The Cardinal of the Kremlin - Tom Clancy [158]
"We work normal business hours," Jack explained to a well-dressed woman whose eyes were slightly dilated. "I even have tomorrow off."
"Really?"
"Yes, I killed a Chinese agent on Tuesday and you always get a day off with pay for that sort of thing," he said seriously, then grinned.
"You're kidding!"
"That's right, I'm kidding. Please forget that I ever said it." Who is this overaged bimbo? he wondered.
"What about the reports that you're under investigation?" another person asked.
Jack turned in surprise. "And who might you be?"
"Scott Browning, Chicago Tribune." He didn't offer to shake hands. The game had just begun. The reporter didn't know that he was a player, but Ryan did.
"Could you run that one by me again?" Jack said politely.
"My sources tell me that you're being investigated for illegal stock transactions."
"It's news to me," Jack replied.
"I know that you've met with investigators from the SEC," the reporter announced.
"If you know that, then you also know that I gave them the information they wanted, and they left happy."
"You're sure of that?"
"Of course I am. I didn't do anything wrong and I have the records to prove it," Ryan insisted, perhaps a little too forcefully, the reporter thought. He loved it when people drank too much. In vino veritas.
"That's not what my sources tell me," Browning persisted.
"Well, I can't help that!" Ryan said. There was emotion in his voice now, and a few heads turned.
"Maybe if it wasn't for people like you, we might have an intelligence agency that worked," observed a newcomer.
"And who the fuck are you!" Ryan said before he turned. Act I, Scene 2.
"Congressman Trent," the reporter said. Trent was on the House Select Committee.
"I think an apology is owed," Trent said. He looked drunk.
"What for?" Ryan asked.
"How about for all the screw-ups across the river?"
"As opposed to the ones on this side?" Jack inquired. People were drifting over. Entertainment is where you find it.
"I know what you people just tried to pull off, and you fell right on your ass. You didn't let us know, as the law requires. You went ahead anyway, and I'm telling you, you're going to pay, you're going to pay big."
"If we have to pay your bar bill, we'll have to pay big." Ryan turned, dismissing the man.
"Big man," Trent said behind his back. "You're heading for a fall, too."
Perhaps twenty people were watching and listening now. They saw Jack take a glass of wine off a passing tray. They saw a look that could kill, and a few people remembered that Jack Ryan was a man who had killed. It was a fact and a reputation that gave him a sort of mystery. He took a measured sip of the chablis before turning back around.
"What sort of fall might that be, Mr. Trent?"
"You might be surprised."
"Nothing you do would surprise me, pal."
"That may be, but you've surprised us. Dr. Ryan. We didn't think you were a crook, and we didn't think you were dumb enough to be involved in that disaster, I guess we were wrong."
"You're wrong about a lot of things," Jack hissed.
"You know something, Ryan? For the life of me I can't figure just what the hell kind of a man you are."
"That's no surprise."
"So, what kind of man are you, Ryan?" Trent inquired.
"You know, Congressman, this is a unique experience for me," Jack observed lightheartedly.
"How's that?"
Ryan's manner changed abruptly. His voice boomed across the room. "I've never had my manhood questioned by a queer before!" Sorry, pal
The room went very quiet. Trent made no secret of his orientation, had gone public six years before. That didn't prevent him from turning pale. The glass in