A Heartbeat Away - Michael Palmer [23]
“What do you want, Spinelli?”
“Put on your Sunday best, Rhodes. You’re leaving.”
“What?”
“Just what I said. You’re out of here.”
“Nine months in this cell with an hour a day walking in the yard alone, and all of a sudden, just like that, I’m out of here? This your idea of funny?”
“I wish. It’s real. Straight from the warden.”
“What’s going on?”
“I got no idea. When you get out there—” he motioned to the small barred window overlooking the exercise yard, “why don’t you ask the guys in that chopper?”
CHAPTER 11
DAY 2
1:20 A.M. (EST)
Senator Harlan Mackey had seen enough. Fear and chaos were erupting around him like Mount Vesuvius. People rushing for the exits were being forcibly turned back. And exactly where was America’s leader now? Gone. Vanished into a back room with his disgracefully inept Cabinet, looking like the reincarnation of Boss Tweed.
The Kentucky senator and majority whip would not tolerate Hiliard’s gross mishandling of this situation one second longer. Mackey’s well-known motto—No way, no how!—applied to this crisis the same as it did to any legislation he worked to defeat. And how dare Allaire violate the sanctity of the House Chamber—firing off a gun as though he were Wyatt Earp taking over some lawless Western town. People were ill, and from what Mackey could tell, they were only getting sicker. They did not need Jim Allaire. They needed medical care.
At least Mackey could feel grateful that his son’s math teacher had refused to reschedule an exam. Because of the man’s inflexibility, Jack and his mother had passed up their pilgrimage to D.C. for the State of the Union Address. Lucky them.
Many people had begun grudgingly to return to their seats, although a number of others were still milling around the aisles and shoving toward the doorways, demanding with escalating vehemence to be let out. Mackey wondered how long it would be before somebody got hurt—really hurt—by one of Allaire’s Capitol Police goons.
And what, exactly, had they been exposed to? Was Genesis really responsible? Did they really pose a threat worthy of Allaire holding the Congress and so many others hostage? If so, why didn’t they just quarantine the coughing people and let everybody else go? The closest puff of smoke was many rows away from where he was sitting, and Mackey had yet to feel any symptom at all. God knew at least a third of the chamber had that hacking cough now. If Mackey were in charge, that’s exactly what he would have done. Keep the sick away from the healthy.
Goddamn Allaire.
Did the man think they were all stupid? Of course he did. Allaire’s arrogance defied all boundaries. Well, if he thought Harlan Mackey would be a good little solider and sit tight inside a potential death trap, then he grossly underestimated this senator’s resolve.
People continued to mill around Mackey, who decided then and there that he would escape this nightmare.
“Senator Mackey! Senator Mackey!”
People continuing to converge into the center aisle, yelling at the security guards, coughing, and crying, made it hard for Mackey to spot Frost Keaton, a junior staff assistant from his office, waving his arms and calling his name. Poor Frost. For his exemplary job performance, Mackey had awarded Keaton Jack’s much sought-after SOU ticket. Keaton pushed his way through the crowd and, typically, seemed more concerned for his boss than he did for himself. Dumb kid.
“What’s going on, Senator?” Keaton asked. “Is it true that Genesis is behind this?”
“I don’t know, son. Like you, I’m waiting for the president to return. I’m sure we’ll all know something soon enough.”
“Well, I had some new ideas for our highway bill. I guess I’ll just work on those while we’re waiting.”
Mackey felt a brief pang for the twenty-two-year-old American University grad and his endless supply of