“Patrick,” Ian continued in that same soft, whispering voice. “My government wants you to know about this, and we would like to keep you supplied with additional information as we receive it. All of this has to be unofficial and deniable, of course, which is why I am sitting here with you like this. By the way, don’t worry too much about your comrades in Cuba, or anywhere else, for that matter. They’re safe. Cuba isn’t the target. Germany will attack where you have virtually no effective defenses to hinder them.”

In shock, Patrick could only whisper as well. “Where?”

“ New York City, Patrick. New York City.” Ian put a hand on the other man’s shoulder. “Now go and meet your president.”

Ian Gordon rose and quickly strode away, almost immediately losing himself in the crowd. Patrick also stood and wondered if the startling information he’d just been given was written on his face and readable to all around him. As he walked across the street toward the side entrance of the White House, his shock waned. Was Gordon telling the truth? If not, why on earth would he lie? What should he do with the information? Obviously, he was supposed to tell McKinley, but would he be believed? He couldn’t just walk up to McKinley and say that a man he hadn’t seen for some years just met him on a bench in front of the White House and informed him that the city of New York was going to be attacked tonight by Germany.

And again, why him? Was this whole thing a dream? If so, he thought wryly, he would like to wake up as soon as possible.

Inside the slightly cooler White House, Patrick handed his pass to a black porter who directed another black servant to take him to the cabinet room on the second level. All of this took place under the watchful eyes of the Secret Service detachment that protected the president during the day. Uniformed city police watched him at night.