Chapter 3 Chapter 1 starts now

The FBI Emergency Command Center on the fifth floor of the Hoover Building is a slightly triangular room with an odd shape.This room is surprisingly small, and it is already a bit reluctant to squeeze fifteen people into it.The sixteenth report is Deputy Assistant Director Daniel. E．Murray; he was wearing casual clothes without a tie.The senior duty officer was his old friend Inspector Pat.O'Day; he was a big, rough man who used to raise cattle for fun in his hometown in northern Virginia.O'Day was listening to the phone. At this critical moment, the room responsible for handling the crisis was surprisingly quiet.When Murray came in, O'Day gave him a slight nod and raised his hand in greeting.

What happened, Pat? It was a call from Andrews Air Force Base just now, they have tapes of radar and other information.I've already asked the Washington Field Service operatives to go over there and talk to the tower guys, and NTSB will send someone to help.The current narrative seems to be that a Japan Airlines 747 flew in like a kamikaze.People at Andrews Air Force Base said the pilot of the plane declared he was flying an impromptu KLM flight when he called the emergency, and then the plane flew straight over their runway, slightly to the left On the contrary, O'Day shrugged, and the Washington Field Office has now sent people to Capitol Hill to investigate.I think this should be classified as a terrorist incident, so it's up to us.

What about the Assistant Commissioner?Murray asked, referring to the Assistant Director who headed the FBI's Washington Field Service at Cape Condor on the Potomac River. Vacation with Angie in St. Lucia.Too bad for Tony.grunted the inspector.Tony.Caruso only went on vacation three days ago.Everyone is having a bad day.A lot of people died, Dan, worse than the Oklahoma City explosion.I have notified the forensic experts to make full preparations.With so many dead bodies, we have to identify them through DNA testing.Oh, and the TV guys are still asking how the Air Force let this happen.After saying this, O'Day shook his head.He needed someone to let him off the hook, and the telecaster was just the thing.

What else is there? Pat shook his head.No.We'll have to wait and see, Dan. What about Ryan? We were on Capitol Hill just now, but we should be on our way to the White House by now.He came on camera and looked quite composed.The Secret Service mates had a rough night too, the guy I was talking to ten minutes ago barely slept.We'd better stop fighting for investigative rights. great.Murray snorted.Let's leave it to the Attorney General but there is no Attorney General and he can't call the Treasury Secretary. Inspector O'Day didn't need to sort out the relationship.A federal statute authorizes the Secret Service to lead the investigation into attacks on the president, but a separate statute gives the FBI authority over terrorism.Of course, whenever there is a murder involved, the Washington Police Department is also involved.Add to that the NTSB's involvement and until otherwise confirmed, it's possible that this was nothing more than a horrific air crash.Each agency has its own powers and areas of expertise; the Secret Service, which is smaller and less budgeted than the FBI, does have some good investigators and brilliant technologists, and the NTSB knows nothing about air crashes. No one else could, but the FBI would certainly be the leading agency in this investigation, Murray thought.It's a pity that Director Xiao is dead, without his commander in charge

My God, Murray thought.He went to military academy with Bill and was on the same squad as a rookie patrolman in Philadelphia's Strand, chasing down bank robbers Pat saw his expression and nodded.Yeah, Dan, it's a bit of a stretch for a while, isn't it?We're like a fish that got its stomach ripped out, man.He handed over a handwritten list of the dead. Even a nuclear attack wouldn't do that much damage, Murray thought as he scanned the list.If it is a widening crisis, there will be warning signs, senior officials can slowly and quietly leave Washington and find other homes, and many people will survive or let policymakers escape the attack. After the events are over, they will at least have a somewhat functioning government to pick up the pieces.However, nothing can be done now.

Wren has been to the White House countless times, either to visit, give briefings, or participate in meetings large and small, and most recently he is working in his White House office as national security adviser.This was the first time he entered the White House without showing his ID or through the metal detection gate. Out of habit, he passed through a detection gate in a regular manner, but this time the annunciator sounded, but he did not take out the key. walked over.At this time, the attitude of Secret Service agents also changed; like everyone else, they felt relieved to be in this familiar environment.And while the country is only just learning a lesson: security is an illusion, for trained professionals, illusions are more reassuring than being duped.The entourage put the gun in the holster, buttoned up the coat, and let out a long breath as they entered the east entrance.

Something inside Ryan said: This was his house now, but he didn't want to believe it was real.Successive presidents like to call it the Palace of the People, painting the place in a politically hypocritical tone; some of them say they would sacrifice their children for it, and then downplay it.If lies stained the walls, Wren thought, the building would have to have a different name altogether.But there have been great achievements here too, and those achievements are more shocking than political scumbags.Here, James.Monroe published his Monroe Doctrine, propelling his country into the strategic world for the first time.Here, Lincoln united the country through the strength of his will.Here, Teddy.Roosevelt (Editor's Note: Teddy Roosevelt, the twenty-sixth president of the United States, proposed a great stick policy) made the United States truly occupy a place in the world, and sent his great white fleet to sail around the world, declaring the existence of the United States of America.Here, Teddy's distant cousin (Editor's Note: Refers to Franklin Delano Roosevelt, the thirty-second president of the United States, that is, Roosevelt who served during World War II) was biting a cigar in the chaotic and pessimistic domestic situation, Saved his country with his slightly nasal voice.Here, Eisenhower wielded power so deftly that few noticed what he was doing.Here, Kennedy subjugates Khrushchev, without anyone noticing how many blunders are being covered up in doing so.Here, Reagan hatched a plan to destroy America's number one enemy, only to be accused of sleeping through the night.What is the most important thing?Is it achievement, or is it a dirty little secret kept by those who temporarily overcome their weaknesses?It is true, however, that it is these fleeting and imperfect acts that make up history today, but most of them have been forgotten only by those revisionist historians who have not yet recognized the fact that human beings are not saints.

But it's not his house yet. The entrance of the White House adopts a channel-shaped design, leading directly to the bottom of the East Wing.The first lady in the East Wing was Ann. Ninety minutes ago.Doolin's office.By law, first ladies are just ordinary citizens, a grotesque fictional definition of someone with government employees at their disposal.In dealing with unofficial affairs, however, her role is quite powerful.The walls here are as elegant as a museum, not like an ordinary house.They walked past the small theater at the White House, where the president can watch a movie with a hundred relatives and friends.There are also several statues here, many of which are by Remington (Editor's note: Frederic Remington, American oil painter, illustrator and sculptor), and the subjects presented are mostly pure Americana material.The paintings were all of former presidents, and Lane noticed that their lifeless eyes looked down at him with suspicion; Dean is looking at him

I am a historian.Ren said to himself.I've written books and commented on other people's behavior from a safe distance in time and space.Why didn't he see this?Why doesn't he do that?Now he finally understood, but it was too late.Now that he's here, as the person involved, he sees things in a different way.As an outsider, you can see what's going on, catch it as it happens, analyze it, stop it if necessary; you can even let it go backwards and slowly figure it out. However, from the perspective of the parties involved, it is not the case at all.Everything here is like a series of Mercedes-Benz trains, rushing straight from all directions.They go on their own schedule, leaving little room for processing and thinking.These people in the painting have not only ample time to consider their inauguration matters before coming to this place, but also have a group of trusted and well-meaning advisors to consult.These are advantages that he lacked, but historians simply brush them off in a paragraph or a page, and then proceed to grim analysis.

Ren knew that all his words and deeds had to be consistent with people's cognition afterwards, not just focusing on this moment.Now people look at his past to understand his character, beliefs and conduct.From the moment the plane crashed into the Capitol, he became president, and his every move after that will be analyzed in a new and inexcusable light for posterity.He will have no privacy in his day-to-day life, even in his death, from people who will not know what it is like to walk into this huge museum-like home and office.He knew it would be his eternal prison; it was invisible, but perhaps that was all the more terrifying.

Many people covet this position, only to find it scary and discouraging in the end.Wren learned this from reading history books and watching three people who have been in the Oval Office up close.At least they should be prepared when they come here, or maybe they will be criticized for being high-minded.Isn't that bad for a guy who never thought he'd get it?And will history be kinder in judging Rennes?This will only be sneered at.No, he came to the White House in a time of need for the country, and if he doesn't meet that need, he'll be dismissed as a failure all his life, even if his succession was just an accident position. For those of the Secret Service, there is now a little breather.Fair or not, they were lucky, Wren thought bitterly.Their job was to protect him and his family, and it's his job now to protect them and their family, and millions of others. This way please, Mr. President.Price turned left and walked down the first-floor hallway.Wren saw for the first time White House staffers standing there awaiting their new masters.Like everyone else, they just stand there, not knowing what to say.They eyed him without giving away their feelings, though they exchanged ideas in the dressing room and dining room every chance they got.Ryan was still wearing his tie and the fire suit.Frozen sprays in his hair made him look older than he should have been, and melting.As the entourage continued west, a staff member ran out.He reappeared a few minutes later, flew past the guards, and handed Ryan a towel. Thanks.Ren said with some surprise.He paused, then began to dry his hair.At this time, he saw a photographer, pointed the camera at him, and happily pressed the shutter, but the secret service personnel did not stop him.Well, Wren thought, that means he's also one of the staff photographers at the White House, and it's his job to document everything.Great, even my own men are spying on me!But now is not the time to deal with such things, is it? Where are we going, Andrea?Wren asked as he passed portraits of presidents and first ladies staring at him. I think it's the oval office Going to the situation room, Ren stopped and continued to wipe with a towel. I'm not ready to enter that room, okay? Of course, Mr. President.At the end of the wide corridor, they turned left into a small corridor with a lattice pattern on the walls and then turned right again, for there was no corridor from the White House to the West Wing.That's when Ryan realized why no one asked him to take off his coat. coffee.Ryan ordered what he asked for, at least the food service here was good.The White House dining room is run by the Navy's catering department, and a sailor pours coffee from a silver jug ​​into an elegant cup. It is the first cup of coffee he drank as president.The sailor's smile was professional but sincere; like everyone else, he was curious about his new boss.It was interesting, even funny, that Ryan felt like a zoo animal and how would he fit into this new cage? Same room, different seats; the president sits in the middle of the table, with aides on either side of him.Ren found his seat and sat down very naturally.Anyway, it's just a chair.Ryan sipped his coffee and looked around; the clock on the wall showed that it was eleven fourteen in the evening.How long has he been president?Ninety minutes?About the time from when he leaves home to when he arrives at his new home, depending on traffic. where is annie Here, Mr. President.Arnold.said Van Damme, coming in through the door.He was the chief of staff of two presidents, and now he will become the chief of staff of the third president.The first president he served resigned, the second died, and the third died.Ren's eyes stared at him, asking silently: What am I going to do now? Your presentation on TV was well done, as it should be.The chief of staff took a seat at the other end of the table.He looked calm and competent as usual. I don't even know what I said.Ren replied, searching for lost memories. It's always the same in extemporaneous speeches, said Van Damme understandingly. What should we do first?Ryan asked. The banks, the stock market, all the federal agencies are closed, so wait until the weekend or next week.We're going to have a state funeral for Roger and Ann, a week of national mourning, and maybe a month of flags at half-staff.Also, there was a group of ambassadors in the chamber at the time, which meant we were going to have a whole lot of diplomacy that we had to do first.We call it chores and Van Damme held up his hand and said, sorry, had to find a word for this whole bunch of things. What We have a concierge here, Jack, Van Damme points out, and they already take care of everything for you in their own little office.We also have a team of speech writers who will prepare the official statement for you.People in the press want to see you I mean you have to come out in public to reassure people and restore people's confidence when? Morning news at the latest, CNN and all the networks.I think it would be nice to be on camera within an hour, but it doesn't have to be, let's say you're busy; and you are.Arnie promises that before going on TV, someone will explain to you what you can and cannot say.We will limit the press, tell them what they can and cannot ask, and they will cooperate under the circumstances.We reckon you'll have about a good week to live; it's your news honeymoon, but it won't last long. Then what?Ryan asked. Then you're a real president, do what you have to do, Jack.Van Damme was blunt, you don't have to take the oath, remember? Ren was shocked by these words.Out of the corner of his eye he caught sight of the expressionless faces of the other people in the room; they were all Secret Service agents, he was their new boss, and their eyes were exactly the same as those of the portraits hanging in the West Wing. Same.They expected him to do something; they supported him, they protected him from others and from themselves, but they would not allow Rain to escape, either from his position or from his responsibilities. It's a prison. However, Arnie was right when he said that he could have refused to be sworn in, but he couldn't, Wren thought, looking down at the smooth oak table top.If that was the case, he would forever be called a coward, and worse, he would call himself that, and he would be more lethal than any outsider.It was in his nature to bow to introspection, and he felt he needed to be strengthened; he knew he was a good guy, but not good enough.He's the president now, the one who calls the shots, the one who makes a speech and others have to microanalyze and correct it; the one who decides what America does and then has people commenting on and criticizing him, even though those people are against what they say I don't know how to do it. Magill saw that the fire was extinguished, but he still had to be careful, because there were always some flames that seemed to be extinguished, waiting for the opportunity to rekindle, surprising the unwary, and even killing the serious ones. Now he was surrounded by people, each wearing a single-layer plastic jacket with big yellow letters to identify them.The FBI, Secret Service, D.C. Police Department, NTSA, and Treasury Department's Bureau of Alcohol, Tobacco and Arms had teams on the scene, plus his own fire investigators, all of whom were looking for the person in charge to claim their own Command.But instead of holding a temporary meeting to discuss countermeasures and establish their own command system, they stood together in groups with clear barriers; probably waiting for someone to tell them who was in charge.Magill shook his head; he'd seen this kind of thing before. The bodies were quickly carried out one by one, and sent to the DC Armory by the railroad about a mile north of Capitol Hill.Magill wasn't envious of the forensics team, but at this point he really wanted to see the extent of the damage. team leader?asked a voice behind him. Magill turned around and replied: Huh? I'm from the NTSA; can we start looking for flight recorders?The man pointed to the tail of the plane.Although the tail of the plane is in tatters, it is still recognizable, and the so-called black box may be there somewhere.The place has pretty much been cleared, and most of the rubble has been moved to the west; they might actually have a chance of finding it soon. OKMagill nodded and directed the two firefighters to cooperate with the crash team. Can you tell your guys to try not to move the debris?We need to do an on-site rebuild, and leaving things where they are will help. Those people and those corpses have to be brought out first.Magill pointed out.The federal officer grimaced and nodded; but no one thought it was funny. I know, he paused and said, if you spot the crew, please don't move them.Let us know and we'll take care of it, okay? How do we know who the crew is? Wearing a white shirt with horizontal epaulettes, he may be Japanese. This may sound absurd, but it is not.Magill knew that some bodies did often remain in such incredible condition in air crashes that only a trained person could see how they died at a glance, which often confused the civilian staff who were first on the scene. Restless.Magill shook his head and asked one of his men to pass on the special order. The firefighters below have had enough.The first special order, of course, was to find and remove Roger.President During's body, this is the top priority, and an ambulance specially prepared to carry the president's body has been parked and waited.A crane on the other side of the house is removing the stones that cover the podium area, as if moving a stack of scattered blocks; in the harsh light, only the letters and numbers painted on the edge of the podium seem to make people feel This is not fantasy. All government departments are packed, especially those high-ranking officials.Usually, most of the parking spaces for dignitaries are vacant at midnight, but tonight they were full, even for the State Department.Security personnel were called in, too, because an attack on any one government agency was an attack on the whole government, even if the attack didn't do much for the gunmen.Now that something has happened, something has to be done, because these actions have to be recorded.The security guards with guns looked at each other and shook their heads, knowing that they were going to be paid overtime again, this time being summoned by big shots who had come here from their homes in Chevy Chase and suburban Virginia. One of those people found a parking space in the underground parking lot, used his access card to open the VIP elevator, and pressed the button for the seventh floor.Unlike others, he had a great mission tonight, and although he had been thinking about it all the way from his home in Great Falls, what could he do?Everything about him is Ed.Kilt gave him his position in Washington, his career at the State Department, and many other things.The country needed men like Ed right now; Ed told him as much, and took it for granted.And what was he doing himself?A small voice came from the car: treason.No, it doesn't, because treason is the only crime established by the Constitution, defined as aid and service to the enemies of the state.And regardless of Ed.What's Kirti doing, that's not what he does, right? Then there's the question of loyalty.Like many others, he was Ed.The Kilties, whose friendship began at Harvard over beers and weekends on the water; what a joy it was to be young.He came from a blue-collar class, but he was able to become the guest of a famous family in the United States, mainly because he attracted the attention of young Ed.But why?He didn't know, never asked, and maybe he'd never find out.Perhaps, if he relies on his own strength, he can also develop very well.God gave him talent, and his parents encouraged him to develop his talents and taught him the methods and values ​​of life.He was thinking about this value with his eyes closed when the elevator doors opened; yes, loyalty is a value, isn't it?He couldn't have climbed the ranks of deputy assistant secretary of state without Ed's help.He would not have risen without the banquets that allowed him to meet and talk with the powerful.And the money; he never took any bribes, but his friend Ed wisely advised him (advice from his own advisers, but it didn't matter) to invest in the investments that kept him afloat Independent, and purchased a 5,000-square-foot estate in Great Rapids, and sent his son to Harvard.He could not have climbed to this position on his own, and it was all thanks to his loyalty. This idea makes Clifton.Rutledge II (actually his birth certificate says Clifton Rutledge Jr., though that's not a good word for a man of his stature) the secretary of state in charge of political affairs feels at ease some. The rest is just a matter of computing time.There were always guards on the seventh floor, and even more so now, but they all knew him, and he just had to pretend he was serious.Now there were only two guards on this floor, splitting their patrols; Rutledge looked at his watch and counted the time between his steps, and found that the intervals were always ten seconds.Great, he waits for the next interval to act. Hi Willie. Good night, sir, replied the guard, it has been a terrible night. do me a favor what sir Go get some coffee, there's no secretary to turn on the coffee machine now, can you go to the cafeteria and ask them to bring you a jug?Tell them to take it to the conference room, we have a meeting in a few minutes. sure.Do you want to go now? If it's convenient for you, Willie. I'll be back in five minutes, Mr. Rutledge.The guard strode away, turned right at twenty yards, and disappeared from sight. Rutledge counted to ten, then walked in the other direction.The double doors of the Secretary of State's office were unlocked.Rutledge went straight through the first door, then the second, and turned on the light at the same time.He only has three minutes.In fact, he really hoped that the file was locked in Brett.In the safe in Hansen's office, so that he can't get it, because the combination of the safe is known only to Brett, his two assistants and the security director, and there is an alarm device on it.But Brett was a careless person who thought about it and then forgot about it; he was the kind of guy who never locked the car or even the house unless his wife told him to.Rutledge opened the middle drawer of his desk and found some everyday pencils, cheap pens (he kept losing them), and paper clips.Rutledge searched carefully up and down the desk, almost relieved that a minute passed without finding anything.When he finally checked the desktop, he was really relieved and almost laughed out loud.On a blotter was an unstamped white envelope addressed to the Secretary of State.Rutledge picked it up and felt the edge of the envelope.The letter was not sealed; he unsealed it and took out the letter.The paper consisted of only one page with two printed paragraphs on it.At this time, Cliff.Rutledge shuddered.So far, everything was theoretical, and he could put it back and forget that he had been here, forget that call, forget everything.It's been two minutes. Has Bright already signed for it?Maybe not.Yes, he was a gentleman in everything he did, and he wouldn't humiliate Ed like that.Ed has maintained his dignity by resigning, and Brett should also give a decent response. He will definitely shake hands with regret, which is what it should be.Two minutes and fifteen seconds. He decides.Rutledge stuffed the letter into his coat pocket and walked toward the door.He turned off the light, went back to the corridor, and stopped at the door of his office.He waited there for half a minute. Hi Jocha. Hi Mr. Rutledge. I just told Willie to go down and get some coffee. good idea sir.really bad tonight, really Yes, I think so too.Bright probably died along with others. hateful. Better lock his office, I just checked his door Yes, sir.George.Armitage produced a bunch of keys and found the one in the office.he always does I know.Rutledge nodded. You know, two weeks ago, I found out that his safe was unlocked.He may have turned the handle, but forgot to turn the combination dial.He shook his head, I guess he probably never got robbed, right? That's a security concern.The secretary of state in charge of political affairs lamented that the big men are always informal, aren't they? Well done.Who did it?The answer is still unknown.The TV station reporter had no other pictures to shoot, so he had to keep aiming the camera at the tail fin.He remembered the symbol well, because long ago he had taken part in an operation where he had blown up an airplane with one of these flamingos on its tail.He almost regretted it now, but jealousy overwhelmed the feeling.As the top terrorist in the world, he can only use this adjective in his own mind, playing with this adjective, he feels that this kind of thing should be done by himself, not with the help of an amateur killer.He was about to learn the amateur hitman's name from television reports as well as the rest of the world.It is so ironic that from a young age he has been researching and engaging in political violence, learning, thinking, planning and executing such actions.At first he was just a participant, and eventually he became the leader and commander.But now, some amateur hitman outranked him, over all the experts in his circle.It was a good job, but it was also embarrassing for him. His well-trained brain quickly searched for all kinds of possibilities, and soon came to a conclusion.One guy did it, maybe two, but it's more like one guy did it.As usual, he pursed his lips and nodded in thought.A man who is willing to die, who sacrifices himself for a purpose, whatever it may be, is probably more terrible than an army.Take this matter as an example, the mysterious killer possessed special skills and used special means, both of which helped him successfully complete his mission. Fortunately for him, this is the advantage of being alone, because one person tends to keep secrets; this is a problem he often encounters, trying to find the right person, someone he can trust, and he will not brag or leak to others. The man with a sense of purpose, self-discipline, and willingness to risk his life is the most difficult; he has to admit that he is running out of dedicated devotees. Always shrewder and farsighted than his peers, he had to take part in three truly dangerous operations.Although he did what he had to do with determination, he didn't want to do it a second time, it was too dangerous after all.Not because of fear of the consequences of their actions, but because once a terrorist dies, he can no longer carry out his mission.He was prepared to die in the line of duty, but that was not what he was really after.What he really wanted after all was to be successful, to be able to benefit from his actions, and to be seen as a victor, a conqueror, a page in the history books that future generations would read, not just a footnote.The successful mission is being broadcast on television and the horror will be remembered.This is not a man-made disaster, but more like a natural disaster in that, while it was well done, it had no political purpose.But it is not enough to just say that this is an accident. There must be a reason and a result behind it.Such a success would not be considered a success unless there were other factors involved.But that's obviously not the case, it's too bad, it doesn't happen often No, the man reached for the orange juice and took a few sips before thinking again.Unusual?Never seen it at all, did you?Historically, Assassins of the past have often been able to overthrow or at least bring down a government with just one kill.Compared with the feats of the emissaries in the cottage, the current world is too complicated.Kill a president or prime minister, and someone else will fill the vacancy.That was clearly the case this time, but the situation was a little different this time.Behind the successors, there are no cabinet members who put on their angry faces the look of unity, determination and continued effort.If anything, something bigger and more important was brewing when this plane went down.Even if it is not, there is much to be learned from its successes and failures, and the consequences, whether planned or not, are a real truth. Are you looking for Mr. President?A Secret Service operator picked up the phone.Usually this is done by the Navy clerk, but because the guards are still in a lingering fear, no one is allowed into the situation room.The FBI is calling, sir. Ren picked up the phone.Hello? I am Dan.Murray.Hearing this familiar and friendly voice, Ren almost smiled.He and Murray have known each other for a long time, and for Murray, he must have wanted to shout: Hi, Jack.But he won't do this, and he can't do it casually. Even if Ren asked him to do this, he would feel awkward, and he might be regarded as a sycophant by the people in the bureau.Another unnatural obstacle, Wren thought.Even his friends are alienating him. What's the matter, Dan? Sorry to bother you, but we need instructions as to who is in charge of the investigation.There's a bunch of people running around on Capitol Hill right now, and A unity of command issue?Ren said angrily.He didn't have to ask Murray why he had called him, because all the lower officials who could decide the matter were dead.How is it stipulated in law? Nothing special.Murray replied, unease evident in his voice.He didn't want to bother the man who had been his friend and certainly in private.But this is official business and has to be done. Multiple jurisdictions? Absolutely.Although the other party could not see, Murray nodded affirmatively. I guess we can call it a horror event.You and I call it that all the time, right?Ryan asked. Indeed, sir. gentlemen?Ryan thought.Hell, but he still had one more decision to make.Ren scanned the room, and then said: This matter is led by the Bureau of Investigation, and other units must report to you.Get someone savvy in charge. Yes, sir. Dan? Yes, Mr. President? Who has the highest rank in the FBI right now? Deputy Chief Chuck.Floyd, he went to Atlanta to give a speech, and then the assistant directors, they are all Murray's bosses. I don't know him, I only know you.You are now Acting Commissioner, unless I arrange otherwise.雷恩馬上感覺到對方因為自己的這番話而產生的震驚。 呃，傑克，我 我以前也很喜歡蕭，丹。你上任吧。 Yes, Mr. President. 雷恩放下電話，宣佈了剛才的決定。 普萊斯首先反對道：先生，任何攻擊總統的行動都是由雷恩打斷了她的話。 他們的資源更多，而且總得有人指揮吧。我想盡快把這個人選定下來。 我們需要一個特別委員會。Ani.范達姆說。 由誰來主持呢？雷恩總統問道，一個大法官？幾個參議員和眾議員？摩瑞很久以前就是個專家了。找個好的派司法部刑事司的資深官員來監督調查活動。安德麗，給我在密勤局裡找個最優秀的幹員擔任摩瑞的首席助理。我們也沒什麼外面的人可用，對吧？既然得從內部找人，就挑些最好的人才放手讓他們去幹吧。他停頓了一下，我希望這個調查能進展得快一些，行嗎？ 好的，總統先生。普萊斯點了點頭，而阿尼．范達姆也點頭表示同意。雷恩心想也許自己這次做對了，但這種滿足感轉瞬即逝。遠處的牆角邊有排電視螢幕，大都顯示著同一個畫面，而畫面中的攝影機閃光燈引起了總統的注意。他轉身去看那四個螢幕：一個屍袋被抬下國會大廈西廂的台階；又是一具有待辨認的屍體。搬運屍體的消防隊員們那緊繃、洩氣、悲傷的面孔，吸引了某個不知名的新聞記者和他的攝影機及閃光燈；而這個畫面也把總統帶回了他本想迴避的現實之中。攝影機鏡頭隨著兩名消防隊員和屍袋來到一輛救護車前，有人接住被抬過來的袋子，輕輕地遞進去，表現了這些專業人員對這些已離開人世的屍體的尊重。當所有人的眼睛都看著這同一個畫面時，整個狀況室頓時陷入一片寂靜。有人深呼了幾口氣，但可能是因為太剛強，或是受到的震撼太大，因此連眼淚都流不出來。之後，一雙雙眼睛接連轉向別處，望著光滑的橡木桌面；沒人知道要說什麼話來打破這種沉默。 現在還要做些什麼？Ryan asked.他已疲憊不堪，早先面對死者、擔心家人、痛惜災難的那一股股巨大心理壓力，此時已開始發揮效應。他感到胸口悶塞，雙臂也沉得抬不起來，彷彿大衣的袖子是鉛做的。突然之間，他連抬頭都覺得很費力。此刻是十一點三十五分；從今天凌晨四點十分開始，他就不斷地為猝然接任了只有八分鐘的工作接受訪問。曾支持他撐過來的那股高漲情緒已經消失了，持續兩個小時下來，他只覺得更加精疲力盡。他環顧四周，問了一個看來很重要的問題： 我今晚睡哪兒？當然不是這裡，雷恩當下決定。不能睡在死者的床上，蓋著他的被單，而且還離他的孩子只有幾碼遠。他想跟自己的家人在一起，看看自己的孩子現在他們也許睡了，因為孩子在什麼情況下都能睡著然後去感受妻子的熱情擁抱，因為在雷恩的世界中，這是唯一不變的東西，儘管一個個旋風般的事件已經強制性地給了他一個自己原本不追求也不期盼的生活。 幹員們彼此交換了一下困惑的目光，這時安德麗．普萊斯說話了這是她的本性，也是她現在的工作。 去海軍陸戰隊的營區好嗎？在I街和第八街的交界處。 雷恩點點頭：就暫時這樣吧。 普萊斯對著別在她套裝領子上的無線電麥克風說道：劍客立即行動。派車到西門來。 衛隊的幹員們站了起來，握著槍走了出去。 五點之前我們不會去打擾您。范達姆保證道，然後又加了一句：一定要好好睡一下。雷恩沒有答話，只是怔怔地望了他一眼便離開了房間。一個白宮侍從為他披上大衣；這大衣是誰的，又是從哪裡拿來的？雷恩不想多問。他坐進車子後座，隨即車子便開動了。前面有一輛相同車型的前導車，後面還跟了三輛。雷恩可以不去看窗外，但卻躲不過聲音。防彈玻璃外傳來尖嘯的警報聲，火光已經沒了，取而代之的是幾十輛救護車發出的閃光。有些救護車在移動，大多數則停在國會山莊附近。警察仍然在市區街道上實施管制，總統車隊向東疾駛而去，十分鐘後來到海軍陸戰隊營區。這裡的每個人現在都醒了，他看到每個陸戰隊隊員都衣冠整齊，手持步槍或手槍，精神抖擻地敬禮致意。 海軍陸戰隊司令的官邸歷史悠久，始建於十九世紀初期，是少數幾個沒在一八一四年被英軍焚毀的官邸之一。但是，司令現在死了他在妻子病逝，孩子長大成人之後，便一個人住在這裡，直到昨天晚上為止。此刻，有一個腰間別著槍套的上校，筆挺地站在門廊處，房子四周站著一排士兵。 總統先生，您的家人在樓上，都很安全。mark.波特上校立即報告道，我們已經派了一個步兵連在周圍警戒，另一個連正在路上。 新聞媒體呢？普萊斯問道。 我沒得到這方面的指示，我的任務是保護我們的客人。二百公尺以內所部署的人員都是陸戰隊的人。 Thank you, Colonel.雷恩說道，沒再多問新聞媒體的事，只是逕直向大門走去。一個中士把門打開，敬了個禮，雷恩也不加思索地回了禮。屋內，一個高階士官為他指出樓梯的所在處，並同時敬了個禮，雷恩照樣回禮。雷恩到現在才明白，他是不能單獨隨便走動的。普萊斯和另一位幹員，以及兩位海軍陸戰隊隊員跟著他上了樓；樓上還有兩位幹員和五位陸戰隊隊員。十一點五十四分時，他終於走進了臥室，看見妻子坐在那裡。 Hi. 傑克，她把頭轉了過來，這都是真的嗎？ 他點點頭，猶豫了一下，然後坐到凱西身邊：孩子呢？ asleep.她停了一下，然後又說道：他們不太清楚發生了什麼事。我們是不是死了四個人。 five. 總統也死了嗎？凱西看見丈夫點點頭，我都還沒機會認識他呢。 He is a good man.他的孩子現在在白宮，都睡了。我不知道是否該做些什麼，所以就到這裡來了。雷恩伸手把領帶解開；似乎連這件事都讓他覺得很費勁。他決定還是別去打擾孩子了，因為現在要他走那麼遠簡直就是折磨。 What now? 我得睡覺，他們五點會來叫我。 那我們該做些什麼呢？ I have no idea.雷恩勉強地脫下衣服，希望新的一天會為他帶來至今仍未找到的答案。