Drone Strike: A Dreamland Thriller (Dale Brown's Dreamland) Read Online Free PDF

coming year, something Todd was adamantly opposed to.
    She listened for a while longer, then politely excused herself, deciding she would check in on her husband and work an early exit. She spotted the Israeli ambassador across the room, and turned to her right: she had artfully avoided conversing with him all evening, and aimed to keep that record intact.
    She bumped into a short, thin man in his mid-thirties, who managed—barely—to avoid dropping his drink or, worse, spilling it on her dress.
    “I’m sorry, Madam President,” he said, clearly embarrassed.
    “Oh no, dear, I’m sorry. I turned without looking.” She smiled, trying to remember who he was.
    “Mark Tacitus,” said the man. He held out his hand. “I, uh, I’m the son-in-law of—”
    “Oh yes, yes, I’m sorry I didn’t recognize you.” His father-in-law was Simon Rockwell, a member of the Metropolitan Museum Board of Trustees in New York and one of her biggest contributors in the Northeast. “So—the last time we met, you were working on a book.”
    “Finished. Yes.” He smiled awkwardly. “The book on Nimitz.”
    “Of course.”
    “He was an interesting man,” said Tacitus noncommittally. He seemed to think she was only making polite conversation.
    “Do you still think the Nautilus was his most difficult decision?” Todd asked.
    “Well . . .” The author flushed, probably trying to remember their last conversation. The submarine Nautilus became the world’s first nuclear powered vessel of any kind, and the decision to build it was extremely controversial. “I think in a way it was his hardest. There were a lot of decisions we could single out. Some good, some bad.”
    “A lot good.” Todd caught sight of her husband. “Though not always obvious at the time, even to him. We’ll have to talk more in depth sometime,” she told Tacitus. “I was interested in what you had to say about his wife.”
    “You read the book?”
    The President laughed. She had read the book, lingering over the war chapters, where she admired how Nimitz had persevered, taking calculated risks but always sticking to his vision.
    Set a course, and move ahead. Good advice for anyone, even a President.
    Delay Iran by whatever means. Short-term risks that could pay big dividends were better than no risk that offered none. That was what Nimitz had to say to her.
    “We will talk,” she said, patting Tacitus on the shoulder and starting across the room. “Thank you. One of my people will get in touch.”
    Her husband was waiting. “Calling it a night?” he asked when she arrived.
    “I’m thinking of it. There was a curator I wanted to see.”
    “Sandy Goldman, in the blue dress over there. George Washington expert.”
    “You read me like a book.”
    “Thank you, Madam President.”
    “I think I’ll have someone sneak her up to the library for a little chat. What do you think?”
    “You’re the President.”
    “Could you whisper in her ear? I have to talk to Blitz for a minute.”
    Her husband slipped away. Blitz was only a few feet away, talking with two men from the Dallas Museum of Art. As President Todd walked in his direction, Blitz excused himself. They stepped aside.
    “I’m sorry to interrupt you,” she told him.
    “Not a problem.”
    “It should move ahead.”
    “What made you decide? The Israelis?”
    “I haven’t talked to them about it, and don’t intend to.”
    “What then?”
    “Admiral Nimitz.”
    Todd cherished the confused look on Blitz’s face all the way upstairs.

4
    Dreamland
    E VEN THOUGH THE E NGINEERS HAD REACHED A TENTATIVE conclusion about what happened within minutes of the B-1Q and UAVs touching down, the mission debriefing lasted well into the night. Two of the UAVs had been destroyed and a third damaged when they were unable to anticipate the Phantom’s last second landing abort. The others returned to the airstrip where their mother ship had landed, landing in perfect formation and taxiing behind it.