Zero Day_ A Novel - Mark Russinovich [36]
“Wow. Pretty short notice.” Her voice was steady and he felt reassured she’d do as he asked.
“It’s not just important. It’s vital.”
“Vital, huh?” From the beginning Cynthia had been impressed with Jeff’s serious and sober nature. Only when she finally grasped the full extent of it had she seriously begun to consider him for a husband. Her confidence in him and his judgment had continued to grow as they’d dated. “As in ‘life and death’?”
“You could say that.” Jeff fought off the sudden urge to tell her everything. He’d kept it inside for so long he was about to burst. But he couldn’t. He just couldn’t. It wasn’t so much that he was worried that he was wrong, but scared of the panic he could set off. She had to act on his warning and he was considering what he’d do next if she didn’t, but his serious answer seemed to sober her. “Okay. I’ll visit my folks. Won’t they be surprised?”
Jeff breathed a sigh of relief. “Thank you. Thank you. Make it all week, please. I want your promise that you’re leaving the city tomorrow morning. And no matter what, you won’t go to work next week.”
“Okay, I promise. Cross my heart, hope to die.” Cynthia was perplexed by the entire exchange. Was there a threat he couldn’t mention? Clearly that was his message. It couldn’t have been at her personally or he’d have said so. Given what he did for a living, that meant the threat was of a broader nature. The only thing that came to mind was a terrorist attack. Jeff was in a position to know about such things. And she also knew, from what little he’d told her over their time together, that most threats came to nothing. She had confidence in her country. Jeff was just being cautious and she loved him all the more for it. The worst part was, she could say nothing to her coworkers, not without getting Jeff fired or even indicted.
Jeff was a sober man, not given to extremes. If he told her that she needed to leave town, she was prepared to take his word for it. She considered her alternatives. None were appealing. She wasn’t about to drive to Albany and check into a motel for the week. Still, she’d promised, and a promise made was one to be kept. She decided to work from her home all week and arranged to have what she needed brought to her, claiming she was deathly ill and highly contagious.
Shortly after speaking with her, Jeff made a mental note to call Cynthia on Sunday, then attempted to meet with Carlton again, but was told he had no opening until the following week. Frantically, Jeff took to prowling the hallways near Carlton’s office and intercepted him on his way to a meeting. “Do you have any word yet on my report?” Jeff asked, keeping pace with his superior.
“Yes,” Carlton said, giving him a pointed look. “They’re giving it due consideration.”
“There’s more information that seems to nail next Tuesday down as a date and confirms a number of the targets including the Capitol, the White House, and the Pentagon.”
“I told you, I passed it along.” Carlton all but rolled his eyes. “Now I’ve got a meeting, Jeff. It’s been taken care of. Move on. You know these Arabs. They couldn’t organize a conga line.” With that, Carlton ducked into a conference room.
Jeff knew it was pointless going over Carlton’s head but he tried anyway. He knew he was making enemies, understood that he was effectively ending his government career, but he didn’t care. This was too important.
When everyone of consequence had gone home on Friday, he was left with nothing else to do but continue working throughout the weekend and into Monday with his team. Following a thirty-six-hour stretch, vainly searching for another bit of concrete proof, totally consumed by his work, Jeff lost track of time and never called