right thing. That was why Hood was in charge of Op-Center and Herbert was not. They could not go back to the CIOC and tell them they called off the mission or were concerned about Friday's role in it because of Herbert's intuition.
The phone beeped. It was Dorothy Williamson. Hood put the phone on speaker. He was busy typing something on his keyboard as he introduced himself and Herbert. Then he explained that they were involved in a joint operation with Ron Friday. Hood asked if she would mind sharing her impressions of the agent.
'He was very efficient, a good attorney and negotiator, and I was sorry to lose him,' she said.
'Did he interact much with the two Company men, the ones who were killed by the Harpooner's man?' Hood asked.
'Mr. Friday spent a great deal of time with Mr. Moore and Mr. Thomas,' Williamson replied.
'I see,' Hood said.
Herbert felt vindicated. Friday's interaction with the men should have shown up in his reports to the NSA. Now he knew the file had been sanitized.
'For the record, Mr. Hood, I do want to point out one thing,' Williamson said.
'The Company agents were not killed by one assassin but by two.'
That caught Herbert by surprise.
'There were two assassins at the hospital,' the deputy ambassador went on.
'One of them was killed. The other one got away. The Baku police department is still looking for him.'
'I did not know that,' Hood said.
'Thank you.'
Herbert's gut growled a little. The two CIA operatives were killed getting medical attention for a visiting agent who had been poisoned by the Harpooner. Fenwick's plan to start a Caspian war had depended upon killing all three men at the hospital. Fenwick certainly would have asked Friday for information regarding the movements of the CIA operatives.
And just as certainly that information would have been deleted from Friday's files. But after the two men were killed, Friday had to have suspected that something was wrong. He should have confided in Williamson or made sure he had a better alibi.
Unless he was a willing part of Fenwick's team.
'Bob Herbert here. Madam Deputy Ambassador,' Herbert said.
'Can you tell me where Mr. Friday was on the night of the murders?'
'In his apartment, as I recall,' Williamson informed him.
'Did Mr. Friday have anything to say after he learned about the killings?' Herbert pressed.
'Not really,' she said.
'Was he concerned for his own safety?' Herbert asked.
'He never expressed any worries,' she said.
'But there was not a lot of time for chat. We were working hard to put down a war.'
Hood shot Herbert a glance. The intelligence chief sat back, exasperated, as Hood complimented her on her efforts during the crisis.
That was Paul Hood. Whatever the situation he always had the presence of mind to play the diplomat. Not Herbert. If the Harpooner was killing U. S. agents, he wanted to know why it did not occur to Ms. Williamson to find out why Friday had not been hit.
The deputy ambassador had a few more things to say about Friday, especially praising his quick learning curve on the issues they had to deal with between Azerbaijan and its neighbors. Williamson asked Hood to give him her regards if he spoke with Friday.
Hood said he would and clicked off. He regarded Herbert.
'You wouldn't have gotten anywhere hammering her,' Hood said.
'How do you know?' Herbert asked.
'While we were talking I looked at her c. v.,' Hood said.
'Williamson's a political appointee. She ran the spin doctoring for Senator Thompson during his last Senate campaign.'
'Dirty tricks?' Herbert asked disgustedly.
'That's the whole of her intelligence experience?' 'Pretty much,' Hood said.
'With two CIA agents on staff in Baku I guess the president thought he was safe scoring points with the majority whip. More to the point, I'm guessing this whole thing sounds too clean to you.'
'Like brass buttons on inspection day.' 'I don't know. Bob,' Hood said.
'It's not just Williamson.
Hank Lewis trusted Friday enough to send him to India.' 'That doesn't mean anything,' Herbert said.
'I spoke with Hank Lewis earlier this morning. He's making decisions like a monkey in a space capsule.'
Hood made a face.
