Call to Treason - Tom Clancy [151]
"Actually, Senator, we will be leaving through the underground delivery level," Mastio said.
"The basement?" Kat declared.
"Yes," the detective replied. "We do not wish to upset the senator's supporters and risk a riot."
"You deserve one," Kat said.
"They don't," Mastio replied, impatience flashing for the first time.
"Innocent individuals might be hurt."
There was no further discussion. The senator went to put on a necktie.
Kat stepped into the hallway. She grabbed a banana from the room service cart. It had arrived during the debate and was left behind.
One of the police officers made sure she took only the fruit and not a knife or juice glass.
While they waited for the senator, Detective Howell took Rodgers aside.
The men stood beside the foyer closet.
"General, I want to thank you for asking me to come out," Howell said.
"It seemed the place you should be."
"You know I screwed up on this," Howell said.
"I've heard rumors," Rodgers said. He smiled. "Just rumors."
"Thanks. I want you to know I'll make it right with the department,"
Howell said. "I'll resign or take a bust-down or whatever disciplinary action they want."
"Detective, I have a feeling your testimony is going to be important in this case," Rodgers told him. "You're going to take heat for what you did, and there's going to be exposure on aspects of your personal life.
Whatever dues you need to pay will get paid. I would be surprised if the Metro Police asked for more than that."
"I hope you're right."
"People are pretty compassionate, when you get down to it. They'll understand the kind of crap you were under from the start. If you hang tough, you'll be okay."
"Thanks." Howell smiled. "Just having Darrell make the call meant a lot."
"He's tough but fair," Rodgers said.
The senator arrived, and the group left, save for three police officers. Hotel security was called, and under the eyes of two house detectives, the trio of officers packed up Senator Orr's belongings and had them taken downstairs. Then they went to the rooms of Kat Lockley, Kenneth Link, Eric Stone, and Kendra Peterson and did the same. The suitcases were placed in a police van and driven to the station.
Mike Rodgers did not join them as they closed up the suites. He had a job to do. Ironically, with everyone else gone, General Rodgers was in fact if not in name the ranking official of the USE He decided to go down to the convention hall and address the attendees. Though he was not one for public speaking, he was remarkably calm as he stood at the podium and said simply that the events of the past day had forced the USF to reevaluate its launch plans. He suspected the senator would have a statement to make within the next day or two but had no additional information or insights to share at present. He did not answer questions shouted from those near the stage.
"As of now," he said in closing, "the party is over."
The double meaning did not appear to be lost on anyone. Slowly, thousands of people made their way to the street. Some went to their hotels to change flights, others waited for the downtown bars to open, and still others picked up discounted souvenirs from vendors.
By early afternoon, as word of the arrest and extradition of Senator Orr spread through the city, the USF banners were already coming down.
Soon, all that was left of the USF were discarded state placards and crumpled flyers tumbling from overstuffed trash cans and blowing down the Pacific Coast Highway.
* * *
FIFTY-EIGHT
Washington, D.C. Friday, 8:22 am.
It was a bittersweet meeting for all.
Stuffy, with a hint of smoke still hanging high in the air, the Tank was what it would never be again: home to all the surviving, original members of the Op-Center command team: Paul Hood, Mike Rodgers, Bob Herbert, and Darrell McCaskey. Hood had seen the men talking in the hallway and invited them in. Only Martha Mackall, who was slain in Madrid,