Epilogue

(7)

While the records recovered from the Dragon Factory were being mined a clear link was made between the Jakobys and the Sunderland family. Harold Sunderland was arrested by police as he stepped off a plane in São Paolo. In light of his connection with the attempted mass genocide, there was no hesitation about extradition.

When FBI agents showed up at the office of J. P. Sunderland to serve a federal warrant, the senator suffered a massive coronary. He was pronounced dead on arrival at Georgetown University Hospital. A clear link was discovered between Sunderland and former deputy information analyst Stephen Preston, the man who had given the false information on which the Vice President acted. However, an exhaustive search of Sunderland’s paper and computer records could establish nothing that implicated the Vice President in any wrongdoing.

Vice President Bill Collins dodged the bullet, and nothing about his attempted dismantling of the DMS ever made it to the press. However, CNN was the first to observe that Collins and the President seemed cooler to each other than during their campaign, and Jon Stewart made some jokes about Collins being even more “off the public radar” than Dick Cheney had been.

The Vice President spent a lot of time out of Washington.

On one of his flights to his home state, the Vice President was alone aboard a small military jet. He put in his earbuds, turned on his iPod, and settled back to enjoy the trip. Twenty minutes into the flight someone reached over and turned off the iPod.

The VP woke up and started to demand what the hell was going on. But he never finished the sentence. A man sat across from him. Early sixties, tall and blocky, wearing tinted sunglasses. A slim briefcase lay on the seat next to him.

“What the hell are you doing here?”

Mr. Church opened his briefcase and removed a small pack of Nilla wafers. He selected a cookie and set the pack aside. He did not offer one to the Vice President.

“You’d better have a good goddamned explanation for-”

Church said, “Sunderland.”

“Bullshit,” Collins sneered. “I stand by my-”

“Shhhh,” Mr. Church said, placing a finger to his lips. “It would be better for you to listen.”

The curtain to the forward cabin opened and Linden Brierly leaned against the door frame. The newly appointed Director of the Secret service smiled thinly, but his eyes were as cold as ice.

“Mr. Vice President,” said Church, “we are going to have a long talk about your future in politics and your general health.”