53
“How much longer?” President Matthews looked at Daniel and the General. They were the only occupants of the Situation Room. The Director of the CIA was on secure link from his office, his face an image in the corner of the main screen.
“Give the Coast Guard another half hour. We have to be sure. You should get some sleep, Mr. President.”
The General was right. But that wasn’t going to happen. Not while Emily was flying out there.
The main image across the screen showed the night-vision view from Emily’s Black Hawk. Mark’s helicopter hung in the upper right corner. In front and below rolled the midnight dark sea and four small boats. Apparently boats filled with Cuban refugees sailing for the promised land of the Florida Keys and not deadly chemicals.
The reason they’d called out th
