State of Siege - Tom Clancy [60]
"This was not my decision, sir," Solo said. "I know, Lieutenant," Hood said, "and I'm not angry at you." He wasn't. He was angry at everyone. "But I do have a situation that requires the presence of my second-in-command, General Rodgers. The general is not a member of the Striker unit."
Lieutenant Solo looked from Hood to Rodgers, then back to Hood. "If that's true, then my instructions do not pertain to the general." Rodgers stepped away from the Strikers and moved through the tight circle of MP'S.
Mohalley scowled. "Hold on," he said. "The general order I was given does pertain to all security and military personnel, including General Rodgers. Mr. Hood, I'd like to know what the situation is that requires the general's presence."
"It's personal," Hood replied.
"if it pertains to the situation at the United Nations-"It does," Hood said. "My daughter is being held hostage there. Mike Rodgers is her godfather." Mohalley regarded Rodgers. "Her godfather."
"That's right," Rodgers said.
Hood said nothing. It didn't matter whether the DOS security officer believed him. All that mattered was that Rodgers be allowed to go with him.
Mohalley looked at Hood. "Only immediate family are allowed to go into the waiting room with you." "Then I will not go to the waiting room," Hood said through his teeth. He'd had enough of this. He had never hit a man, but if this functionary didn't step aside, Hood was going to push him aside.
Rodgers was standing directly beside the shorter State Department officer. The general was watching Hood. For a long moment, the only sound was the wind. It seemed much louder now in the silence. "All right, Mr. Hood," Mohalley said. "I'm not going to hold your feet to the fire on this one."
Hood exhaled.
Mohalley looked at Rodgers. "Would you like a ride, sir?" "I would, thank you," Rodgers said.
Rodgers was still looking at Hood. And Hood suddenly felt like he did when they used to sit in his office at Op-Center. He felt reconnected, tapped into a network of devoted friends and coworkers.
God help him. In the midst of everything, he felt whole again. Before leaving, Rodgers turned to the Strikers. They came to attention. Colonel August saluted him. Rodgers saluted back. Then, on August's command, the Strikers returned to the C-130. The circle of MP'S parted to let them through. The police remained on the landing strip as Hood, Rodgers, and Mohalley returned to the car. Paul Hood didn't have a plan. He didn't imagine that
Mike Rodgers had one, either. Whatever Rodgers might have been thinking of doing would have involved Striker. But as the State Department sedan turned from the Marine Air Terminal and the towering C-130, Hood was slightly less anguished than he had been before. It wasn't entirely Rodgers's presence that comforted him. It was also a reminder of something he'd learned from running Op-Center: that plans made in moments of calm rarely worked in a crisis anyway.
There were only two of them, but they were backed by the strongest team in the world, and they'd think of something. They had to.
New York, New York Saturday, 11:11 p.m.
"I absolutely can't allow you to do this!" Colonel Mott was practically shouting at Secretary-General Chatterjee. "It's insanity. No, it's worse than insanity. It's suicide! was The two were standing by the head of the table in the conference room. Deputy Secretary-General Takahara and Undersecretary-General Javier Qlivo. were standing several feet away beside the closed door. Chatterjee had just hung up with Gertrud Johanson, the wife of the Swedish delegate, who was at home in Stockholm. Her husband had attended the party with his young executive assistant, Liv, who was still in the Security Council chamber. Mrs. Johanson would be flying over as soon as possible.
It was both sad and ironic, Chatterjee thought, that so many political wives ended up with their husbands