HE DOES LOOK like me, doesn’t he?” The president watched the flat screen on the Oval Office wall.

     “It’s as good as Hollywood,” Tidwell said, smiling, “Our guys are in position.”

     “And we won’t get in trouble for blowing him away?”

     “You gotta love 9/11,” Tidwell said “Congress authorized you to kill U.S. citizens if we have reason to believe they are terrorists.”

     “That’s right!” the president said, grinning. “I forgot about that! This will set an excellent presidential precedent.” He smiled, admiring his own alliteration.

     "What’s this?” Tidwell listened intently to his earpiece.

     “They’ve stopped a little old lady trying to cross a police barricade. Says she’s got something for you, Mr. President.  “It’s an iPhone. We’re checking it for explosives.

     “It’s clean. Apparently our terrorist is live on FaceTime.

     “What do you want to do?”

     “You’re sure it’s safe?”

     “From blowing up? Yeah. From seven- or eight-cycle sound? Who knows,” Tidwell equivocated.

     “If we had it, could we trace where he is right now?” the president asked.

     Tidwell thought about that. “If we connected our own cable to its base.”

     “Can’t we set up a dead man’s switch or something that would smash the phone if the person holding it lost consciousness?”

     "Brilliant, Mr. President!” Tidwell beamed.

     “That’s why I get to sit up front on Air Force One,” the president quipped.

     “Set it up and have them bring the phone here to me. I want a fix on this guy as soon as possible.

     “Tell the snipers to stand down.”