Patriot games - Tom Clancy [114]
"This is Mrs. Cummings," a voice answered after the first ring. Jack took a deep breath.
"Hello, Nancy, this is Doctor Ryan. Is the boss in?"
"Let me check. Can you hold for a second?"
"Yes."
They didn't have one of the new musical hold buttons there, Ryan noted. There was just the muted chirp of electronic noise for him to listen to. Am I doing the right thing? he wondered. He admitted to himself that he didn't know.
"Jack?" a familiar voice said.
"Hello, Admiral."
"How's the family?"
"Fine, thank you, sir."
"They came through all the excitement all right?"
"Yes, sir."
"And I understand that your wife's expecting another baby. Congratulations."
And how did you know that, Admiral? Ryan did not ask. He didn't have to. The DDI was supposed to know everything, and there were at least a million ways he might have found out.
"Thank you, sir."
"So, what can I do for you?"
"Admiral, I " Jack hesitated. "I want to look into this ULA bunch."
"Yeah, I thought you might. I have here on my desk a report from the FBI's terrorism unit about them, and we've been coordinating lately with the SIS. I'd like to see you back here. Jack. Maybe even on a more permanent basis. Have you thought our offer over any more since we last spoke?" Greer inquired innocently.
"Yes, sir, I have, but well, I am committed to the end of the school year." Jack temporized. He didn't want to have to face that particular question. If forced, he'd just say no, and that would kill his chance to get into Langley.
"I understand. Take your time. When do you want to come over?"
Why are you making it so easy? "Could I come over tomorrow morning? My first class isn't until two in the afternoon."
"No problem. Be at the main gate at eight in the morning. They'll be waiting for you. See ya."
"Goodbye, sir." Jack hung up.
Well, that was easy. Too easy, Jack thought. What's he up to? Ryan dismissed the thought. He wanted to look at what CIA had. They might have stuff the FBI didn't; at the least he'd get a look at more data than he had now, and Jack wanted to do that.
Nevertheless the drive home was a troubled one. Jack watched his rearview mirror after remembering that he'd left the Academy the same way he always did. The hell of it was, he did see familiar cars. That was a problem with making your commute about the same time every day. There were at least twenty cars that he had learned to recognize. There was someone's secretary driving her Camaro Z-28. She had to be a secretary. She was dressed too well to be anything else. Then there was the young lawyer in his BMW-the car made him a lawyer, Ryan thought, wondering how he had ever assigned tags to his fellow commuters. What if a new one shows up? he wondered. Will you be able to tell which one is a terrorist? Fat chance, he knew. Miller, for all the danger that lay on his face, would look ordinary enough with a jacket and tie, just another state employee fighting his way up Route 2 into Annapolis
"Paranoid, all this is paranoid," Ryan murmured to himself. Pretty soon he'd check the rear seat in his car before he got in, to see if someone might be lurking back there like on TV, with a pistol or garrote! He wondered if the whole thing might be a stupid, paranoid waste of time. What if Dan Murray just had a bug up his ass or was simply being cautious? The Bureau probably taught its men to be cautious on these things, he was sure. Do I scare Cathy over this? What if that's all there is to it?
What if it's not?
That's why I'm going to go to Langley tomorrow, Ryan answered himself.
They sent Sally to bed at 8:30, dressed in her bunny-rabbit sleeper, the flannel pajamas with feet that keep kids warm through the night. She was getting a little old for that, Jack thought, but his wife insisted on them, since their daughter had a habit of kicking the blankets on the floor in the middle of the night.
"How was work today?" his wife asked.