rest compensated.
Dusk was approaching and Ali turned on the headlights. He reckoned that three more hours on the rutted road would take him to the pavement and on to the rendezvous where other jihadists would take delivery of “the package.” From there they would forward it to Karachi and thence to the realm of the Great Satan.
Derringer’s intercom buzzed, preceding Peggy Singer’s announcement. “Colonel Main to see you, Admiral.”
Derringer depressed the switch. “Thank you, Mrs. Singer. Please send him in.” Lieutenant Colonel David Main knew enough about SSI to recognize the formalities. Having been around the office and attended a couple of holiday parties, he knew that between them, Admiral Derringer and Mrs. Singer were “Mike” and “Peggy.”
Main strode into the office, again bemused at the minimalist decor for a retired flag officer. Derringer stood up, reached over the desk, and shook hands. “Thanks for coming, Dave. I appreciate it on short notice.”
Main sat down, finding that the straight-backed chair resisted any effort on his part to slouch. Insiders thought that Mike Derringer believed in keeping visitors uncomfortable and thereby preventing the urge to linger and chat. “What can I do for you, sir? Sandy mentioned bio weapons.”
“That’s right, Dave. Uh, incidentally, she sends her apologies. Something about one of the girls.”
“Ah, yessir.” Main’s tone and body language hinted at something beyond disappointment. Privately, Derringer felt that Ms. Carmichael had found a convenient reason to be absent when her former classmate arrived.
Derringer leaned forward. “Dave, everything today is off the record, but you’ve worked that way before. Now, confidentially, we’re trying to track down the source of a Marburg virus that apparently was found in an American national visiting Pakistan recently. He collapsed at Heathrow a couple of days ago and he’s now comatose but we’re told that he indicated he was injected with the virus and there may be others.”
Main’s eyes widened slightly. His Been There Done That badges and ribbons testified to Ranger School, 82nd Airborne, Grenada, Desert Storm, and Bosnia. He had walked the walk and done the deed, but anything related to Ebola was an instant attention-getter.
“Ah, yessir. I understand that you might want somebody with field experience as well as an immunology degree. I guess you needed to discuss it in person.”
“Correct. Now, Sandy’s already observed that State will not permit any active-duty military personnel on this job owing to the current sentiments in Pakistan. So, as you’ve done for us before, could you reach out and find somebody maybe in the Guard or Reserve who could fill the bill?”
“Well, I’ll try, Admiral. But you know, that’s a rare bird you’re hunting. And it might take some time. How soon do you need to know?”
Derringer sat back, his face passive. “Well, it’s now 1540.” Finally he grinned. “I realize you can’t get anything today, but we’re like 7-11. We never close.”
Main stood up. “I’ll let you know my initial finding by noon tomorrow.”
Derringer walked the Army officer to the door. “We really appreciate it, Dave. And, by the way, my offer stands. If you ever decide to put in your papers…”
Main chuckled. “Thanks, Admiral. It’s good to know I wouldn’t have to sell my soul as a beltway bandit. But I think I’m probably doing you more good as your liaison.”
Derringer patted Main’s shoulder. It was partly friendly, partly paternal. “That you are, son! Oh, by the way. Long as you’re here, would you mind talking to our chief pilot? I think you’ve met him: Terry Keegan. He may have, ah, one or two favors to ask. Frank will show you the way.”
“Certainly, sir. Glad to help.” It was a lie, smoothly accomplished. In truth, David Main wanted to see the start of his son’s basketball game for once.
En route to the planning room, Leopole briefed Main on Keegan. “We keep a few critical personnel on full- time or retainer. Terry’s one of the admiral’s favorites.”
“I think he’d just become your chief pilot when I met him before.”
“Roger that. Terry’s a jack-of-all-trades. He’s rated for fixed wing, helos, and seaplanes: probably has more ratings than anybody I know. He and Derringer go way back.”
“Really? Derringer’s not an aviator, is he?”
“Nope, strictly blackshoe. But he made his name in ASW, and Terry was his star SH-3 pilot. I don’t know the full story, but Terry got snagged in the Tailhook witch hunt. He asked the admiral for help, and Mike really tried, but Bush 41 wanted a head count to pacify the feminazis, who were never going to be pacified. Between you and me, I think Mike still feels some guilt about not being able to save a fine young officer’s career, but it worked out for the best. Terry was one of the first hires when SSI stood up, and the firm has paid for most of his upgrades.”
Approaching the technical library, Leopole and Main nearly collided with an attractive young woman. Leopole said, “Hi, Sallie. Ah, have you met Colonel Main?”
“No, I would remember.” Main was briefly taken aback by the frank statement. His brain defaulted to the male ego programming that was linked to his emotional hard drive.
She extended her hand. “Sallie Ann Kline,” she said with a Peach Street hint in her voice. At five-foot-eleven, her green eyes were level with the officer’s.
Main shook hands; Ms. Kline’s grip was firm and controlled. Her beige suit and dark hair gave her a professional appearance that Main found attractive. He noticed that she quickly scanned his ribbons and badges. Apparently she could decipher the esoterica displayed on his chest.
“I’ve been talking to Terry about more pilot applications,” Sallie explained. “He’s all yours, Frank.” She raised a manicured hand and waved bye-bye. “Nice to see you, Colonel.”
The army man turned to watch her walk away in long, purposeful strides. “Wow. I’m married, but man, how did I miss
Leopole chuckled. “Sallie has that effect on a lot of men. She’s here for a couple weeks as a consultant. She won’t accept a full-time position because she’s the admiral’s niece.”
“Is she really as confident as she seems?”
“Oh, yeah. It’s spooky, how quickly she sizes up people.”
Main emitted a low whistle. “What’s she do for the firm?”
“Sallie’s background is marketing and personnel. She analyzes applicants and predicts their likely job performance. She tells some clients that she uses a special computer program, but mainly it’s her gut feeling. She’s highly intuitive; I’d guess she bats about.800.”
The army man chuckled aloud. “Maybe I should introduce her to our recruiters.”
They found Keegan perusing SSI’s technical library where Leopole reintroduced the men and left. Rather than speaking his mind—
Terry Keegan nodded his crewcut head. “Yeah, I was in HS-2 when Tailhook blew up in ‘91. We were transitioning from SH-3Hs to SH-60s, and I really wanted to deploy with the Seahawk.”
Main leaned on a table strewn with aircraft and engine manuals. Women in combat was a subject upon which he held devout opinions. “I heard that the Tailhook thing caught a lot of you guys.”
“Hell, it caught everybody, including those who weren’t even there. Just the accusation was enough to ruin your career. It was, like, ‘ready, fire, aim.’ CNO and SecNav were both there, but they claimed they saw nothing, and the admirals ran for cover. You know, the Tailhook Association is a civilian organization with no authority over military personnel, but Hook became the scapegoat. Nobody was standing up for the troops, and I mean nobody. Except Mike Derringer, and he wasn’t even in the loop.”
“What really happened, Terry?”
“Well, I couldn’t stay for the whole thing and left Saturday morning. Next thing I knew, the JAG goons were beating down my door, saying they had ‘proof’ I was there. Hell, I never denied it. What I did deny — and it’s true — is that I ever saw any sexual harassment. Years later I learned that somebody said he’d seen a guy who looked like me with one of the women who complained. She was a pro, by the way; several of ‘em hopped on the lawsuit bandwagon. Anyway, that was enough to red-flag me for promotion. It happened to lots of guys. I know one who was in San Diego that whole weekend but his name got on the ‘suspect’ list and that was that. No due process, no
