The Teeth of the Tiger - Tom Clancy [130]
Upstairs, everyone had gone home for the night, except for the security staff and those who cleaned up after every day. The workstations used by the analysis staff were protected in several ways to make sure they could not be turned on without authorization. Security was tight there, but it was kept low-key, the better to maintain it, and monitored by closed-circuit television cameras whose "take" was always under electronic and human scrutiny.
In his apartment, Jack thought about calling his father, but decided not to. He was probably getting bombarded by TV and print newsies, despite his well-known practice of saying nothing about anything in order to give the sitting President, Edward Kealty, free rein. There was a secure and very private line that only the kids knew about, but Jack decided to leave that one to Sally, who was a little more excitable than he was. Jack let it go with sending his dad an e-mail that essentially said What the hell and I sure wish you were still in the White House. But he knew that Jack Sr. was most likely thanking God that he wasn't, maybe even hoping that Kealty would listen to his advisers for a change-what good ones he had-and think before acting. His father probably had called some friends abroad to find out what they knew and thought, and maybe passed on some high-level opinions, since foreign governments mostly listened to what he had to say, quietly, in private rooms. Big Jack was still somewhat inside the system. He could call friends left over from his presidency to find out what was really going on. But Jack didn't think that one all the way through.
Hendley had a secure telephone in his office and at his home, called a STU-5, a brand-new product of AT&T and NSA. It had come to him through irregular means.
He was on it at that moment.
"Yes, that's right. We'll have the feed tomorrow morning. Not much point in sitting in the office and staring at a mostly blank screen right now," the former senator said reasonably, sipping at his bourbon and soda. Then he listened to the following inquiry.
"Probably," he responded to a rather obvious question. "But nothing 'hard' yet about what you'd expect at this point, yes."
Another lengthy question.
"We have two guys right now, just about ready Yes, we do-about four of them. We're taking a close look at them right now-tomorrow, that is. Jerry Rounds is thinking hard on the subject, along with Tom Davis-that's right, you don't know him, do you? Black guy, from other side of the river, both parts of the building. He's pretty smart, has a good feel for financial stuff, and also the operational side. Surprising that you never crossed paths with him. Sam? He's hot to trot-believe it. The trick is picking the right targets I know, you can't be a part of that. Please pardon my calling them 'targets.' "
A lengthy monologue, plus a tag question.
"Yes, I know. That's why we're here. Soon, Jack. Soon Thanks, buddy. You, too. See ya sometime." And he hung up, knowing that he wouldn't actually be seeing his friend anytime soon maybe never again in person. And that was a goddamned shame. There weren't many people who understood things like this, and more was the pity. One more call to make, and this on a regular phone.
Caller ID told Granger who it was before he picked up.
"Yeah, Gerry?"
"Sam, those two recruits. You sure they're ready to play in the bigs?"
"Ready as they need to be," the chief of operations assured his boss.
"Get 'em up here for lunch. You, me, them, and Jerry Rounds."
"I'll call Pete first thing in the morning." No sense doing it right away. It was barely a two-hour drive, after all.
"Good. You have any misgivings?"
"Gerry, the proof of the pudding, you know? We have to