Zoo by James Patterson & Michael Ledwidge

Author:James Patterson & Michael Ledwidge [Patterson, James]
Language: eng
Format: epub, mobi
Tags: Fiction, General
Publisher: Random House
Published: 2012-09-04T22:15:03+00:00

Chapter 53

AND WE’D BEEN worried about no car seat for Eli in the car.

Strapped into the wailing, shuddering army helicopter a few minutes later, we pushed off the parking-garage roof and swung low as a sweet chariot over downtown Washington. We picked up altitude, and before long it was no longer concrete and highways but rolling jewel-green Virginia swampland that rushed by beneath us. I looked over at Eli, who was strapped in on Chloe’s lap, clutching his Batman, eyes big as Frisbees, in awe.

We banked hard and thundered due north for twenty minutes or so and then began descending again. An office park of stark glass buildings emerged from the forest. From the vantage point of a few thousand feet above, they looked like blocks of ice melting on the grass. We dove toward the central building. I thought we were going to land on the red H of the helipad on the ground next to it, but instead the pilot guided us onto the flat roof of the building.

“Thanks, Colonel,” yelled a silver-haired man in a navy Windbreaker who was waiting for us on the roof as we disembarked. “I’ll take it from here.”

The colonel flicked a salute at him, and the chopper picked up behind us and rose skyward.

I noticed the letters NSA on the electronic badge clipped to the pocket of his crisp white dress shirt as he led me, Chloe, Eli, and Nimo across the sun-baked asphalt of the roof toward a door.

The National Security Agency: the department that does worldwide electronic surveillance for all the intelligence services—so cloak-and-dagger that some people call it No Such Agency.

“Section Chief Mike Leahy,” the man said, shaking my hand as we entered the building. “Thanks for agreeing to come.”

He led us out of a stairwell into a long, blinding-white corridor.

“Sorry for all the drama, but when”—he glanced at Eli—“the you-know-what hits the fan, things tend to work pretty fast around here.”

We turned a corner and entered a semicircular room that had rows of seats and a podium in front. It reminded me of a college lecture hall. Behind the podium was a shiny, sleek television screen the size of a billboard.

A side door opened and a middle-aged black man entered the room. Leahy was in business attire, but this guy wore a black polo shirt with black jeans and Chuck Taylors that squeaked like balloon animals on the shiny white floor. The gold Rolex at his wrist added a splash of bling to the ensemble.

“Are you the president?” Eli said, gazing up at him.

“No, I’m not,” the man said.

“Actually,” Leahy said, smiling stiffly, “the president has been detained. This is Conrad Marlowe from the Defense Department.”

“Don’t jerk their chains, Mike,” Marlowe said. His teeth could have been mah-jongg tiles, and his voice was like a velvet cello. “Mr. Oz here is smarter than that. He saw this coming back in 2012. Hell, back in 2011, 2010. The president’s not coming. They say that to get you on the bird.

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