State of Siege - Tom Clancy [67]
Rodgers nodded once.
"I've heard about Striker," Mohalley said. "They've got quite a rep. As far as I'm concerned, we couldn't do much better than to send your people in and get this thing over with."
"It's sick," Hood said. "Everyone probably feels that way, but no one will authorize it."
"This whole thing is a mess," Mohalley said as his car phone beeped. "Hundreds of heads and no brain. It's almost breathtaking, in a tragic sort of way."
Mohalley answered the phone as the car stopped at the Fortysecond Street barricade. A pair of police officers in riot gear walked over. While the driver showed them his State Department ID, Mohalley listened in silence.
Hood watched the man's face under the glow of a streetlight. Curiosity gnawed at him. He looked over at the United Nations complex. From this angle, looking up, the Secretariat Building seemed large and imposing against the black sky. His baby seemed so small and vulnerable as he thought about her inside that blue white monstrosity.
Mohalley hung up. He looked back. "What is it?" Hood asked. "Another delegate was shot," Mohalley told him. "And possibly," he said, "possibly one of the children."
Hood stared at him. It took an instant for "one of the children" to translate as possibly Harleigh. When it did, life seemed to lose all forward momentum. Hood knew that he would never forget Mohalley's somber expression at that moment, the brilliant white glare on the windshield, and the looming Secretariat behind it. It was now and forever the picture of lost hope. "There was a gunshot prior to the one that killed the delegate," Mohalley went on. "One of the UN security people in the adjoining chamber heard someone trying to get out the side. door there. There was a cry or a groan after that."
"Is there any more information?" Rodgers asked as the police let the car through.
"There's been no communication from the Security Council," Mohalley said, "but the secretary-general is going to try to get inside." The sedan pulled up to the curb. "Mike," Hood said. "I've got to go to Sharon."
"I know," Rodgers said. He cracked the door and stepped out.
"General, would you like to come with me?" Mohalley asked. Rodgers stepped aside as Hood climbed out. "No," he said, "but thanks."
Mohalley handed Hood his business card. "Let me know if you need anything."
"Thanks," Hood said. "I will."
Mohalley once again looked like he wanted to ask something but didn't. Rodgers shut the door. The car pulled from the curb and Rodgers stood facing Hood.
Hood heard the distant sounds of traffic and the hum of the helicopters hovering over the river and the UN. He heard the shouts of police and the clump of sandbags being dropped behind wooden barricades along Forty-second and Forty-seventh Streets. Yet he didn't feel like he was there. He was still in the car, still staring at Mohalley.
Still hearing him say, "And possibly one of the children. was "Paul," Rodgers said.
Hood was staring at the buildings as they shrank into the darkness of upper First Avenue. He had to force himself to breathe. "Don't go away on me," Rodgers said. "I'm going to need you later, and Sharon needs you now."
Hood nodded. Rodgers was right. But he couldn't seem to get out of that damn car, away from Mohalley's sad face and the horror of that moment.
"I'm going across the street," Rodgers went on. "Brett is going to meet me at the shell."
That got Hood's attention. His eyes shifted to Rodgers. "Brett?" "We saw the MP'S when we were taxiing to the ter minal," Rodgers said. "We had a pretty good idea why they were there. Brett told me he'd get out somehow and meet me here." The general found a little smile. "You know Brett. No one tells him to run."
Hood came back a little. Whoever the possible victim was, there were still lives at risk. He looked over at the State Department tower. "I've got to go."
"I know," Rodgers said. "Take care of her." "You have my cell phone number-was
"I do," Rodgers said. "When we find something out or have any ideas, I'll call."
Hood thanked him