Fall of Night (Dead of Night Series) by Jonathan Maberry Read Free Book Online

room, Trout could hear sobs and the eerie echo of a broken man singing a broken lullaby to a broken little girl.
    Billy Trout leaned his back against the wall and closed his eyes and tried to think of a way out of this.

 
    CHAPTER FOURTEEN
    THE OVAL OFFICE
    THE WHITE HOUSE, WASHINGTON, D.C.
    Scott Blair was admitted to the Oval Office and was pleased to find himself alone with the president.
    “You made your changes?” asked the president, holding a hand out for the speech.
    “I did, Mr. President.” He handed over the papers and waited while the president read through it. Then POTUS removed his glasses and sat back in his chair to appraise him.
    “This is what you want me to say?”
    “This is what I think needs to be said.”
    “What about the Trout video?”
    “Our people are tearing it to pieces online. By morning it won’t be any part of the official story.”
    “What about the popular story?”
    “We’ll manage it and we’ll weather it.”
    The president smiled. “You’re beginning to sound like Sylvia.”
    God forbid, thought Blair, but managed a bland smile. “We have to protect the administration if we’re going to win this.”
    “We beat this, Scott. Not sure why everyone else thinks so and you don’t.”
    Because I don’t have my head up my ass, he almost said, but managed to think it through first. Instead he said, “I know you and Simeon Zetter are friends, and I know you trust him…”
    “Implicitly.”
    “Understood. I, however, do not trust anyone implicitly. It’s my job not to make assumptions.”
    “Are you saying that’s what I’m doing?”
    “I’m saying that’s what everyone is doing, Mr. President. We are all in shock because of this, and we are all cognizant of the implications of last night’s events. Heads will roll here in Washington, even with the spin control we’re using. Heads will have to roll. Dietrich will take the most heat, but everyone knows that a soldier follows orders. Unless we intend to crucify him as a rogue who exceeded all authority including a presidential order—which would put him in jail—then we’ll have to hang others out to dry. That’s a political fact.”
    The president shifted uncomfortably in his seat, but he did not disagree.
    “But all of that is secondary, Mr. President. I can’t stress enough how strongly I believe that this matter is not over .”
    “General Zetter is in Stebbins, Scott. You’re not.”
    Neither are you, you officious moron, thought Blair.
    “Sir,” Blair began slowly, but the president cut him off.
    “I’m not ordering another attack on Stebbins.”
    “I understand that, sir, but to put it quite simply, Simeon Zetter is nearing the end of his career, and even though he was formidable in the field once upon a time, I think now he’s become more of a politician than a soldier. He is supporting you and your presidency. I don’t know that I entirely trust his assessment of the situation in Stebbins, because we have to accept the possibility that he is wrong about containment, we must—absolutely must—get Dr. Volker’s research notes.”
    “I thought you said we’d find Volker.”
    “We will, but we haven’t yet, and every minute we spend looking is time not spent preparing for contingencies.”
    The president considered, nodded. “Did you have something in mind?”
    “Yes. Trout has that research on Volker’s flash drives. Sir, I would like to—”
    “Stop right there, Scott. I know what you want to do. You want the Guard to storm the school and take those drives away from Trout. I won’t do that. What I have done is order General Zetter to obtain the drives. This he will do. End of discussion.”
    Blair wondered if he could throttle the president before the Secret Service could stop him.
    “Now … is there something else you’d like to discuss, Scott?” asked the president.
    “Yes, sir,” said Blair tiredly, “but it concerns General Zetter. If … I may speak candidly—?”
    The