“Chain of command, asshole,” said Kotrich.
“Can’t. The purpose of the meeting is too sensitive. Too secret. Not even the SecDef knows what this is about. But Janney does. Don’t tell him about this call and he’ll have your head.”
“Is that a threat?” snapped Kotrich.
“No shit!” said Vargas. “Look,” he continued, deciding to take another tack, “if this wasn’t of the utmost importance, I wouldn’t be this persistent about it. I know this is unusual. But I can’t overstate the stakes here.”
There was a long pause. “Okay,” said Kotrich finally, “but you’d better be on the level. I’m meeting with the president in an hour. I’ll give him your name and tell him you want a meeting. But if he doesn’t know what this is about, I’ll have your superiors cover you in so much shit, you’ll never smell fresh air again.”
“Tell him I need an hour of his time, but that I’ll settle for forty-five millionths of a second. Those exact words. Repeat them.”
“What the hell is that supposed to mean?”
“It’s an inside joke. It will mean something to Janney. Tell him these exact words.”
“If you and the president shared inside jokes, I’d know who you were, and you’d have met with him before.”
“If you tell him exactly what I just said, and he doesn’t want to meet with me, you can have me busted down to a fucking private, okay? Now please repeat it for me, so I know you have it.”
“If he doesn’t know what this is about,” said Kotrich, “I’ll do worse than have you busted down in rank. I’ll have you sent for psychiatric evaluation. With a recommendation of having you stripped of all duties and committed to an asylum.”
“Fine,” said Vargas without hesitation. “Now can you repeat what I said?” he asked for the third time.
“I’ve got it,” said the chief of staff. “You want an hour meeting with the president. But forty-five milliseconds will do.”
“Microseconds!” corrected Vargas. “Milliseconds are only thousandths of a second. I said millionths. But don’t use either one so there is no mistake. Just say forty-five millionths of a second. Okay? Then call me back and tell me when and where we’re meeting.”
Kotrich shook his head in disbelief. “Sure,” he said cynically. “When men are knocking at your door with a straight jacket, don’t say I didn’t warn you.”
***
Just under three hours later chief of staff B. Joseph Kotrich contacted Vargas. “All right, Colonel, you’re in,” he began, in such a way that it was clear that when he said colonel, he meant asshole.
Kotrich was a man of order and rules. He didn’t appreciate calls out of the blue from arrogant jackasses bypassing their command structure, making demands and threats, and calling him names. “The president will meet with you at a private home he maintains in the area in one hour. I’ll text you the address.”
“Private home?” said Vargas. “The president doesn’t have any homes in the area.”
“You aren’t the only one with secrets, Colonel,” said Kotrich. “He’ll meet with you, but he doesn’t want you seen. And he doesn’t want you logging in to the White House. Cheer up. I’d imagine a cockroach like you likes the idea of staying in the darkness.”
Vargas ignored this attempt to provoke him. “Tell the president I’ll see him in an hour,” he said, hanging up before Kotrich could reply.
39
President Alex Janney looked smaller in person. Thinner and older too. Apparently, makeup and a television camera were his friends. Not that he looked frail. He still had a handsome but affable face and black hair, almost certainly from a bottle, as was Vargas’s own. And he still exuded the power one would expect from the leader of the free world.
Just not quite as much as he did on a screen.
The president sat behind a massive lacquered desk that looked like it was hacked from a tree of gargantuan diameter, with the tree’s rings still present, advertising the desk’s authenticity. Four men had met Vargas at the entry foyer, frisking him thoroughly, and putting him through metal detectors and other sensors, even knowing to look for prototype weaponry that he might be concealing. Someone had done their homework.
Janney looked Vargas up and down like he was under a microscope. The colonel sat with his hands folded neatly and tried to maintain a relaxed, friendly expression, taking Knight’s advice to heart. He had rehearsed enough to actually feel somewhat relaxed, even given all the lies he was about to tell.
“Thanks for meeting with me so quickly, Mr. President,” he heard himself say. “It’s an honor.”
“Yeah, cut the bullshit,” snapped Janney. “You got my attention with forty-five millionths of a second. Unusually specific. Suggesting you think it might mean something. So what is it that you think you know?”
“Everything,” responded Vargas. “Q5’s been busy. I’m here because I’m worried that you might not know what they’re really up to.”
“What I know,” said Janney, “is that I had Cargill and his group removed from your authority a while ago. And no one is more adamant, more crazy paranoid, about secrecy than Cargill. In this case, for very good reason. Which is why he insisted he be spun off in the first place. So how could you know the first thing about Q5?”
“Because Lee changed his mind,” replied Vargas. “At least when it came to me. I was his mentor, and there were times he needed someone senior to use as a sounding board. Someone he trusted. So he told me all about time travel. Duplication. Teleportation.”
Janney’s eyes widened slightly as Vargas said these words. The president still hadn’t brought himself to totally believe Vargas knew what this was all about, despite his reference to forty-five millionths of a second, but it was impossible to harbor a doubt any longer.
“Mentor?” said the president in disbelief. “Someone he trusted? He told me just the opposite. When Knight discovered this tech, he and Cargill bypassed the chain of command and came straight to me. Cargill insisted Q5 be separated from the pack, removed from your grip. He said you were overbearing and arrogant, the last person he could trust with this technology. He said you had a history of being overzealous with your use of force.”
Vargas pretended to look hurt. He had war gamed this conversation at length. He had no idea what Cargill might have told the president when he had wrested Q5 from Vargas’s leadership, but he knew enough to plan out a response in case Cargill had trashed him.
“That’s painful to hear,” he began. “I’m not going to lie,” he added, which, by itself, was the biggest lie of all. “Lee and I were very close. He must have wanted to get a promotion, run the group himself, and thought disparaging me might do the trick.” He shook his head sadly. “And it worked. But later, he must have realized he needed my help.”
Vargas sighed. “I guess I shouldn’t be surprised that he’d stab me in the back. The race to climb the career ladder can be a full-contact sport.”
Janney shook his head in disgust. “You’re kidding, right? I don’t even think you believe what you’re saying—like you’re reciting lines, and badly. You and I both know he didn’t make up his accusations from whole cloth. After his plea to make Q5 its own island, I studied your file. You’re smart and impressive. Quite accomplished. But Cargill was right. No question in my mind that you were overly . . . enthusiastic with your use of drone strikes and missiles when you were in charge of these programs. And you were a strong advocate of advanced interrogation methods on prisoners.”
“That was long ago,” said Vargas. “Under an administration that expected this kind of . . . aggressiveness. Since then, I’ve been nothing but judicious in my actions. Which is why I was put in the position I’m in now in the first place. How I’ve passed the psych evaluations with flying colors.”
“This is also true,” acknowledged Janney. “Which is why—while I agreed with Cargill about burying Q5 even deeper in secrecy and removing it from your control—I didn’t have you fired.”
&nbs
p; “And I’ve never given you any reason to regret that decision,” said Vargas. “If you’ve checked my record since my more . . . overzealous days . . . you’ll see that I’ve been very measured in my management of our country’s black weapons programs. But getting back to the topic at hand, you should know that Lee and I discussed the proper use of force on many occasions over the past few years. I know he doesn’t believe what he told you about me. He did this for reasons of his own.”
“I’ve known and worked with Cargill ever since he came to me to ask to be spun off,” said the president. “Kate and I have discussed you and your programs,” he added, referring to his Secretary of Defense, “but you and I have never met in person before. So why should I believe you over him? And even if he lied about you to get control of Q5, why should I care?”
Vargas blew out a long breath. “If I’m lying, how would I know about time travel? About 45.15 microseconds and fifty-eight feet?”
Vargas could tell this gave the president pause. “I don’t know,” replied Janney. “But there are others in the know within Q5. There are plenty of people who could have leaked, other than him.”
“Even if you refuse to believe I got my information from Lee, himself, that doesn’t change what I know. Or its importance. It doesn’t change why I thought it was critical that we meet.”
“Oh?” said Janney, raising his eyebrows. “And why is that?”
“Did Lee tell you he killed Knight at Lake Las Vegas?”
Janney blinked rapidly in confusion. “No, because he didn’t kill him. Edgar Knight killed himself. While tampering with time travel.”
Wow, thought Vargas. Even Knight hadn’t anticipated that Cargill would lie about being responsible for the explosion. “Is that really what he told you?” asked Vargas in dismay.
Janney nodded. “You’re saying it isn’t entirely true?”
“Entirely true? Mr. President. No. I’m saying none of it is true. I’m saying there are so many things wrong with this statement, it’s hard to know where to even begin.”
“Are you going to tell me what is true?” snapped Janney. “Or just play word games?”
“The explosion had nothing to do with time travel. As you know, the energy for time travel is spent entirely on pushing something back through time. Time travel itself can’t cause an explosion. But Lee can. And he did in this case.”
“Ridiculous,” said the president. “Why would he do that? The explosion killed thousands. Apparently, there is a way that time travel can result in an explosion. The experts tell me what happened at Lake Las Vegas wasn’t caused by any conventional explosive. They would have seen traces. Not that they hadn’t already guessed this was the case from the magnitude of the blast. So it must have been caused by Knight changing up the protocols.”
“There’s another explanation, sir,” said Vargas. “It was caused by an experimental explosive. One being developed by one of my labs. Octa-nitro-cubane. Chemists can only make amounts so small, they’re harmless, but Lee can amplify it using time travel. My people analyzed some of the slag from ground zero and found its signature. One that your people wouldn’t know to look for. There is no doubt this is the explosive Lee used. And again, only he could produce the quantities that were used.”
The president’s eyes narrowed as he considered this claim.
“That’s why I came to you,” continued Vargas. “I’ve been worried about Lee for some time now. But when I learned he had done this, I knew he was completely off the reservation. Much too dangerous to be allowed to continue to run Q5.”
Janney studied the visitor across from him for several long seconds. “So you’re telling me that Cargill wanted Knight dead so badly he took it upon himself to kill thousands of people? Without getting a green light from me?”
Vargas shook his head sadly. “No. It’s worse than that, Mr. President. I’m telling you he annihilated Lake Las Vegas, and everyone working there, for entirely unknown reasons. For reasons having nothing to do with Knight.”
Janney shook his head adamantly. “If he did this—and I’m not saying he did—he did it to kill Knight. He saw him as the ultimate threat. He couldn’t possibly have a greater motive.”
“He must have,” said Vargas.
“How can you say that with such certainty?”
“Because Knight was long dead at the time of the strike,” said Vargas. “And Lee knew it. Not dead as in the false story you and Lee spread around, dead. But dead for real. Six months ago. I killed him myself, after Lee begged for my help. I tracked him down using prototype tech from one of my labs and killed him. You were right about Knight being Lee’s Holy Grail.”
“Impossible,” said Janney. “Cargill has reported on Knight’s activities several times recently.”
“Just shows he has a good imagination. Like telling you that Knight killed himself on that man-made little island. Knight wasn’t even alive at the time. And he was never on this island, even when he was alive. Lee destroyed it for reasons of his own, causing massive loss of life.”
Vargas had never seen the president this rattled. Normally putting on an unflappable air, he now looked as if he had just been punched in the gut. “Assuming this is true,” said Janney, “did Cargill tell you anything that might explain these actions?”
“Not a thing,” replied the colonel. “He cut off all communications with me over a month ago. My people only found the unmistakable signature of octa-nitro-cubane yesterday. Which is when I decided I had to come to you. I was sure you hadn’t been in on this attack. And judging from the lies that Lee has fed you, he’s more than just off the reservation. He’s possibly out of his mind.”
Janney shook his head. “He was as rational as ever when I spoke with him recently,” he pointed out. “There must be another explanation.”
“Then we need to find it quickly, Mr. President. Because you can’t have a loose cannon wielding more power than anyone on the planet. Now that his teleportation range has been extended to a hundred twenty miles, no one is safe. Not even you, sir.”
“A hundred twenty miles?” whispered Janney. “What are you talking about?”
“You know, Nathan Wexler’s work? Extending time travel to almost half a second. During which time the Earth moves about a hundred twenty miles.”
“It’s true that Cargill was hot after Wexler’s work,” said Janney, “but only because Wexler had developed the theoretical underpinnings of time travel. Cargill thought this would improve the process. But he never mentioned anything about going further back in time. He told me forty-five microseconds was the limit.”
“It was before Wexler,” said the colonel. “But now Lee can move in such huge jumps that nothing is safe from him, not even the White House.”
Vargas paused to let this sink in. “I think the world of Lee Cargill,” he continued softly. “But I’m a patriot, and he’s become too dangerous to leave in place. I think you’ll agree that he has to be stopped.”
The president didn’t respond.
Vargas shook his head. “But stopping him won’t be easy,” he continued. “Try to fire him, and you might set off a powder keg. Marshal the forces at your command to remove him and they’d have no chance, unless you told them what they were up against—which you can’t do. I would argue that you have to find a way to take care of this in-house.”
“So what would you recommend?”
“Let me investigate him. He’s been working with virtually no real oversight for a long time now. So let me bring you overwhelming evidence that everything I say is true. If it is, we can’t haul him in front of a Congressional committee. We can’t imprison him for mass murder, or even abuse of power. He knows too much. So you’ll need to be the judge and jury. I can help with the execution part. It’s the only way to defuse this.”
“And I suppose you would replace him at the helm?”
“Q5 was originally in my camp, so why not return it there? And I’m one of the few who knows its secrets. So yes, I believ
e I’d be an excellent choice to replace him. I’m a reformed man, as you know. I only want to preserve the peace. So I’d run the group the way Lee is supposed to be running it.” Vargas shrugged. “But put Mother Teresa in charge if it makes you feel better. After I take him out, you can choose whoever you want.”
“Assuming you can really bring me unimpeachable evidence of all you say,” said Janney.
“Of course.”
“We’re done here,” said Janney. “For now. I have a lot to think about. I want you back here tomorrow morning at ten.”
“Yes, sir, Mr. President,” said Vargas. “I’ll be here.”
40
Lee Cargill took a deep breath and answered the call, which was unexpected, to say the least. When the computer-generated holographic image of the president materialized in front of him, this marked the only time Janney had ever called him out of the blue.
“Good evening, Mr. President,” he said, bringing his mind to full alertness for the curve balls that were certain to be thrown at him any minute. Their relationship over the years had been strictly business. This wasn’t a social call, and the president couldn’t care any less about how he was doing, or the weather in Colorado, or in making any other small talk. “What can I do for you, sir?”
“Are you familiar with something called octa-nitro-cubane?”
“Yes,” said Cargill, as internal alarm sirens began to scream. “It’s the most potent non-nuclear explosive ever discovered. Theoretically. But making even microscopic amounts is prohibitively expensive and time-consuming.”
“Right. This being said, it’s come to my attention, through certain channels, that the residue of this chemical, its signature, was found at Lake Las Vegas. I was wondering if you knew anything about this?”
Time Frame (Split Second Book 2) Page 20