The three looked at each other. Fritz was the first to speak. “So what the fuck does that mean?”
13
Holly Barker was working at her desk at CIA headquarters in Langley, Virginia, when her boss, Lance Cabot, the Agency’s deputy director for operations, walked into her office and sat down across the desk from her.
“Good morning,” he said.
This was odd, Holly thought; she had met with him two hours before, at eight A.M., as was their daily custom. “Good morning again,” she replied.
Lance looked at her thoughtfully but said nothing.
“What?” Holly asked.
“It appears that you will no longer be working for me,” he said finally.
Holly sat back in her chair. “Are you firing me, Lance?”
“There are signs you might be moving from under my wing.”
“Come on, Lance, spit it out.”
“Are you saying you don’t know what I’m talking about?”
“Finally, you understand me. First of all, there’s nowhere to promote me. I’ve gone as far as I can in operations, so unless you are resigning or being promoted, where would I go?”
“Only the director knows,” he said.
Holly shook her head. “I’m baffled.” Her phone rang.
“Answer it,” Lance said.
Holly picked up the phone. “Holly Barker.”
“This is Grace, in the director’s office,” a voice said. Grace was the director’s secretary.
“Good morning, Grace.”
“Good morning, Holly. The director would like to see you.”
“Certainly. What time?”
“Now.”
“I’ll be right up,” Holly said, then hung up.
“Are things a little clearer for you now?” Lance asked.
“Not in the least,” Holly replied. “Now please tell me what this is all about.”
“Do you swear you don’t know?”
“Bring me a Bible and I’ll take an oath on it.”
“Holly, if this is some sort of power play…”
“Lance, something is eating your brain,” she said. “I don’t have any power, except through carrying out your instructions. I’m a worker bee around here.”
“You know nearly everything I know,” Lance said.
Holly thought about that. “I know only what you have chosen to tell me, and, Lance, you never tell anybody everything. ”
“Well, I’ve told you very nearly everything.”
Holly stood up. “I’ve been asked to come to the director’s office right now. Please tell me whatever you can before I go up there and get my head handed to me.”
“You know nearly everything I know,” Lance said, then he got up and went back into his office.
Holly took a compact from her desk drawer, ran her hand through her hair and made sure nothing was stuck to her teeth, then she took the elevator upstairs and presented herself to Grace.
“Good morning, Holly.”
“Good morning, Grace.” God, she was getting sick of saying good morning.
“Have a seat. The director will be free shortly.”
Holly sat down and picked up a three-month-old copy of Proceedings, the magazine of the U.S. Naval Institute, and flipped through it nervously. She heard a door close, and when she looked up Stewart Graves was standing in front of her. Graves was the assistant deputy director of intelligence, the Agency’s analysis division; it was the same job that Holly held in operations. “Good morning, Stewart,” she said.
“Did you have anything to do with this?” he asked. His tone was vaguely hostile.
“To do with what?” Holly asked. Everybody seemed to think she knew more than she did.
“I’ve been posted to London,” he said. “Deputy for Analysis to the station chief.”
“Congratulations,” Holly said. “That sounds great.” As great as it sounded, Holly knew, it wasn’t as great as his current job.
Graves turned and walked toward the elevators.
Holly looked at Grace. “What was that all about?” she asked.
“The director will see you now,” Grace said. She placed her hand on the button under her desk that unlocked the director’s office door and waited for Holly to move.
Holly walked to the door, heard the click, then opened the door and walked in. “Good morning, Director,” Holly said.
Katharine Rule Lee looked up from her desk. It had taken an act of Congress to make her director, because, although she was a career CIA officer, she was also married to the president of the United States. “Good morning, Holly, have a seat.” She pointed at a chair at a seating area by the window, then she got up and walked in that direction.
She isn’t smiling, Holly thought. She usually smiles a lot. What the hell is going on? She walked over and sat in the chair indicated.
The director settled into a chair on the other side of the coffee table and opened a thick file in her lap.
Holly knew it was a personnel file, and she feared it was hers.
“You’ve been with us for a little over eight years, now,” the director said.
“Yes, ma’am.”
The director ran her finger down a page. “You’ve had an unusual career for the Agency-retired from the army as a major after twenty years’ service. You should have made colonel. Why didn’t you?”
Surely she knew all about this, Holly thought, but she told her story anyway. “I was serving under a colonel as his exec. He blocked my promotion.”
“For what reason?”
“He made repeated sexual advances toward me which I rebuffed, so he gave me a less favorable fitness report than I had every reason to expect. After that, he tried to rape me, and I fought him off and turned him in.”
The director looked at the file. “It says here you struck him.”
“I broke his nose rather badly,” Holly said. “He was court-martialed for the attack on me. It turned out he had actually raped another female officer, a lieutenant.”
“And he was acquitted,” the director said.
“He was, ma’am. He had friends on the court, and two of them were in a position to see that I was never promoted again. I had put in my twenty, so I took retirement.”
The director consulted the file again. “And you became the chief of police in Orchid Beach, Florida?”
“The deputy chief, Director. The chief who hired me was murdered the day before my arrival, and the city council shortly voted for me to succeed him.”
“And you had quite a career there,” the director said.
Holly didn’t know how to respond to that.
“And then you impressed someone here and we recruited you.”
Holly just nodded.
The director closed the personnel file. “And you have done nothing less than splendid work for us since the day you arrived.”
Holly blinked. “Thank you, Director.”
“Holly, as you know, my husband is in the last year of his second term.”
“Yes, ma’am.” The entire planet knew that.
“And when he leaves the White House, I will leave the Agency and retire with him.”
“Yes, ma’am.”
“As you might imagine, there has been a great deal of speculation within the Agency about who my successor will be. What you may not know is that there has been a cabal at work here which has been plotting to see that a particular someone from the Agency succeeds me, rather than someone from the outside. Or someone from elsewhere in the Agency.”
“Really, ma’am?” Holly knew about this, because Lance had told her.
“From what I can determine, the cabal wishes to see Frank Hellman, the deputy director for intelligence, have this job.”
Holly nodded.
“You probably saw his assistant, Stewart Graves, leave my office before you came in.”
“Yes, ma’am. He said he was being posted to the London station.”
“That is correct. I thought I would toss a little grenade into the hierarchy here as a way of expressing my displeasure about all this. As a result, Mr. Graves is going to London, and since you hold the same job in operations, you are being moved out of there, as well.”
“Out of Langley, ma’am?” Holly knew that she was held in some measure of disdain by those higher-ups in the Agency who knew she had never held a foreign station post.