Call to Treason - Tom Clancy [37]
"That's a strong word, Kat," Link remarked.
"Isn't that what we're talking about, generating strong reactions?"
Orr could see this getting personal. Kat was very protective of her public relations activities, and both Link and Kendra liked to be involved in everything. Until now, they usually agreed.
The senator looked at his watch. "People, General Rodgers will be here soon. I suggest we do the following. I agree with Kat. I do not want to come on too strong tonight about Wilson. But I do see one way in.
This is a Metro Police matter. A federal agency like the National Crisis Management Center has no business being involved. General Rodgers works for Op-Center. He will know what is going on. That is something we can be aggressive about."
"Right," Kat said admiringly. "That will also shift the attention from us onto some vague conspiracy theory."
"That's a good one," Kendra admitted.
"Ken, do you know anything more about this budget cut?"
"No. I saw it in the Congressional Intelligence Oversight minutes."
"What other agencies were hit?" Orr asked.
"None," Link told him. "They all received bumps, in fact."
"So this is a big wrist-slap for Hood," Orr said. "Kat, research the NCMC and talk to Senator Debenport. He's the head of the CIOC. See if you can find out, informally, what precipitated the cut. That might be useful in the general election. Debenport will have to explain why he is putting our nation at risk. I'll find out what I can from Mike Rodgers."
"Senator, the CBS people will be here in a half hour to set up," Kat said.
"I'm sure General Rodgers won't mind a brief interruption." Orr rose.
"Thank you, all. This has been very stimulating."
The conference room emptied quickly, and the senator went to his office. A sense of order had been restored, but one that was laced with healthy tension. The interns, assistants, and secretaries felt it and stayed focused. This was how Orr liked it. Direction with a whisper of urgency, purpose without desperation.
Of course, things might not remain this way. But that was all right, too.
Senator Orr shut his office door. The heavy silence felt good. He enjoyed it for a moment, then listened to the phone messages his secretary had passed on. He returned just one, a call to his wife. He wanted to tell her about William Wilson before she heard it on the news. Valerie Orr spent most of the year in Texas because she disliked catty Washington society. The senator missed her but was glad she chose the ranch over D.C. If anyone ever insulted her or talked about her, he would give that individual an old-fashioned switch-whipping.
As he sat down to review General Rodgers's dossier one last time, Orr thought about something his father used to say on the ranch. Whenever money or water were precipitously low, Jeremiah Orr would push an ever-present plug of Red Man chewing tobacco between his cheek and gum, look down at his feet, and say to no one in particular, "I still like our position a whole lot better than the cows." "
Come what may, Senator Orr liked a good challenge. He liked testing his own ideas and hearing the ideas of his team. He liked his position.
He liked it a lot better than William Wilson's.
* * *
FOURTEEN
Washington, D.C. Monday, 2:59 p.m.
To most outsiders, the Capitol and the office buildings that serviced it denned the phrase corridors of power. For over a century, ideas that had first influenced the world, then dominated it, were debated here. Refined here. Presidents were humbled here or declared war here. Laws were passed or revoked here, causing ripples that affected every life in the nation, through every federal, state, and local court. Art and expression were financed here or restricted here.
What Mike Rodgers saw were not COPs. Whenever he had business here which was mercifully rare Rodgers felt as though he were entering an abattoir. Fortunately, until this morning, he had not been a very fat cow, so the blades did not usually affect him. But this was where budgets were hacked, policies were eviscerated, good ideas were