State of Siege - Tom Clancy [38]
What was improbable was not the amount of the demand. Hood knew from his banking days that up to a billion dollars was liquid in banks and in the local federal reserve institutions in New York and Boston. Even the time frame was manageable if the United Nations and the federal government put their minds to it. But they wouldn't. In order to get cooperation from local banks and the federal reserve, the United States government would have to guarantee the loan. The federal government might do that if the secretary-general asked and agreed to cover the loan with UN assets. However, the secretary-general might be afraid to do so for fear of offending nations that already resented American influence over the United Nations. And even if the United States wanted to pay the money as a means of settling part of its outstanding debt, Congress would be required to okay the expenditure. Even an emergency session could not be organized in time. And, of course, once the money was transferred, the terrorists would execute electronic transfers, scattering it in different accounts throughout the system and into linked accounts in other banks or investment groups. There would be no way to mark the funds or to stop the transfer. And there would be no way to stop the terrorists. They'd asked for a ten-seat helicopter because they intended to take hostages with them. One hostage per person, excluding the pilot. That meant there were probably four or five terrorists. All of this shot through Hood's mind in the time it took him to shut the door. He turned back into the room and managed to draw a low, shallow breath. The other parents had heard the demands and were still processing what had happened. Sharon was standing beside her husband. She was looking at him, tears trickling down her cheeks. Suddenly he was someone else: the husband. A husband who had to stay steady for his wife.
The door opened, and Hood turned. A guard leaned into the room while another guard covered the corridor. "Come with me!" the young man barked. "Quickly and quietly," he added as he waved them on. Hood stepped aside as the parents filed by. Sharon stepped with him. He took her hand in his left hand and just now remembered the phone in his right. He put it to his mouth. "Mike?" he said. "Are you still there?" "I'm here, Paul," Rodgers said. "We heard."
"We're being moved," Hood said. "I'll call back." "We'll be here," Rodgers assured him.
Hood closed the phone and slipped it back into his pocket. As the last parent left the room, Hood gave his wife's hand a gentle tug. She went along, and he followed her out. The parents were hurried past the Security Council chamber, back toward the escalators. There were a few sobs and shouted pleas for their children's return, but the guards kept the group moving. Hood was still holding Sharon's hand. She was squeezing his fingers tightly, probably without being aware of how hard she was gripping them.
As they filed onto the escalators, Hood could see more guards coming up with six-foot-high, transparent blast shields, audio equipment, and what looked like fiber-optic gear. They were obviously going to try to get a look at how the hostages were being held and also listen for snippets of conversation that might tell them who the terrorists were. But Hood knew that this wasn't going to get their kids back. The United Nations didn't have the tactical know-how or the personnel to do that. They were an organization of consensus, not action.
"Tell me you have a plan," Sharon said softly as they rode the escalators down. She was weeping openly. So were several other parents.
"We're going to think of something," Hood replied. "I need more than that," Sharon said. "Harleigh's my girl, and I'm leaving her alone and scared up there. I have to know I'm doing the right thing."
"You are," Hood said.