Mike Rodgers was the same. Hood had phoned him at home at 6:30 a.m. to welcome him back, expecting to find the ringer off and the answering machine on. Instead, he got the wide-awake general. Hood told him about the meeting, and Rodgers arrived shortly after Herbert and McCaskey. There were handshakes, welcome backs, and one "You look like shit" from Herbert to Rodgers. Martha and Liz arrived a minute later. Rodgers took a moment to give terse thanks to Herbert and Martha for their help in getting him his pardon. Sensing his discomfort, Hood got right to the matters at hand.
"First," he said, "Liz — have you had a chance to talk to our local heroes?"
"I spoke with Lowell and Phil last night," she said. "They're taking today off but they're all right. Phil's got a pair of broken ribs, and Lowell's got a bashed-up ego and the 'I'm forty' blues, but they'll survive."
"I was looking forward to ragging on the birthday boy," Herbert said.
"Monday," the thirty-two-year-old Ph.D. replied. "I'm sure the target will be just as sensitive."
"What about Mary Rose?" Hood asked.
"I stopped by to see her last night," the psychologist said. "She's going to need some time off, but she'll be okay."
"The bastards used her pain to try and control us," Rodgers said darkly, "over and over."
"Believe it or not," Liz said, "there can be something positive in what she suffered. People who survive one incident like that tend to attribute it to fate. If they get through two or more, they start thinking that maybe they have some steel in them."
"She does," said Rodgers.
"Exactly. And if we nurture that, she's going to be able to apply it to her daily life."
"I always thought she had butt-kick potential behind those soft Irish eyes," Herbert said.
Hood thanked Liz, then looked at Herbert. "Bob," he said, "I also want to thank you for the support you gave me, Mike, and Striker. If it weren't for the timely arrival of your people over there, myself, Warner Bicking, Dr. Nasr, and Ambassador Haveles would have been coming home in boxes."
"Your Druze soldier was also exceptional," Rodgers said. "Without him, Striker wouldn't have found the ROC in time."
"Those people over there are the best," Herbert said. "I hope you'll remind Congress of that at budget time."
"Senator Fox will get a full and confidential report," Hood said. "I'll keep after her."
"While you're at it," Herbert said, "Stephen Viens is going to need our help. A Special Prosecutor is going to be appointed to look into the NRO's black budget. He feels that he's going to take the brunt of the scapegoating, and I agree. For the record, he and Matt Stoll and their teams worked through the night to get our satellites back on-line."
"I know he's a friend, Bob," Hood said, "and we'll do what we can. Mike, who's overseeing the return of the ROC?"
"I'm going to work with the Tel Nef commander and Colonel August on that," he said. "It's safe at the base right now. As soon as things finish quieting down in the region, the colonel and I will go back and get it."
"Fine," said Hood. "Then if you can spare some time today — you too, Bob — I'd like to sit down and put together a file of the money and lives Viens has saved thanks to his work at the NRO. Maybe we can even pull in the accounting department to satisfy the number-crunchers on the Hill."
Rodgers nodded.
"I'll have our bean-counters start pulling together the figures," Herbert said.
Hood turned to Martha and Darrell McCaskey, who were sitting together on the leather sofa. Darrell was his usual stoic, FBI self, but Martha was shaking a crossed leg impatiently.
"You two," he said, "will not be able to help with any of this. You're going to Spain tomorrow."
Martha perked up.
"Bugs sent me a report on the flight back from London," Hood said. "The police in Madrid have been arresting Basque nationals and picking up hints of something big about to happen. Something with serious international consequences."
McCaskey's expression didn't change, but Martha was beaming. She relished any chance to test her diplomatic skills and flex her international muscles.
"The national security chief over there has asked for diplomatic and intelligence help," Hood went on, "and you're both elected. Bugs and the State Department are putting together materials for you. They'll be ready before you leave."
"And I'll lend you my Berlitz tapes, Darrell," Herbert said.
"We'll be fine," Martha said. "I speak the language."
Hood's eyes were on Herbert, and Herbert must have felt them. He squirmed a little in his wheelchair and said nothing. Bugs had E-mailed him about the tension between the two, and Hood knew he'd have to do something about that while Martha was away. Just what, he didn't know. He had a feeling that preventing a war between Bob Herbert and Martha Mackall was going to prove a whole lot more difficult than averting war between Turkey and Syria.
The meeting was adjourned and Hood asked Rodgers to stay behind. As Bob Herbert exited and shut the door, Hood came from around his desk. He sat in an armchair across from the general.
"It was pretty rough, wasn't it?" Hood asked.
"You want to know what's funny?" Rodgers asked. "I've been through rougher. It was more than just what happened over there that got to me."
"Care to tell me about it?"
"Yes," said Rodgers, "because it has to do with my resignation."
Hood stared with open surprise as Rodgers pulled a business envelope from inside his jacket. He leaned forward stiffly and placed it on the desk. "I was working on that when you called this morning," he said. "It'll be effective as soon as you find a replacement."
"What makes you think I'll accept it?" Hood asked.
"Because I won't be any good to you here," Rodgers said. "No, scratch that. I just think I'll be more good to the country somewhere else."
"Where?" Hood demanded.
"I don't want to sound apocalyptic, Paul," Rodgers said, "but the Middle East really brought this home for me. Amercia's facing a streetwise and very dangerous enemy."
"Terrorism."
"Terrorism," he said, "and the unpreparedness it preys on. The government is bound by treaties and economical concerns. Groups like Op-Center and the CIA are spread too thin. Airlines and companies doing business abroad and armed forces stationed in foreign nations can also only do so much to protect their people. We need more human intelligence instead of electronic and satellite surveillance, and we need a more effective way of acting on it — preventatively. I spoke with Falah, the Israeli Druze who assisted us in the Bekaa. He was semi-retired from reconnaissance work and didn't realize how much he missed it. He's ready to go back into action. I'll talk to allies in other countries, to some of Bob's contacts. Paul, I believe this more strongly than I've ever believed anything. We need a streetwise and equally dangerous force to fight terrorism."
Hood looked at him intently. "I'm going to try and talk you out of doing this."
"Don't bother," Rodgers said. "I'm determined."
"I know," Hood said, "and I know how you get. What I mean is, I'm going to try and talk you out of resigning. Why not set up this unit of yours at Op-Center?"
Now it was Rodgers who seemed taken aback. It was several seconds before he could answer. "Paul, do you realize what you're saying? I'm not talking about different uses for Striker. I'm talking about a dedicated unit."
"I understand," Hood said.
"But we could never get that into an amended charter."
"Then we don't."
"How would you get the financing?"
"We can learn from some of the mistakes Stephen Viens made," Hood said. "I'll find a way to finance it through here. Ed Colahan can be trusted with that. Hell, I think he'd enjoy it. The CFO's jealous of all your cloak-and-dagger stuff. We've also learned from our mistakes in Turkey. We can review the data, figure out how to use the ROC more efficiently. Keep it in the field permanently instead of only where it's needed."