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“You can hear this, ma’am,” Miller said. “I just didn’t want Secretary Beiderman to hear it. I just realized he will anyway, so it doesn’t make any sense . . .”

“Neither are you making any sense, Major,” Hall said.

“It’s about getting through to General McNab, sir. I don’t think all the communication is down.”

“I don’t understand,” Hall said.

“Sir, I’ve been on missions like this one. When it gets close to doing something . . . there’s often a link that goes down.”

“I don’t understand,” Hall said.

“I think I do,” Natalie Cohen said. “There is a point in time after which, thank you just the same, General McNab doesn’t want anyone looking over his shoulder offering friendly advice? He wants to get on with the job?”

“Yes, ma’am.”

“Now, you know why he didn’t want Fred to hear this,” Cohen said and turned back Miller. “You know how to get through to him?”

“Usually, he leaves the imagery link open,” Miller said.

“I don’t know what that means,” Hall said.

“It means he’s still able to receive an image. Some people know that,” Miller said. “If it’s important, they’ll send him one.”

“An image? A picture?” Hall asked.

“Yes, sir.”

“Of what?” Hall asked.

“Of a message. Right, Major?” Dr. Cohen asked.

“Yes, ma’am.”

“You’re saying you can get through to him with an image of a message?” Hall asked. When Miller nodded, Hall added, “Well, we’re going to have to tell Beiderman that, of course.”

“Maybe not,” Natalie Cohen said. “Would he take a message from you, Major?”

“Yes, ma’am, I think he would.”

“How would that work?”

“I’d write the message here, fax it out to the Nebraska Avenue place, and tell the operator to send it,” Miller said.

“Nebraska Avenue?”

“Castillo set up a Gray Fox radio out there,” Hall said.

Dr. Cohen pulled open a drawer of her desk, took out a sheet of paper, and handed it and a ballpoint pen to Miller.

“Go,” she said.

“Ma’am, have you got a felt-tip, a Magic Marker? I need something big.”

“Coming up,” she said and went back to her desk drawer.

“Thank you,” Miller said. “Mr. Secretary, I’m going to need the numbers, fax and phone, out there.”

Hall went into the outer office, where Isaacson and McGuire were waiting.


Tags: W.E.B. Griffin Presidential Agent Thriller