Tom Clancy's Op-center Balance of Power - Tom Clancy [62]
He hung up the phone. Bob heard it and turned. He wheeled in followed by the others. His eyes were on Hood.
"Everything okay?" Herbert asked.
It suddenly hit him. His wife had just left their home and taken the kids with her. He half had it in mind to send someone to the airport to stop them. But Sharon would never forgive him for muscling her. He wasn't sure he'd be able to forgive himself.
"We'll talk later," Hood said. "What've you got?"
"A major crapstorm, as they say back in my hometown of Philadelphia, Mississippi. I've just got to make sure you still want Darrell and Aideen in the middle of it."
"Paul," Ann said, tapping her notebook in her open hand, "if I could just steal a minute I can be out of here."
Hood looked at Herbert.
The intelligence chief nodded. "Okay if I stay?"
Ann nodded.
"Okay," Hood said to Ann.
"Thanks," she said.
Hood's eyes dropped briefly to Ann's fine-boned fingers under the notepad. The long, red fingernails seemed very feminine. He looked away. He was angry at Sharon and was drawn to Ann, who wanted him. He hated feeling that way but he didn't know what to do about it.
"I've just had a call from the BBC," Ann said. "They obtained a tourist's videotape of the scene around the Congress of Deputies in Madrid. It shows Martha's body being removed-"
"Freakin" ghouls," Herbert complained.
"They're newspeople," Ann countered, "and whether we like it or not, this is news."
"Then they're ghoulish newspeople," Herbert said.
"Let it go. Bob," Hood said. He wasn't in the mood for another family squabble. "What's the bottom line, Ann?"
She glanced at her notes. "They pulled an image of Martha's face," she continued, "ran it through their data base, and came up with a picture of Martha when she met with Nelson Mandela's Zulu rival Chief Mangosuthu Buthelezi in Johannesburg in ninety-four. Jimmy George at the Washington Post says he's got to run with what he knows tomorrow before the BBC story gets out."
Hood pressed his palms into his eyes and rubbed. "Does anyone know about Aideen being there with her?"
"Not yet."
"What do you recommend?" Hood asked.
"Lie," Herbert offered.
"If we try and fudge this," Ann replied with a hint of annoyance, "if we say something like, "She was a diplomatic troubleshooter but she was really there on vacation," no one'll believe us. They'll keep on digging. So I suggest we give them the bare bones truth."
"How bare bones?" Hood asked.
"Let's say that she was there to lend her experience to Spanish congressional deputies. They were concerned about rising ethnic tension and she's had experience in that area. True, end of story."
"You can't tell the press that much," Herbert pointed out.
"I have to," Ann said.
"If you do that," Herbert said, "they may figure out that she wasn't there alone. And then the bastards who shot Martha might come back for a second try at Aideen."
"I thought the killers were all at the bottom of the sea," Ann said.
"Maybe they are," said Hood. "What if Bob's right? What if they're not?"
"I don't know," Ann admitted. "But if I lie, Paul, then that could be deadly too."
"How?" Hood asked.
"The press'll find out that Martha was there with a 'Seńorita Temblón,' and they'll try to track her down. It won't take them long to figure out that there is no Seńorita Temblón. Then they'll try to find the mystery woman themselves. They'll also try to figure out how she got into the country and where she's staying. Their search could help lead the killers right to her."
"That's a good point," Herbert had to admit.
"Thanks," Ann said. "Paul, nothing is optimal. But if I give out this much, at least the press'll be able to verify that what we're giving them is the truth. I'll admit there was someone else and I'll tell them that because of security considerations her associate left the country quietly. They'll buy that."
"You're sure?" Hood said.
Ann nodded. "The press doesn't always tell everything. They like