through the mahogany doors.
The director stood and extended his hand, a stocky man whose considerable girth was well concealed by the tailored Ralph Lauren Purple Label suits that he favored. “Bob Andrews, pleased to meet you.”
Kealey returned the handshake. “Same here, sir.”
For his part, Andrews dubiously eyed the man who stood before him. He’d heard many things about Kealey, and the man’s appearance seemed to coincide with his reputation. He wore heavy Columbia hiking boots, dark jeans, and a threadbare crewneck sweater of marled gray cotton. His face was deeply tanned from the African sun, even more so than usual, and the jet-black hair was a little wild. Taking all of this in for the first time, the director had to remind himself again of the man’s achievements.
Andrews gestured to one of the empty chairs. “Take a seat, Ryan. Congratulations on your results in Africa.”
“Thank you, sir.”
“I appreciate your coming in to see me today,” the director said, as though Kealey had had a choice in the matter. He gestured to the cups resting on the table in front of him. “Coffee?”
Kealey nodded his thanks and moved to pour coffee and dump cream into one of the cups. Meanwhile, the director had lifted what Ryan thought to be his personnel file and was skimming through the contents. “Let’s see… eight years with the army, retired as a major. DFC, three Bronze Stars, two Purple Hearts. Impressive. Action in Kosovo and the Gulf. Two years in the 1st SFOD…” Andrews looked up from the file with a questioning look. “Delta?”
Ryan nodded as he sipped at his coffee. Andrews lifted an eyebrow and turned his attention back to the file. “Then you were on the army’s Security Roster, is that right?”
“Yes, sir. I signed a waiver when Director Harper recruited me. Otherwise, my 201 would probably still be buried somewhere at Bragg.” He knew that the DCI would understand what he meant. Although the army keeps the vast majority of its personnel files at Human Resources Command in St. Louis, the 1st SFOD-D is given special dispensation to store records pertaining to its operators in a highly secure facility at Fort Bragg.
Andrews closed the file and tossed it onto his desk. “And an Intelligence Star, to round it all out. These pages show you’ve racked up quite a few achievements, Kealey,” he said, drumming his fingers on the closed file. “Unfortunately, this means that I have to take your opinion seriously.”
Ryan looked over to Harper, whose face remained expressionless.
“You brought down a lot of heat for that stunt you pulled with Elgin, you know. That still hasn’t blown over, but I’m willing to put it aside for now,” the director continued. “You think Vanderveen’s going after the president. Tell me why.”
Kealey shifted uncomfortably in his seat, then went on to relay his brief conversation with Stephen Gray, and the man’s final parting words.
“I admit that it sounds worrisome, but is that all you’ve come up with?” Andrews asked, the skepticism heavy in his voice.
“Sir, we know for a fact that Vanderveen is tied in with the new Iranian regime. He’s been linked to Al-Qaeda as well. I mean, we have tape of him meeting with some of the highest ranking people in the organization. It doesn’t get any more ironclad than that. Now, consider these facts: Senator Levy, Iran’s biggest opponent on the Hill, is assassinated in broad daylight after assuring the Washington press corps that the weapons program in Tehran will be shut down. Then we have Michael Shakib, a known Iranian affiliate whose cell phone records show that he placed a call to a cloned phone less than three minutes before the rocket attack. After the Justice Department tracks him down, he blows himself up rather than risk being taken alive. Why?”
Andrews glanced at Harper, a perplexed expression moving over his face. “Because that’s what they do, Kealey. It’s part of the conflict for them. Killing as many people as possible, spreading fear, and creating terror are their primary goals-”
Ryan held up a hand to stop him. “Maybe so, sir. But think about this: what if Shakib did it, at least in part, because he couldn’t risk breaking under interrogation?”
Harper shot an inquiring look at Kealey, but Andrews didn’t notice. “You’re saying he passed on information we don’t know about? Something related to the president?”
Ryan shrugged. “I’m just saying it’s a possibility we should look into. God knows it’s happened before. Remember that State Department laptop that went missing four years ago? It contained highly sensitive code-word material, and they never found it. The same thing happens over at Justice all the time.”
“Jesus,” Andrews breathed. He turned to the deputy director. “John, I think we ought to bring the Service in on this. We’ll advise them to run an internal audit, see what they can come up with.”
“I agree,” Harper said, but the expression on his face did not match up with his words.
“Unfortunately, I’m going to be tied down for the next few days with Homeland Security. I can’t get out of those meetings, John, but I’m going to set up an appointment with you and Brenneman. I want you there as well, Kealey,” Andrews added as an afterthought. “Maybe you’ll be able to convince him to cooperate with us on this.”
“It would be a big help, sir. I just hope that I’m wrong.”
“So do I,” was the director’s heartfelt response. “So do I.”
Less than five minutes later, Harper and Kealey were out of the DCI’s office and heading down toward the first floor. They walked slowly, speaking in short bursts when the hallway was quiet and clear of people.
“Jesus, Ryan,” Harper said with a smile on his face. “If you show up at the White House looking like you do now, I’m going to run out of the building and never look back.”
Ryan laughed and glanced down at his clothes. “I guess I’ll have to invest in a suit.”
“Is that how you dress when you lecture in Orono?”
“My students are even worse than I am, John. It’s all a matter of degree.”
They fell silent as a tall, trim woman with a flowing mane of auburn hair passed them hurriedly in the hall carrying a stack of files. She flashed Ryan a little smile as she brushed by.
Harper noticed and stuck his elbow in the younger man’s side. “If I got half the attention you do, my friend, I would die a happy man.”
“Not if Julie overheard you saying that. In fact, she would probably kill you herself.”
Harper smiled at the retort, but soon turned serious again. “That shit you just gave Andrews… You don’t really believe any of it, do you?”
“No. I guess it is possible that Shakib leaked something other than Senator Levy’s route, but it’s not likely. Andrews is just new enough to the job to believe something like that, though, and he never would have listened to me if all I’d had to offer were Gray’s final words. This way, he gets to throw some accusations at the Secret Service for failing to control their information, and we get what we want; some real help in tracking Vanderveen down. Unfortunately, now we have to sell it to the president.” Kealey smiled to himself. “That might be a little bit trickier.”
Harper shook his head incredulously. “I always said that you would be a star at headquarters, Ryan. You’re the most naturally deceptive person I know.”
The younger man grinned. “Don’t worry, John, I’m not out for your job. I’d never have the patience for all the ass-kissing you have to do.”
Harper laughed. “It’s that ass-kissing that keeps you out of jail when you pull shit like you did with Elgin.”
“Speaking of Elgin, I think the man knows more than he’s saying. I want to work with Adam North on this, the guy from DEA. He kept it together when it counted. My problem is going to be getting access. Do you think you can arrange that?”
Harper nodded slowly as they crossed the open lobby toward the security desk. “It’ll be tough, but I can get you in there. The worst part will be avoiding the press. I believe they’re holding him in Alexandria. Don’t leave any marks on him this time, Ryan. You shouldn’t have done that in the first place.”
“Don’t worry, I know how to handle it.”
As they pushed out into the cool Virginia air, Ryan looked down the long rows of stone steps to see a dark blue BMW waiting at the curb. Katie was standing next to it, shivering a little in a short black dress. She looked incredible, her light makeup artfully applied, diamond drops hanging from her ears. Her hair was up, and a few loose locks of golden brown fell down around her face. She smiled up at him, and Ryan’s heart skipped a beat.
