Tom Clancy's Op-center Balance of Power - Tom Clancy [83]
"What about María?" Hood asked. "Will she try to stop Amadori?" He knew that the White House would have some of this information. That was probably one of the reasons for the hastily called meeting. He also knew that the President would ask the same question.
"Truthfully, I don't know," Herbert admitted. "As soon as I hang up I'm going to ask Liz for the psychological workup she did when María was working here. Maybe that'll tell us something."
"What does Darrell think?" Hood asked impatiently. "If anyone would know María Corneja, he's the man." Hood didn't put much trust in psychoanalytical profiles. Cold, paint-by-number studies were less valuable to him than human feelings and intuition.
"What man knows any woman?" Herbert asked.
Hood was about to tell Herbert to spare him the philosophy when his mind flashed to Sharon. Hood said nothing. Herbert was right. "But to answer your question," Herbert continued, "Darrell says he wouldn't put it past her to kill him. She can be single-minded and very, very focused. He says she could find a handy pen or paperclip and rip a hole in his femoral artery. He also says he could see her hating his barbarity but also applauding his courage and strength."
"Meaning?"
"She could think too much or too long," Herbert said. "Hesitate and miss an opportunity."
"Would she ever join him?" Hood asked.
"Darrell says no. Emphatically no," Herbert added.
Hood wasn't so sure, but he'd go with Darrell on this one. Herbert didn't have any additional information on Serrador's death or outside confimation of his involvement with Martha's murder. But he said he'd keep working on both. Hood thanked Herbert and asked him to send all of the latest data to the President. Then he headed out to the White House.
The drive was relaxed at this hour and he made the trip in just under a half hour. Hood turned off Constitution Avenue, turned onto 17th Street, and made a right onto the one way E Street. He made a left and stopped at the Southwest Appointment Gate. He was passed and, after parking, he entered the White House through the West Wing. He walked down the spacious corridors.
Whatever his state of mind, whatever the crisis, whatever his levels of cynicism. Hood never failed to be moved and awed by the power and history of the White House. It was a nexus for the past and future. Two of the Founding Fathers had lived here. Lincoln had preserved and solidified the nation from here. World War II had been won from here. The decision to conquer the moon was made here. Given the right mix of wisdom, courage, and savvy, this pulpit could drive the nation-and thus, the world-to accomplish anything. When he was here, it was difficult for Hood to dwell on the failings of any of our nation's leaders. There was only the fire of hope fueled by the mighty bellows of power.
Hood rode the main access elevator down to the situation room on the first sublevel. Beneath this level were three other subbasements. These included a war room, a medical room, a safe room for the first family and staff, and a galley. Hood was greeted by a sharp young guard who checked his palm print on a horizontal laser scanner. When the device chimed, Hood was allowed to pass through the metal detector. A Presidential aide greeted him and took him to the wood-paneled situation room. Steve Burkow was already there. So were the imposing Chairman of the Joint Chiefs of Staff General Kenneth VanZandt, Carol Lanning-sitting in for Secretary of State Av Lincoln, who was in Japan-and CIA Director Marius Fox. Fox was a man in his late forties. He was of medium height and build, with close-cropped brown hair and well-tailored suits. There was always a brightly colored handkerchief in his breast pocket, though it never managed to outshine his brown eyes. He was a man who truly enjoyed his work.
But he's new at the job. Hood thought cynically. It would be interesting to see how long it took for the bureaucracy and the pressures