I reached out with my right hand.
I picked up the four-inch antique solid-titanium transponder key from the table.
I looked at Barnaby.
I looked through the glass at Ben, Clara, and Scout.
I looked at Uncle David:
“Uncle David,” Colonel Lauren Mercer whispered softly into the quiet vault:
“Warm up the White Hawk.”
“Tell the grand jury in Washington that the Mother has arrived from Oceanside.”
“The teacher is in her cage.”
“The blue folder is verified.”
“The daughter is defended.”
“The uniform held true.”
“The ledger has been opened.”
“Now…”
She clicked the titanium key against the transponder cylinder with a clean, sharp, definitive *SNAP*:
“…we’re flying to the Supreme Court to audit the Chief Justice.”
CHAPTER 7: THE STRATOSPHERE OVER THE POTOMAC
01:14 AM Eastern Standard Time.
The twin General Electric T700-GE-401C turboshaft engines of the Sikorsky VH-60N White Hawk—cleared directly through Flight Restricted Zone P-56 under the presidential tactical transponder beacon ARCHANGEL-ONE—did not enter the civilian holding pattern over the Shenandoah Valley or request approach vectoring from Andrews Air Force Base.
