Page 39 of No Vow Broken

“No, there were no indications that an attack was imminent.”

“Why did you fight back and not let the Secret Service handle it?”

“By the time the attack was fully underway, Agent Flax was gravely wounded, the agent outside was presumed dead or incapacitated, and a third agent was protecting the first lady. That left only one agent, Agent Troy, who gladly accepted our offer of assistance, especially since we had a decorated SEAL sniper and an Italian Special Forces marksman among us. Agent Flax, who was in an upstairs bedroom, was also on board with our participation, and although he was seriously wounded, he provided his guns to help us hold off the attackers.”

“How can you be sure the people who attacked you were professionals?”

“Experience. The way they organized, moved, and attacked was exactly by the book. They knew what they were doing and moved efficiently and confidently—until they met unexpected resistance. In fact, they stuck with what I assume was their plan for much longer than they should have, indicating they were being guided by someone else or they’d clearly been instructed not to deviate from the plan.”

Officer Palmer considered this. “So, you think they didn’t know about the capabilities of you or your guests.”

“Didn’t know or didn’t care. I’m leaning toward didn’t know. The US’s most decorated sniper was in attendance, along with my brother Gio, who’s an accomplished marksman for the Italian Special Forces. Also, among our guests are a former Vatican Swiss Guard and a Baltimore police officer. So, yes, unless the attackers thought we’d be completely hampered by a lack of weapons and/or the element of surprise, they completely misjudged our professional skills. Either way, it seems like a significant lack of intelligence led to their downfall.”

Officer Palmer tapped his fingers on the table. “A lack of intelligence.”

“Yes. Or a lack of intelligence analysis. Same outcome.”

He studied me for a moment. “You work at the NSA.”

“I do.”

“But you’re familiar with military or paramilitary actions.”

“I am.” I didn’t offer any more information, and I could see he was conflicted about asking further questions. He wasn’t cleared to know any more about me, and he’d have to go higher if he wanted to know. To my relief, he dropped it.

“You never heard any of the attackers speak? No foreign language or accent?”

“Nothing. I don’t know if the others heard anything.”

The questions went on and on. Where did we get the guns? Did we know who killed the agent in the front yard? Did we know who killed the two police officers at the end of the driveway? Which assailants did I personally shoot?

He wanted to know every detail of who had handled each of the guns. Since we’d swapped guns a lot during the attack, I took time to carefully review things before I spoke to make sure I got it right. He seemed impressed, or perhaps incredulous, when I explained how I took down an armed man wearing body armor and night-vision goggles in the dark. But he was clearly disappointed I had nothing to offer in terms of identifying any of the men, their targets, or their motives.

At some point after the first hour passed, we were joined by Agent Santiago who been the lead counterassault agent on-site at the Bluff House. He remained quiet and observant. This was not his show…yet.

As I continued to offer my detailed version of the events to Officer Palmer, I began to get a feeling the men couldn’t believe we’d survived such an attack. Since we’d had so few injured, I think they may have even considered it suspicious. Nevertheless, I stuck to the facts while I finished up my account and calmly responded to Officer Palmer’s constant—and aggressive—questioning.

When I was done, I followed Officer Palmer and Agent Santiago down the hallway. As we passed a group of officers talking, I overheard one of the police officers tell a Secret Service agent that they’d found the bodies of five hostiles. The use of the wordbodiesimplied none had survived, but I didn’t know if any had escaped.

An assault team with only five people seemed light, but they had been highly trained and efficient. Despite our best efforts, one had even made it close to where the first lady had been hidden, and that was after facing four Secret Service agents, two highly trained military marksmen, and the rest of us with significant weapons and assault training. Whoever had staged this attack had chosen a deadly and effective team. But their intelligence regarding the guests was weak, and, apparently, that’s what had saved us.

Officer Palmer (and his scowl) departed, so I asked Agent Santiago if Lexi was still being debriefed.

“She is.”

“She’s your fiancée, right?”

“That’s right.”

“And you’re a senior intelligence executive at the NSA.”

“That’s also right.”

“Well, sir, that’s an incredible show you guys put on tonight. Well done. Just so you know, I’ve also been tasked with updating you on the plans for the rest of the evening and tomorrow morning. Since the police are finished questioning everyone except for Ms. Carmichael, we’re going to defer our debriefs until tomorrow morning. Everyone else has been questioned and given a room here in the hotel. We hope to get clearer information when everyone has had a chance to rest a bit and reflect on the night’s events. We’ll work with the police to provide continued security.”

“I appreciate that.”

“One more thing. The first lady and the president have requested that, if you’re up to it, they’d like to receive both of you at the White House this evening.”

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