarrassment. "Well, Mr. President, I haven't exactly returned to BackStep so much as I was drafted by Director Talmadge."

"You listen to me when I tell you that Bradley Talmadge only has your best interests at heart, Isaac," the man replied. "It was a mistake for this country to allow you to get away, and I, for one, am glad to see that you've been welcomed back into the fold."

"Thank you, sir."

"Chief Stoddard explained that you're been working on Chloe's final email."

The scientist nodded. "As I've explained to the chief, I'm no expert to this particular fashion of encryption, but, from what I've been able to uncover, it would appear that Miss Vandemark simply alerted the press to the facts that we all know," he stated. "Basically, it contains the claim that your son-in-law was killed, the result of a terrorist attack in Alaska. Of course, we now believe that information is erroneous, and we're acting on the intelligence provided by the former Soviet Union. Nathan Ramsey is en route there, and we should be receiving an update from him once he's on the ground." Quickly, the older man stepped aside and gestured toward the hallway. "However ... I hate to break it to you, sir, but there's been another development."

"Don't tell me that Pendley's truck again?" Stoddard quipped, joining the two men.

"No, Ethan," Mentnor answered. "It isn't anything as dastardly as that ... but I would think that, at this point, any development would not be greeted as good news."

"What is it, doctor?"

Glancing about the foyer, he asked, "Erm ... is there a television handy?"


"Sonuvabitch," Stoddard muttered.

"Yes," Mentnor agreed. "Sonuvabitch, indeed."

"Pendley knew exactly what he was doing," President Campbell chimed in. "We were just too involved with the events as they unfolded to see what he was up to."

The television screen was lit with the image of the afternoon anchor – Howard Mayweather – of CVN's 'Breaking News' Department. Mayweather was nodding at the screen, showing his officious mug for all his viewing audience to see, as he recounted the facts:

"... again, the footage is a CVN Exclusive provided by protestors to the President's less-than-popular Peacetime Drilling Operations, overseen by the United Nations Security Council, since the regime of Saddam Hussein was ousted by freedom forces last years. I repeat, this footage is not provided by any CVN News personnel on the ground in Saudi Arabia, but it comes to us by protestors keeping their vigil in rafts docked about the drilling platform."

Suddenly, the image onscreen changed, and it was replaced by a heavily-bearded man. The shot was too close, and, after several seconds, the operator zoomed out, showing the dark waters of the Persian Gulf.

"Please keep in mind that what you are seeing was shot at approximately seven-thirty p.m. – just after sunset – off the coast of Iraq," Mayweather droned on despite the lack of his quality face time. His voiceover, however, was full of purpose, as he continued: "CVN has not been able to verify the names or identities of the protestors seen in the footage, and, for that reason, we've asked other network and cable television news outlets to join us in broadcasting this coverage so that the families of those men and women seen in this footage will be informed that everyone involved in what you are about to see are in no way, shape, or form harmed 'on camera.' It is our belief that, as the occupants of this raft clearly were able to see this videotape safetly delivered into the hands of a CVN correspondent on the shore, have not been injured. It is my understanding that, as well, the occupants have returned to see in hopes of catching further evidence of what we believe to have been an underwater nuclear detonation in the Persian Gulf ... just off the shore of what could possibly be northern Iraq ... which you'll see in a few seconds ..."

The bearded fellow in the raft suddenly held up a protest sign – "Stop Senseless Drilling!" – to the camera. He brought his plump hand around and pointed at the sign, directing anyone viewing the tape to read what he had written ... but, suddenly, the man wiped his forehead, dropped his sign, and jerked in the raft. Behind him – over his right shoulder – there was a brilliant flash of blinding white light that lasted only a millisecond. The camera view jerked away from the image then, as the operator was clearly thrown to the floor of the raft, but quickly righted itself, staring over the shoulder of the burly man, desperating zooming and focusing in the direction of the flash. The protestor's hand arched onto the screen, causing the camera to refocus on it, and then the camera saw the small wall of water – its curly white tips barely visible in the darkness – rushing toward them.

"Again," Mayweather repeated in his voiceover, "I want to stress that it is the understanding of CVN News and our affiliates that no person was harmed in the production of this video, but, clearly, the flash would indicate an explosion of some type – the type of which this reporter has never seen before – that turns the waters of the Persian Gulf from serene to rocky in a matter of what appears to be seconds ..."

The wall of water now clearly stretched onto the small screen, and the camera operator tried to maintain his balance in the raft, but he fell forward as the wave smacked into the tiny craft. The image lost all cohesion – the raft obviously submerged in the wake – but then it returned ... and the craft was racing downward into the gap well behind the water. The displacement was tremendous – Mentnor guessed that the raft was easily dropping at a fifty degree angle. The burly man fell into view, rolling about, crushing his own protest sign, but then he caught himself on some handles. Another arm came onscreen – there must have been another occupant in the raft – and it helped the man recover his balance in the descending craft. As quickly as the craft had dipped below the sea level, it coasted back up to the surface, bobbing and weaving, and the camera shot producing more than a touch of nausea. Finally, the burly man rocked forward, firmly planting his knees on the raft's bottom – and he sat up on camera, vehemently pointing at something off screen. Slowly, the cameraman followed his directions, and Mentnor saw that, after the devastation of the wave, the men were propelled almost what he guessed was one-quarter mile away from the drilling platform they were recently almost touching.

The amateur video blanked on the screen, and the concerned expression of Howard Mayweather filled the space.

"No word has yet been issued by the Pentagon regarding this developing story, but CVN News has learned that an email – apparently issued by the White House – does indeed reference a terrorist attack," the newsman stated. "Once we are able to clarify the nature of the events you've just witnessed and, presumably, once our staff can verify the veracity of the email, we will make an announcement ... but, in the meantime, we're going to stay with this breaking news story, seen here as an exclusive across all cable and network news outlets, by CVN."

Stoddard felt the President's hand on his shoulder.

"Get me through to the head of their news department," Campbell said. "I don't care what buttons you have to push, Ethan. You get them on the telephone, and you get them to hold any further broadcast until I have the chance to examine their footage."

"You know how they are," Stoddard tried.

"I know how they are, but I also know that, as a wartime President, I'm not going to stand here and take another hit on the chin."

Lowering his voice to almost conspiratorial levels, the chief asked, "What are you willing to give them in exchange for their cooperation?"

The President ground his teeth together, staring almost blankly at the television screen.

"Tell them they'll get to carry the exclusive response by the White House – just like they coordinated this with the other news outlets – once I'm ready to issue one."

END of Chapter 65