Bold action had to be taken. The action would be condemned, but it would also discourage others from pursuing Link. The police would look elsewhere for the Hypo-Slayer, as the media had taken to calling it.
Before long, the investigation would all but disappear. The killer would not be found. The public would lose interest.
Besides, there would be other news to replace it.
TWENTY-SEVEN
Washington, B.C. Jliesday, 12:10 p.m.
Mike Rodgers felt like Philip Nolan in The Man Without a Country.
Whereas Edward Everett Hale's protagonist had been exiled for his part in the treasonous activities of Aaron Burr, Rodgers felt as if he had been banished by timing and circumstance. He was still employed by Op-Center, which had betrayed its charter. The general believed that Paul Hood was pursuing what the military described as a directed service agenda. That was a program masquerading as patriotism that was designed to help the branch itself, like starting a war to test new weapons or burn through old ordnance. Op-Center had a marginally legitimate reason to look into Wilson's death. Now they were pursuing it beyond that original mandate for self-serving reasons. Ironically, part of Rodgers understood those reasons. It had obviously hurt Hood to ask for Rodgers's resignation. He wanted to make sure there were no more firings. But part of Mike Rodgers also wanted to go to Op-Center and call Hood out, challenge him for the sludge he was flinging on Rodgers's new employer.
Instead, Rodgers sat down with Kat Lockley and Kendra Peterson and reviewed the plans for the convention as well as Senator Orr's platform. Now and then, they solicited Rodgers's opinion. The women were responsive to the handful of suggestions he made. The staff had spent so long knocking ideas around just between themselves, they were happy to have a new set of eyes. The experience was a good one for Rodgers. It was nice to be heard.
When the meeting was over, Rodgers asked Kat Lock-ley to lunch. She said she could get away in about a half hour. Rodgers said he would wait for her on Delaware Avenue. That lifted his spirits even more. At Op-Center, he had to remain detached from the women because he was the number-two man. He did not want to be emotionally involved with someone he might have to overrule or send into combat. It was pleasant to get in there and push around ideas, especially among young women who had energy and fresh ideas. And, yes, killer smiles. Bob Herbert had once described a meeting with young women at some university mock think tank as 'PC.'
'Not politically correct,' Herbert said. 'Pleasantly coercive.'
This meeting was definitely PC.
On the way out, Rodgers bumped into Admiral Link. The future vice presidential candidate did not look happy.
'Is your friend Mr. McCaskey usually so bullheaded?' Link asked. 'I don't mean that meeting,' he added. 'McCaskey called back to tell me we were going to see some rising tide on this investigation.'
'What?' Rodgers said. 'That doesn't sound like Darrell at all.
Someone must be holding his feet to the flame.'
'Is Hood usually this reckless?' Link asked.
Rodgers shook his head firmly. 'This budget crisis must have really shaken him up. Do you want me to talk to him?'
'I don't think so '
'I don't mind,' Rodgers said. 'I was thinking about going over there anyway and kicking up dust.'
'No,' Link said. 'Hood is going to do what he wants. Let him. Why fight a battle we're going to win anyway?'
'Because I've got rockets in the launcher, and I've flipped open the safety cover,' Rodgers said.
Link smiled. 'Save them for the campaign, General. This is a sideshow. That's all it is.'
Rodgers reluctantly agreed. There were times when he simply wanted to engage the enemy, and this was one of those times. Link thanked him for his support and went to see Kendra. Rodgers walked out to Delaware Avenue, sat on a bench, and let the sunshine wash over him. It was amazing how different the same sun felt in different parts of the world. It was searing in the deserts of the Southwest where he had once trained a mechanized brigade, impotent in the Himalayas, slimy in the humid Diamond Mountains of North Korea. It was full of warmth and vitamins in the South American plains, an outright enemy in the Middle East, and comforting here, like freshly
