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By Root 248 0

to New York at the end of the week so Harleigh could perform with other young Washington virtuosi at a function for United Nations ambassadors. Ironically, they were celebrating a major peace initiative in Spain, where Op-Center had been involved in helping to prevent a civil war. Unfortunately, the public-parents included-were not in- vited. Hood would have been curious to see how the new secretary- general, Mala Chatterjee, handled her first public affair. She had been chosen after Secretary-General Massimo Marcello Manni had suffered a fatal heart attack. Though the young woman wasn't as experienced as other candidates, she was committed to the struggle for human rights through peaceful means. Influential nations like the United States, Germany, and Japan-which saw her strong stand as a means to tweak China-helped her get the appointment. Hood left the government phone directory, a monthly terminology bulletin-the latest names of nations and their leaders-and a thick book of military acronyms. Unlike Herbert and General Rodgers, Hood had never served in the military. He'd always felt self-conscious about never having risked his life in the service, especially when he had to send Striker into the field. But, as Op-Center's FBI liaison Darrell McCaskey once pointed out, "That's why we call this a team. Everyone brings different skills to the table."

Hood paused when he came to a stack of photos in the bottom of the drawer. He removed the rubber band and looked through them. Among the pictures of barbecues and photo-ops with world leaders were snapshots of Striker's Private Bass Moore, of Striker commander Lieutenant Colonel Charlie Squires, and of Op-Center's political and economic liaison Martha Mackall. Private Moore died in North Korea, Lieutenant Colonel Squires lost his life on a mission in Russia, and Martha had been assassinated just a few days before on the streets of Madrid Spain. Hood replaced the rubber band and put the stack of pictures in the carton.

He closed the last drawer. He picked up his well-worn City of Los Angeles mousepad and Camp David coffee mug and placed them in the box. As he did, he noticed someone standing to his left, just outside the open office door.

"Need any help?"

Hood smiled lightly. He ran a hand through his wavy black hair. "No, but you can come in. What are you doing here so late?" "Checking the Far Eastern newspaper headlines for tomorrow," she said. "We've got some disinformation out there."

"About?"

"I can't tell you," she said. "You don't work here anymore." "Touchd," he replied, smiling.

Ann Farris smiled back as she walked slowly into the office. The Washington Times once described her as one of the twenty-five most eligible young divorcees in the nation's capital. Nearly six years later, she still was. Op-Center's five-foot-seven-inch-tall press liaison was wearing a tight black skirt and white blouse. Her dark rust eyes were large and warm, and they softened the anger Hood was feeling.

"I promised myself I wasn't going to bother you," the tall, slender woman said.

"But here you are." "Here I am."

"And it's not a bother," he added.

Ann stopped beside the desk and looked down at him. Her long, brown hair fell along her face and over the front of her shoulders. Looking at her eyes and smile, Hood was reminded of all the times during the past two and a half years that she'd encouraged him, helped him, made no secret that she cared for him. "I didn't want to bother you," she said, "but I also didn't want to say good-bye at a party."

"I understand. I'm glad you're here."

Ann sat on the edge of the desk. "What are you going to do, Paul? Do you think you'll stay in D.c.?"

"I don't know. I was thinking about going back to the financial world," he said. "I've arranged to see a few people after we get back from New York. If that doesn't work out, I don't know. Maybe I'll settle in some small rural town and open an accounting practice.

Taxes, money market, a Range Rover, and raking leaves. It wouldn't be a bad life."

"I know. I lived it."

"And you don't think I can."