“It’s the problem where we commandeered British Special Air Service troops this morning without permission, and one was sent home in a bag. Apparently, Montgomery’s a cowboy, plays things fast and loose, and this was a breaking point for his bosses. They called him back to London. Big Daddy’s got a reputation similar to Monty’s. There’s been what the British would call a diplomatic row, with some finger pointing going on. There may be a problem gaining access to more—”

“Trudy, don’t anticipate it being a problem, okay? Tell Big Daddy we have a satellite phone that’s been calling another satellite phone, which was located in Geneva for months. The person at the other end might be Ahmet, the man who kidnapped the President’s daughter. If we can get to him before someone else does, he might know something about where she is now.”

“Luke, do you have any idea how tenuous that lead sounds? The terrorists probably stationed a dozen satellite phones in Geneva as blind alleys. How hard would that be? Even if it is the right man, he could well be dead. If he isn’t, he should be. Someone else probably took his phone. Satellite phone locations are notoriously bad intel. We’re always making drone strikes on satellite phones and killing the wrong people. If through some quirk of fate, Ahmet’s somehow still alive and holding that telephone, he probably handed Elizabeth over to others and immediately went another direction. The odds of him knowing where she is are slim, to put it mildly.”

“Are you playing devil’s advocate?” Luke said.

“No. I’m telling you what the official response is likely to be. Especially after what happened this morning, and the rift it caused between Big—”

“Trudy, this is a lead. A man died to get it. Do you have a better one?”

“No.”

“Then tell Big Daddy I need some troops in the Sinjar Mountains. A strike force, preferably special operators, fast and light and silent. Don’t send a battalion. I also need a spy drone, at least one. Get me these things, please. If it’s a problem to get them, then try harder.”

“Got it,” Trudy said.

“Good. Thank you. Is Swann still there?”

“I’m right here,” came the skinny man’s deep voice.

“Swann, I need you to pinpoint that location as exactly as—”

“I’m already working on it,” Swann said.

CHAPTER TWENTY SEVEN

10:05 a.m. Eastern Daylight Time (6:05 p.m. Arabic Standard Time)

The Situation Room

The White House, Washington, DC

Lawrence Keller was beginning to regret his decision.

He had known Interim President Mark Baylor for two decades, or thought he had. Now he was starting to wonder who, and what, he had known.