Too bad.
Rodgers clicked off the phone. He decided he was not angry with Bob Herbert. Yes, the intelligence chief was just doing his job. More importantly, though, Rodgers believed that Herbert had involved himself for the reasons Hood had stated: to put this crippled bird in the hangar. Unlike Paul Hood, Herbert was looking out for his friend's interests.
Rodgers tucked the cell phone back in his pocket. Because he was not technically on duty, he was not in uniform. It seemed strange wearing a blazer instead of his uniform. It was also liberating. Mike Rodgers and General Mike Rodgers had been the same person for so long, he was looking forward to discovering what it was like to be a civilian.
Starting with having the freedom to talk back to a commander who had betrayed him.
Rodgers stopped looking for spies. He enjoyed the respite, and when Kat finally showed up, breathless but smiling, he knew he would enjoy his lunch as well. They set out toward a cafe with open-air seating, put their names on the waiting list, and talked about the morning.
Rodgers let her out-gas as they rather unromantically called it in the military. But he made Kat promise that once they were seated, she would not discuss the campaign, the investigation, or anything else pertaining to Senator Orr. He wanted to hear about her life.
She agreed to tell him.
It was good to be a civilian but, more important, it felt good to be a man. Hood had done him a favor. He tried not to let his mind go to a place where it desperately longed to be, to a future where Senator Orr was President Orr and Mike Rodgers was the secretary of defense. A future where a spoils system appointee took over the CIOC from Senator Debenport. A future where the first act of the new chairman was to ask for Paul Hood's resignation.
Rodgers did not let himself go there because revenge was not a good primary reason to do anything. It caused rash, often counterproductive behavior, like the prizefighter who looked to put away a hated rival in round one and tired himself out.
Rodgers would take a more measured approach.
Revenge would not be an atom bomb. It would be fallout.
TWENTY-EIGHT
I lorn don, Virginia Tuesday, 12:11 p.m.
For more than a century, the Washington & Old Dominion Railroad was a lifeline to the nation's capital. Nicknamed the Virginia Creeper in honor of its speed or lack thereof the train moved northwest through Virginia to points beyond. The track still passes through the center of town, where an underground garage stands not far from the W&OD museum. Two hundred feet long by seventy-five feet wide, and fifteen feet deep, the garage used to have track over it. Now there is only high, wind-rustled grasses. Once covered by removable wooden slats, workers would use the garage to get underneath the cars and conduct repairs.
Today, the garage has a much different use. It is the workplace of Art Van Wezel. It is where the CIA employee runs three key facets of the black ops infrastructure, what he calls 'ways, means, and most definite ends.'
Commandeered by the OSS during World War II and covered with concrete, the Garage that became its formal code name was originally used as a secret listening post. Fifth columnists working in and around Washington, D.C.' would often go into the countryside to meet fellow operatives or send radio messages to waiting submarines. Because of the wires already in place for the railroad, the OSS did not have to erect additional antennae. The rails also gave them train and hand car access to the entire region, allowing for furtive counterespionage activities. After the war, the Garage was transformed into a storage facility for equipment used by the successor to the OSS, the newly formed Central Intelligence Agency. During the Cold War, the CIA leadership used the garage for decata- logued weapons and chemicals.
These were produced for the sole purpose of arming field agents. They were stored in the Garage because, officially, such armaments did not exist. In the 1980s, the CIA converted the Garage to a warehouse for covert ops equipment. It was staffed by two former navy men: Jason Harper and Art Van Wezel. When Harper retired, only Van Wezel remained.
Van Wezel was still there.
When Kenneth Link took charge of covert ops at the CIA, he spent a lot of time in the Garage. Part of that was spent organizing it into a world-class repository for new and specialized ordnance. Part of the time was also used to shift deactivated materiel from the Defense Supply Center in Richmond, Virginia, to the Garage. His rank gave him access to everything the navy was no longer using. Many of these weapons were prototypes that were either abandoned or actually went into production. Van Wezel made sure the weapons were kept in working condition. He also made sure that most of them were reported to have been destroyed. Link countersigned those reports. The admiral held on to them.
