Patriot games - Tom Clancy [226]
"So, Dennis, what are we to do with you?"
Cooley's heart was momentarily irregular, but he spoke with determination. "I want to be part of the next op."
"Excuse me?" O'Donnell's head came around in surprise.
"The fucking Brits-Kevin, they came after me!"
"That is something of an occupational hazard, you know."
"I'm quite serious," Cooley insisted.
It wouldn't hurt to have another man "Are you in shape for it?"
"I will be."
The chief made his decision. "Then you can start this afternoon."
"What is it, then?"
O'Donnell explained.
"It would seem that your hunch was correct. Doctor Ryan," the man with the rimless glasses said the next afternoon. "Maybe I will take you to the track."
He was standing outside one of the huts, a dumpy little man with a head that shone from the sunlight reflecting off his sweaty, hairless dome. Camp -18 was the one.
"Excellent," Cantor observed. "Our English friends have really scored on this one. Thanks," he said to the photo expert.
"When's the op?" Ryan asked after he left.
"Early morning, day after tomorrow. Our time eight in the evening, I think."
"Can I watch in real time?"
"Maybe."
"This is a secret that's hard to keep," he said.
"Most of the good ones are," Cantor agreed. "But-"
"Yeah, I know." Jack put his coat on and locked up his files. "Tell the Admiral that I owe him one."
Driving home, Ryan thought about what might be happening. He realized that his anticipation was not very different from Christmas? No, that was not the right way to think about this. He wondered how his father had felt right before a big arrest after a lengthy investigation. It was something he'd never asked. He did the next best thing. He forgot about it, as he was supposed to do with everything that he saw at Langley.
There was a strange car parked in front of the house when he got there, just beyond the nearly completed swimming pool. On inspection he saw that it had diplomatic tags. He went inside to find three men talking to his wife. He recognized one but couldn't put a name on him.
"Hello, Doctor Ryan, I'm Geoffrey Bennett from the British Embassy. We met before at-"
"Yeah, I remember now. What can we do for you?"
"Their Royal Highnesses will be visiting the States in a few weeks. I understand that you offered an invitation when you met, and they wish to see if it remains open."
"Are you kidding?"
"They're not kidding. Jack, and I already said yes," his wife informed him. Even Ernie was wagging his tail in anticipation.
"Of course. Please tell them that we'd be honored to have them down. Will they be staying the night?"
"Probably not. It was hoped that they could come in the evening."
"For dinner? Fine. What day?"
"Friday, 30th July."
"Done."
"Excellent. I hope you won't mind if our security people-plus your Secret Service chaps-conduct a security sweep in the coming week."
"Do I have to be home for that?"
"I can do it, Jack. I'm off work now, remember?"
"Oh, of course," Bennett said. "When is the baby due?"
"First week of August-that might be a problem for this," Cathy realized belatedly.
"If something unexpected happens, you may be sure that Their Highnesses will understand. One more thing. This is a private matter, not one of the public events for the trip. We must ask that you keep this entirely confidential."
"Sure, I understand," Ryan said.
"If they're going to be here for dinner, is there anything we shouldn't serve?" Cathy asked.
"What do you mean?" Bennett responded.
"Well, some people are allergic to fish, for example."
"Oh, I see. No, I know of nothing along those lines."
"Okay, the basic Ryan dinner," Jack said. "I-uh-oh."
"What's the matter?" Bennett asked.
"We're having company that night."
"Oh,"