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1086 Words
“We didn’t learn very much that was new,” she said. “No, you actually helped shine a whole new light on everything.” “Russians?” said Reuben. “Are the bastards really behind this?” “Looks to be the case.” “Why?” asked Mirabel. “I thought they were our ally now.” “Allies come and allies go. And it might not be the Russian government, per se.” “I called Harry and Caleb. They’re coming over later to see Reuben. Well, Harry said he would if you thought it was okay to take some time off his assignment.” “I think that would be fine. Please let him know.” As he turned to leave, Mirabel put an arm around his shoulders and said in a low voice, “Please take care of yourself. We almost lost Reuben.” Her eyes glimmered and Herbert touched her cheek. “I will, Mirabel.” Anthony was waiting for Herbert in the hospital lobby. They walked to her car and drove off. “Well, the meeting with the FBI really gobsmacked me,” she said. “The fact that we’re still on the case, or something else?” “The fact that your director seemed very much out of the loop.” “And I’m wondering why.” “What do you think happened to Garchik and that evidence?” “I don’t know, but I think where we’ll find one we’ll find the other.” “You think he’s a bad cop?” Herbert didn’t answer right away. “No, I don’t. I think he may have been in the wrong place at the wrong time.” “Lot of that going around. Look at Alfredo Padilla. And Agent Birdman.” “Right.” “So the question becomes, if someone is keeping things from the director of the FBI, who could have that kind of clout?” Herbert looked at her. “I need to try and see someone today.” “Who?” “Just someone.” “Is it important?” “Yes.” “Well, he lives right across from Lafayette Park.” IT WAS NOT AN EASY THING to get in to see the president of the United States without an appointment. In fact, it was virtually impossible. The man’s work schedule would put anyone else’s in the world to shame. On Air Force One he could cover multiple countries in one day and be home in time for a state dinner and then some late-night phone lobbying with his cohorts on Capitol Hill. Thus Herbert was very surprised to be sitting in a helicopter as it was flown across the Maryland countryside. It touched down in the craw of the Catoctin Mountains where a three-car motorcade took him the rest of the way to Camp David, perhaps the best-protected parcel of land in the world. This did make sense, thought Herbert. Meeting at Camp David was far more private than walking the halls of the White House. As the motorcade entered the confines of Camp David and a ramrod-straight Marine in dress blues met him, Herbert wondered exactly how he was going to broach the subject with the man. And what his reaction would be. Well, I’m just about to find the answers to those questions. He stood in a small wood-paneled room alone. But not for long. The door opened and there was the president dressed casually in corduroy pants and a checked shirt with loafers on his feet. He held a pair of glasses in one hand and a BlackBerry phone held up to his ear in the other. He glanced at Herbert standing there and motioned for him to take a seat. The president finished his call in low murmurs, slid the phone in his shirt pocket, poured a cup of coffee from a pot set up on a side table and poured one for Herbert too. He handed him the cup and sat down, sliding his glasses over his face. “Lost a contact,” said Brennan. “Backup glasses until they get my other pair. Can’t face the public in glasses. They don’t like that.” Herbert thought about that and it did occur to him that he couldn’t remember seeing a president with glasses on during a public event. “I appreciate you taking the time to see me on such short notice, sir.” The president leaned back and scrutinized him. “I’m sure you know why I did. The sense of urgency is compelling. We seem to be spiraling right out of control on this. Every day there’s a new crisis. Made any sense of it yet?” “Some. But there are a lot of new questions.” “Give me a quick debrief.” Herbert did so, leaving out nothing, including the attack at his cottage and about Fuat Turkekul. “I know I’m not telling you anything you aren’t aware of,” he said. The president nodded. “The PM and I are very close.” “James McElroy also plays by the rules.” “An impressive man. Always seems to know more than anyone else, myself and his prime minister included, I think.” “The mark of a good intelligence officer,” commented Herbert. “But keeping me in the dark on that did cost us time.” “I’m aware of that, but it couldn’t be helped,” he said brusquely. “I understand.” “Some good has come out of this,” said Brennan. “Sir?” asked Herbert with a questioning look. In response the president picked up a remote and hit a button. A part of the wall slid open, revealing a flat-screen TV. The president touched another button and the TV came on. “This was recorded earlier,” he explained. Herbert watched as the image of Carmen Escalante appeared. She looked even smaller and her leg braces even bigger on the screen than in person. She was being interviewed about the death of her beloved uncle and her own personal plight with her medical issues. “Word has really spread about this, causing two things to happen. We’re holding a joint memorial service for Mr. Padilla and Agent Birdman. The president of Mexico is flying up for the ceremony. And, second, private donors have stepped in to pay for Ms. Escalante’s operations for her legs.” “That’s very nice.”
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