He laughed softly, nodding his head. “Okay, consider me duly chastened. May I ask why not? Is there someone you’re currently dating?”
She ignored the second question. “I like you, Pug. That’s why not.”
“Reverse logic?”
“Not at all. Basic female logic. I do like you. I really like you, and I can see that you like me. I could say I don’t date younger men,” she said, a broader smile crossing her face.
“Forty-two and forty-four does not place me in the category of a Toy Boy,” he said.
Rachel laughed out loud. “I guess not. It would appear that we’ve both done our homework on the other’s biography. And it’s forty- three, not forty-four.”
“Guilty again. I looked up Senator Rachel Ann McKenzie’s congressional stats and life history. I’m assuming you’ve done the same. But am I entitled to any other explanation? I mean, let’s face it. Two single people our age, both educated, both involved in government, favorable toward the military, involved in similar political issues-at least, at present. What are the odds that we could find someone else who had the same values, same interests, card-carrying conservatives, so to speak.”
“Very low odds, I would say, Pug.”
“And you say you like me.”
“Yes, I do, and that is exactly why I don’t want to go down this road.”
Pug shook his head. “You told the president that the Senate confused you. I can only imagine what you do to them,” he responded.
Again, silence for several moments. Then, “Okay, here it is in a nutshell, General Connor. My father was an Air Force pilot who was killed in aerial combat in Vietnam before my second birthday. My husband was a National Guard company commander and was killed, also in combat, in Afghanistan just over five years ago. Now, I’ve just met another military guy who is a Marine general with an outstanding combat record with a Bronze Star and a Navy Cross for covert actions that are not public information. While that makes you a brave and competent officer, a leader of men from your peer’s perspective, and the nation has expressed its gratitude, it makes you a poor risk for a romantic relationship with a woman who has more than paid her dues to America. Is that clear enough?”
Pug stared into Rachel’s eyes, holding his tongue, absorbing the rhetoric she had just delivered. She had succinctly confirmed everything General Austin had told him that day in the Capitol. Her face was stoic and her demeanor quite serious.
“A romantic relationship, you say? That sounds good to me, Senator,” he said, keeping a straight face.
After about ten seconds of silence, both of them started laughing out loud.
“Why don’t we just start with dinner sometime, Rachel? Sometime soon. Maybe I chew nosily, or pick my teeth. Maybe I’ll make you share the bill. You may not want to go down that road because it’s full of pot holes, not because the destination is unclear… or dangerous. Maybe I just want recreational sex. Maybe you just want recreational sex. Let’s not jump to conclusions too soon.”
“Goodnight, Pug,” she said, opening the car door. “Thank you for a lovely evening and a ride home. See you… when I see you,” she said. “It sounds as if the president is going to put us in the same room together rather quickly. And I think we’ll both be too busy for any recreation.”
“Goodnight, Rachel. And by the way, I like you too, Senator,” he said.
Chapter 26
Office of Strategic Initiatives
Washington D.C.
June
“I want that pilot program approved now, General, not next month or next week. Now!”
“I understand, Mr. Harford. I make the final presentation to Senator Culpepper’s sub-committee tomorrow. I see no reason for delay. I can assure you, we’ll get it done. I already have assets in the 4 ^th Army command at Fort Sam Houston ready to implement. San Antonio will be the Army’s staging area for the pilot.”
“The Army is in a supporting role, not the primary agency. Remember that. A lot’s riding on this, General Wainscott. I’m sure you understand. If we can prove the merits of our surveillance techniques in San Antonio, Colorado Springs, and even here in D.C., then the program will go national. I need experienced men to command that program. You’re about to retire and I’m counting on you to fill one of those roles. Do we understand each other?”
“We do, sir. Just leave it to me.”
Harcourt rose and started to walk toward the door of his office, a signal that the meeting was over. “Call me the minute the meeting ends and I’ll get things started. Remember, your Army cohorts are in an observation role only, to report on the results. By your own comments, this is not a program for the Army or the National Guard. I’ll take care of the tactical implementation. SI has that covered.”
“I understand. I’ll call you tomorrow,” the general said, departing Harford’s office.
Several seconds after Wainscott left, a side door opened and another man entered without comment. Harford looked at him briefly and returned to his seat behind the desk. The man assumed the seat occupied moments earlier by General Wainscott.
“It would seem that your time has come, my Irish friend,” Harford said. “Did you ever envision the day when you would ply your trade on American soil?”
At five ten, with reddish-brown, thick hair, and a skin darkened by years of outdoor living, the new visitor to Harford’s office did not present the appearance of an accountant or any other business professional.
“I did, John. It’s not the first time I’ve been here on… business. I could see it coming as far back as 9/11. Those conspiracy fools who blamed their own government for those actions have only made it easier. And you certainly had that general dancing on a string.”
“The world’s a funny place, Devlin. If I had stayed in the Army, I would have been a lieutenant colonel or perhaps a full bird, but I would also have been getting Wainscott’s coffee. Now, a four-star general is sitting in that chair, saying ‘yes, sir,’ and kissing my ass.”
“Grab it by the bollocks, my pa used to say. When do we commence operations?”
“Saturday, if all goes well tomorrow in the closed Senate committee meeting. Wainscott will testify and call me after the vote. Have you lined up both operations?”
“Six men in Kansas City, random shootings at the mall, followed within an hour by a half-pound of Semtex in four separate locations at the Marriott, including the lobby. There’s a convention of city managers who will be in the adjacent grand ballroom. Our actions will be successful, barring an unexpected law enforcement presence or unusually alert hotel security. This attack will cause international news, John.”
“That’s what we’re counting on.”
“Some four hours later, with your pilot program already operative, the unmanned aerial surveillance over San Antonio will spot a suspicious van, and quick response alert forces manned by SI Troopers will capture or kill the six men inside as they attempt to initiate random shootings along the River Walk, thereby proving the merit of close surveillance. The attacking force in San Antonio is expendable, John. Primarily Middle Eastern, all with Muslim ties. Most, if not all of them, will die in the ensuing firefight with our security forces on the ground. The resident commander will see to that. I’ve worked with him before and he understands the importance of succeeding based on the intelligence I’ll provide.”
Harford nodded. “Better if they’re all dead, Devlin. And by the following week, with media coverage rampant and legislative demand growing, the pilot program will be expanded to several hundred cities across the nation as quickly as we can gear up. How much do your ‘terrorists’ in San Antonio know? And the Troopers, especially the team leader?”
Devlin Hegarty smiled. “They know where San Antonio is, John. Nothing more.”
It was John Harford’s turn to smile.
To the untrained eye, Devlin Hegarty would have appeared to be nothing more than a rugged-appearing businessman in an Armani suit. But beneath the tailored cloth, the fifty-four-year-old former IRA bomber had maintained the physical fitness of an Olympian. To the practiced eye, his face betrayed even more. His piercing eyes, beneath the reassuring nature of their deep blue, were hard and unflinching, reflective of years of close-in work during the heyday of IRA action in Northern Ireland. Those days were over, but despite the growing peace accords in Ireland, Hegarty had found ample work throughout the world. It had not taken him long to discover that there was never a lack of would-be leaders who thought that the opposition, or in some cases, the incumbent government, needed to change. Working alone for the most part, he occasionally tapped into the netherworld of mercenaries and soldiers of fortune as he had on this occasion for John Harford. Hegarty had been on SI’s black ops payroll on many occasions over the past decade, and John Harford had learned to trust the man, at least to the extent that Harford trusted anyone.