was their idea,” McCabe said. “Tried to get ’em to back down, but they were stubborn about it.”
“Damn fools, if you ask me,” the other man said.
McCabe turned to Lindy. “Why don’t you call it a night and go home?”
She still looked a little dazed by what she had seen. After a moment, she nodded and said, “Yeah. Yeah, I might just do that.”
“Before you go, though,” McCabe said, “get out the money they paid you.”
That brought her back to earth. “You mean I really have to give it back to them?”
“Seems like that would be the fair thing to do, considering.”
“Do you know what those bastards wanted to do to me?”
McCabe shook his head. “Nope. And I don’t want to know. Just get out the money they paid you.”
Grumbling, she dug several wadded-up bills from her purse and tried to give them to McCabe. He pointed to the driver who had greeted him earlier and said, “Give it to Roy here. He’s honest, and he’ll see to it that the money gets back to its rightful owners.”
Grudgingly, Lindy handed the bills to the driver called Roy. “Now what?” she asked McCabe.
“Now you go home and don’t be around when these fellas recover from our little dance. And I go get some coffee and something to eat and some sleep for what’s left of the night.”
Lindy watched him go and said, “I don’t get it. He was worried about me being here when those guys wake up, but he’s staying.”
“That’s because he knows he can take care of himself,” Roy told her. “Those dumb bastards picked the wrong guy to tangle with.”
Lindy frowned. “He’s just a truck driver, isn’t he?”
“Just a truck driver?” Roy laughed. “Honey, that’s Jackknife McCabe. Ex-Special Forces. He was in Desert Storm, then went back to Iraq years later, after stopovers in Afghanistan, Pakistan, and probably half a dozen of those other ’istan places that used to be part of Russia. Lord knows where-all he’s been and what he’s done, because he won’t talk much about it. But I’ll tell you this much…those fellas who were hasslin’ you, they’re lucky to be alive right now. I reckon a lot of bad guys who’ve run up against ol’ Jackknife…ain’t anymore.”
Israeli Jets Hit Iranian Nuke Facilities
WASHINGTON, D.C., NOV. 16, 03:42 PM, US/EASTERN, ASSOCIATED PRESS. Sources at the White House and the Pentagon, as well as in Tel Aviv, confirm that Israel has launched an air strike against the Iranian nuclear facility in Bushehr. Israeli fighter jets armed with conventional missiles and bombs attacked the facility before dawn this morning. Sources within the Israeli air force say that the target was completely destroyed. However, a spokesman for the Iranian government issued a statement claiming that damage was minor and that the only casualties were innocent civilian workers.
The facility has long been rumored to be an important part of Iran’s nuclear weapons program. Speaking on condition of anonymity, an Israeli intelligence officer said, “We have set them back at least five years with this action.”
Iranian officials called the attack an act of wanton, lawless aggression against a peaceful nation and called on the world community to express its outrage over this unilateral assault by Israel. The Secretary General of the United Nations has convened the Security Council and has promised a full investigation of the incident.
The White House is withholding comment for the time being. Press Secretary Davisson said, “I assure you, the President is on top of the situation and will be issuing a statement as soon as she is certain that she has all the facts concerning this incident. I can tell you, though, that she considers this situation to be very grave, and that the response of the United States will be measured and appropriate.”
CHAPTER 4
The President’s index finger stabbed angrily at the remote control as she switched through the channels on the TV monitor that had been set up in the Oval Office. The story was the same on every network.
“…aggression by the Israelis…”
“…unconscionable arrogance…”
“…unprovoked act of war…”
Well, almost every network.
“You’re an absolutely terrible singer. Just appallingly bad.”
The President jabbed the button that turned the monitor off. One by one, she looked at the advisors gathered around her.
During the campaign that had gotten her elected, she had promised a rainbow administration, and she had followed through on that promise. The Vice President was young, handsome, and black. The Secretary of State was Hispanic. The National Security Advisor was a striking Chinese American woman who was rumored to be bisexual. The Secretary of Defense was female, too, a former general in the Air Force. The Chairman of the Joint Chiefs of Staff was the only white male in the room other than the President’s husband, who sat quietly in a corner, if the Oval Office could really be said to have corners.
Despite the carefully calculated diversity of the group, at this moment, after being called to this emergency meeting in the White House, they all had a couple of very important things in common: They were scared, and they didn’t know what to do.
“Well?” the President snapped. “What’s our response to this going to be?”
“How bad is it really?” the Vice President asked. “In military terms, that is.”
The President looked at the Secretary of Defense, who said, “The Israelis blew the crap out of the place. Leveled it. It was a good clean strike, too, with little or no collateral damage, despite what the Iranians are saying. Our satellite imagery confirmed all of that.”
“What about civilian casualties?” the President asked.
The SecDef shrugged. “I’m sure any workers who were inside the plant at that hour were probably civilians. But they were civilians who knew damned good and well that they were working on nuclear weapons that were intended to one day blow Israel off the face of the earth. I wouldn’t call that innocent.”
“What about the civilian workers at our nuclear facilities?” the President shot back. “Wouldn’t you consider them innocent?”
“Of course I would.”
The President folded her arms across her chest. “Well, the Iranians feel the same way about their people.” She prided herself on being able to empathize with other points of view—especially those of America’s enemies. “I don’t see any way we can support Israel on this.”
“What about sixty years of friendship between the United States and Israel?” asked the National Security Advisor. “Doesn’t that count for anything?”
The President frowned. She wasn’t sure she liked or trusted the NSA. The woman had a brilliant mind and all the proper academic credentials, as well as mixed ethnicity, debatable sexuality, and camera-friendly looks. She was freakin’ perfect, as the President’s husband had put it…except for the fact that the President had come to realize that she didn’t fully share all of the administration’s views. Neither did SecDef, but being a good soldier, she would go along with whatever her commander in chief said.
“Israel is still our friend,” the President said as she looked at the NSA. “But that doesn’t mean we have to be one hundred percent in favor of anything Israel happens to do.”
The Asian American woman shrugged. “Respond however you want, of course, but if you condemn Israel’s action it’ll be a slap in the face. The Israelis won’t forget it. And it’ll make you look like you’re waffling and soft on the threat of Islamofascism.”
“We