Detective Danny Cavanaugh 01 - The Brink

young to have much of a track record in either.”
    Jack could feel the tension pulsing inside his press secretary. What an asshole Harry is , Jack thought. He didn’t know if calling a black man “son” was as bad as calling him “boy,” but from the look on Blake’s face, it was. Jack took back control of the room.
    “Okay folks. Let’s stick to task here.” He looked to Charlie and Rita for answers to his next question. “Let’s entertain Harry’s notion if nothing else but to get it off the table. If it’s intentional, why?”
    Charlie went first. “Extortion. Someone in Parliament might be making a deal with terrorists. Maybe there was a kidnapping, and they bargained a son or daughter of a prominent Parliament member in exchange for nuclear material.”
    Rita played off of Charlie’s theory. “You know, the Saudis do a hell of a business with the London banks. Maybe they were threatening to go somewhere else unless they got their hands on some nukes.”
    “They could still be pissed off at us for that little difference of opinion we had back in 1776.”
    Harry Tharp’s mouth had once again silenced the room. This time, Jack forced himself to look anywhere but at Simon.
    Clarence Warner’s nervous voice crept into the phone. “Mr. President, sir?”
    Jack depressed the mute button. “Yes, Clarence?”
    “Sir, we found another suitcase device here at the Lincoln. Same brand and color. Black American Tourister. Same guts, too. I’d say it was made by the same people who are responsible for the monument bomb.”
    “Jesus. So it’s another dirty bomb?” Jack asked.
    “Yes, sir,” Clarence replied.
    “Have you checked the material yet?”
    “Yes, sir. I was just talking to our analyst when I got off the phone before.”
    “And?”
    “This bomb’s plutonium is also from Great Britain, sir.”
    “Son of a bitch,” Jack replied.
    “Sir, there’s more.”
    “Go ahead, Clarence.”
    “I need to tell you exactly where this bomb was found.”

Chapter 46
    As soon as Clarence was done telling the PEOC group about the unnerving location, Jack hit the button to end the call. “Any thoughts?” he asked his staff. He had to ask the question twice in order for it to actually sink into their obviously dumbfounded minds. Initially, no one had any ideas. Even Harry Tharp had nothing to say about the location of the suitcase.
    “Mr. President, whoever is doing this is sending us a message,” Blake Conway offered.
    “You mean besides the message of ‘I don’t care for you guys very much’?”
    Jack crossed back to the dry-erase board. He wrote:

    Location #1—Monument, trash can
    Location #2—Lincoln Memorial, sub-basement

    “Sir, the locations of the bombs are telling us that they can go virtually anywhere at anytime,” Blake replied.
    Simon and Jack stared at each other. “Mr. President,” Simon finally uttered, “it’s time to call Tony.”
    Jack made eye contact with every other person in the room, one-by-one. “Could you all excuse us for a minute?”
    They did as they were told. Blake Conway was the last to leave, and he closed the door behind him. Jack sat back down in his chair as Simon waited the requisite thirty seconds before he spoke. He hitched his thumb toward the door. “It’s also time to tell them about Monticello and the library, sir. But call Tony first.” Jack did a double take, wondering if these walls had ears. “I know, Mr. President,” Simon continued as he took his seat. “But it’ll be a hell of a lot better to talk strategy about this thing with everyone in the know. Plus, I’d like to get the monkey off our backs and let some others carry it around for a while. Wouldn’t you?”
    Jack nodded reluctantly. “You think Harry already knows about the documents from the break-ins? What if one of our experts leaked it?”
    Simon shook his head. “It’s only God’s sense of humor that Harry is continuing to make his comments without realizing he’s pretty much hitting the nail on the head every time. Harry’s not subtle and definitely not that clever. He’s a square peg continually ramming a round hole. If he had something on you or me, he wouldn’t be smart enough to use it for political leverage. He’d grandstand it so he could get his fifteen minutes in front of a national audience.”
    Relief trickled into Jack’s system. “You’re right. By the way, what are your thoughts on Booker?”
    Simon huffed. “Son of a bitch got what was