State of Siege - Tom Clancy [34]
Rodgers parked and jogged as quickly as his tight bandages would allow. He passed through the keypad entry on the ground floor of Op-Center. After greeting the armed guards seated behind the bulletproof Lexan, Rodgers hurried through the first-floor administrative level. The real activity of Op-Center took place in the secure, below-ground facility.
Emerging in the heart of Op-Center, known as the bullpen, Rodgers moved quickly through the checker-board of cubicles to the executive wing. The offices were arrayed in a semicircle on the north side of the facility. He bypassed his own office and went directly to the conference room, which attorney Lowell Coffey III had dubbed "the Tank."
The walls, floor, door, and ceiling of the Tank were all covered with sound-absorbing strips of mottled gray and black Acoustix; behind the strips were several layers of cork, a foot of concrete, and more Acoustix. In the midst of the concrete, on all six sides of the room, was a pair of wire grids that generated vacillating audio waves. Electronically, nothing could enter or leave the room. In order to receive calls from his cell phone, Rodgers had to stop and program the phone to forward calls to his office and then to here.
Bob Herbert was already there, along with Coffey, Ann Farris, Liz Gordon, and Matt Stoll. All had been off duty but came in so that the weekend night crew could continue to attend to regular Op-Center business. The concern everyone felt was palpable. "Thanks for coming," Rodgers said as he swung into the room. He shut the door behind him and took his seat at the head of the oblong mahogany table. There were computer stations at either end of the table and telephones at each of the twelve chairs. "Mike, you spoke with Paul?" Ann asked.
"Yes."
"How is he?" she asked.
"Paul and Sharon are both worried," Rodgers said curtly. The general kept his conversations with Ann as short as possible with as little eye contact as possible. He didn't care for the press, and he didn't like spinning it. His idea of press relations was to tell the truth or to say nothing. But above all, he didn't approve of Ann's fascination with Paul Hood. It was partly a moral issue-Hood was married-and partly a practical one. They all had to work together. Sexual chemistry was unavoidable, but "Dr." Farris never took off her lab coat when she was around Hood.
If Ann noticed, she didn't react.
"I told Paul we'd let him know when we have something," Rodgers said. "But I don't want to call unless it's absolutely necessary. If Paul doesn't get evacuated, he may try to get closer to the situation. I don't want the phone beeping while he's got his ear to a closed door."
"Besides which," Stoll said, "that line's not exactly secure." Rodgers nodded. He looked over at Herbert. "I phoned Colonel August on the way over. He's got Striker on yellow alert and is checking the DOD database for everything they've got on the United Nations complex."
"The CIA did a pretty thorough job of mapping the place while it was going up," Herbert said. "I'm sure there'll be a lot on file." Well-dressed attorney Lowell Coffey III was seated to Rodgers's left. "You understand, Mike, that the United States has absolutely no jurisdiction anywhere on the grounds of the United Nations," he pointed out. "Not even the NYPD can go in there without being asked."
"I understand," Rodgers said.
"Do you care?" Liz Gordon asked.
Rodgers looked at the husky staff psychologist who was seated next to Coffey. "Only about Harleigh Hood and the other kids in the Security Council chamber," he replied.
Liz looked like she wanted to say something. She didn't. She didn't have to. Rodgers could see the disapproval in her expression. When he came back from the Middle East, she'd talked to him about not taking out his anger and despair on other targets. He didn't think he was. These people, whoever they were, had earned his anger on their own. Rodgers turned to Herbert, who was sitting to his right. "Is there any intel on whoever did this?" Herbert sat forward