When she returned, he said, “You’ve got a shrine to me.”
She laughed. “I’m very proud of you, Greystone.”
“Thank you, Mom.”
She beamed. “The President will see you now.”
She escorted him to the Oval Office. The President was sitting behind his desk.
“Mr. President,” Evelyn began. “You remember?—”
“Lieutenant Commander Santini, it’s been a while,” said the President. “Good to see you again.”
He shook the President’s hand. “Thank you, President Garrison. You, as well.”
“I see the Navy has become very lenient on its hair-length policy.”
Greystone chuckled. “I’m flying on Thursday and will hear about it from my CO.”
The President directed them to the pair of sofas. He and Evelyn said next to each other while the President sat across from them.
“Evelyn mentioned we’ve got a problem.”
“Hopefully not,” Greystone said. “Let me bring you up to speed, sir.” Three short sentences later, he’d provided the President with a basic overview of the situation.
“Evelyn, let’s check on the security of our own custodial staff,” said the President.
“Of course, sir, but we’ve used the same group for the past twenty years, and we vet them bi-annually.”
The President regarded Greystone. “How many terrorists are here?”
“Fifteen to twenty.”
“And how confident are you and your team that this Day of Destruction will occur on May thirty-first?”
Greystone paused for a split second, weighing the odds. He wasn’t a gambling man, but he wanted to be as precise as possible. “Eighty percent. We don’t have evidence there are bombs in the buildings because we haven’t located them yet. If we don’t have confirmation by May twenty, explosive-sniffing canines will be deployed.”
“So, you don’t have confirmation it’s going to happen at all?”
“I would err on assuming it will, but if the bombs are completed ahead of their deadline, they might issue a surprise strike.”
The president nodded, then broke eye contact. Greystone stayed silent.
Knock-knock.
“Come in,” said the President.
“Sinclair Develin, Carrera Santini, and Luciano Santini are here.”
Evelyn slid her gaze to Greystone. He didn’t want to piss off the Trinity, but he didn’t need them.
“Are they working this with you, Greystone?” asked the President.
“Sin is on my team. My cousin, Carrera, has assisted us.”
“I’ll be out in a moment,” the President said, and the staffer closed his door.
“Greystone, I’m not about to shut the government down without confirmation of an exact date. On the other hand, I can’t put thousands of innocent people at risk.”
