Washington, D. C., Saturday…

Since the sentries had phoned ahead, the disheveled group in the van were quickly led into elevators and taken to one of the ops centers. Both marines and FBI were there, in the person of Asako O'Brien, two other FBI agents, and a representative of the marine base commander. Asako and the other two agents were easier to convince than the base commander's rep, who couldn't quite swallow the whole story without checking. So it was Jake Hanlon, FBI director back in DC, who moved first, spurred into action by a trinity of calls from Denise Rivera, Sam Fletcher, and the FBI at Quantico.

Pierce Hamilton was on the golf course when his cell phone rang. He pulled it out, took a look at the caller ID, and nodded to the two Secret Service men accompanying his party.

"Give me some space here, guys," he said. Since his golf partners were two Supreme Court judges and a senator, they understood that national security business came first. They moved on to the next hole, leaving Pierce and his bodyguards alone.

"Go ahead, Jake. What's the deal?"

Jake Hanlon was not a man of many words. He described the situation briefly and clearly. Pierce's orders were just as clear and to the point.

"First, dispatch some of your people to Bethesda. If what this Boston cop and scientist say is true, these people need protection."