Force of Nature by Suzanne Brockmann Read Free Book Online

members of the President’s staff were sitting in a circular grouping of couches and chairs.
    “How’re Gina and the baby?” Alan Bryant was asking as he shook Max’s hand. “Emma, right?”
    “Thank you, sir,” Max said. “They’re both doing well.”
    “Mr. Cassidy, how’s the leg?” Bryant shook Jules’s hand just as warmly. “Sit, please sit.”
    So much for his not remembering. “Fully healed, sir,” Jules reported as he and Max both sat down. “I’m back to speed.”
    “Nice tie,” the President said, squinting at it more closely. “I’ve got a granddaughter who adores that show. I’ve watched it with her—funny stuff.”
    “Yes, it is.” Was he really discussing SpongeBob with the leader of the free world?
    “I’ve gotta get me a tie like that. Where’d you get yours?” the President asked.
    Jules glanced at Max, who was busy opening the sealed file—no help was coming from him.
    So okay. His President had asked him a question, he was just going to have to answer it truthfully. “I was on vacation in Provincetown,” Jules admitted. “In Massachusetts. Cape Cod. There’re stores there with…campy stuff.” To hell with that. If he was really out, then he was out in the Oval Office, too. He explained. “Gay-friendly stores.”
    Max glanced up at that, but Jules didn’t look at him. It was entirely possible that, after this meeting ended, Max would inform him that he’d just exploded his career.
    If so, so be it. Jules was who he was.
    But Bryant was smiling. “Oh yeah,” he said as he reached down and opened one of the drawers of a nearby cabinet. “I’m familiar with Provincetown. My favorite nephew and his partner—spouse now—have a summer place there.” He took out a mahogany tray that turned out to be filled with a colorful array of new ties, and held it out to Max, as if he were offering hors d’oeuvres. “I’ve got a pack of granddaughters. One’s about the same age as your Emma. Her aim, too, is unerring.”
    “Thank you, sir.” Max took a tie and put it on, slipping his soiled one into his pocket.
    Jules took one, too, replacing it with his. “I’m happy to donate SpongeBob to a good cause,” he told the President.
    “Unnecessary, but sincerely appreciated,” Bryant told him with a smile, but then morphed into the man Jules had seen on TV—gravely serious. “You’ve got bad news for me, I gather.”
    “I’m afraid so,” Max said, handing him the contents of that file.
    “Let’s have Mr. Cassidy give the report,” Bryant said, “since you’re obviously grooming him as your replacement.”
    What the…? Was Max really?
    Jesus yikes.
    Again, no eye contact from his boss, the bastard, who told the President, “Cassidy’ll also be in charge of this investigation.”
    Another piece of breaking news that left Jules speechless.
    Of course, now Max did look at him, but only because he was passing him the proverbial microphone.
    Not that this wasn’t completely typical behavior from his legendary boss—surprise the leaping bejeezus out of him, then make him give an impromptu presentation—his first in front of the U.S. President and his staff.
    Jules cleared his throat. “The photo you’ve been given, sir, is that of Yazid al-Rashid al-Hasan. Our code name for him is Tango Two, due to the amount of time he’d spent as Osama bin Laden’s right-hand man back in the late 1990s. We believe he’s heading to the United States, with the intention of carrying out a major attack on an East Coast city, probably New York, possibly Atlanta.
    “We believe his point of entry will be the Gulf coast of Florida via South America. We’ve been watching a mob boss named Gordon Burns, who’s based in Sarasota—we believe his organization may have been responsible for smuggling another al Qaeda operative into the country, although we’ve uncovered no hard evidence to date. We’re working to find out the logistics—where, when, how.
    “We have an agent