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  There were positive mumbles and nods, and the group trooped to the front door and checked in with security. Todd was sent upstairs for his appointment with Holly Barker, while the others were told to take a seat and wait.

  Todd took an elevator to the top floor and found her office. Her secretary wasn’t in yet, so he rapped on Holly’s door.

  “Come in!” Her voice was strong as ever.

  Todd opened the door and stepped in. “Good morning.”

  “Good morning. Take a seat.”

  Todd sat and waited. She looked great in her business suit, he thought. If she hadn’t been his superior, he’d have hit on her a long time ago.

  “I’ll give it to you without adornment,” Holly said. “The project you’ve been working on is discontinued. As you know, it was an off-the-books effort, so no records of any kind were kept of it. If you’ve made notes or kept any other materials, destroy them today, without exception. Neither you nor your former team members are ever again to speak of that effort, among yourselves or to any other person. Am I clear so far?”

  “Perfectly clear,” Todd said, his heart sinking.

  “I appreciate your written evaluations of your team members, which have already been burned, and I accept your conclusions. Therefore, each of them has had his records annotated positively and will be assigned to a new operation within thirty days, one which each will, no doubt, regard as an advancement.”

  “Thank you for that, Holly,” Todd said. “I’m grateful to you.”

  “Don’t be grateful too soon,” Holly said. “I’m not finished.”

  Todd took a deep breath and let it out.

  “Those above you have concluded that you are an able and resourceful officer who has had a run of bad luck. They have also concluded that your talents would be best used in other than an operational position.”

  He was being demoted, that was clear; all that remained was to learn if it was bad enough that they would expect him to resign.

  “The deputy director has had a long conversation about you with Ed Freely, the deputy director for Technical Services.”

  Todd frowned and his pulse increased; this, he had not expected. Were they going to bury him in the basement of the Agency forever?

  “Both Lance and Ed believe you have the technical skills and personal qualities to be a success in Tech Services. This is Ed’s offer: he will assign you as a tech supervisor, meaning you will oversee tech specialists who are equipping operatives for foreign assignments. He feels that you can both learn from your specialists and teach them, given your operational background.

  “You will be evaluated after a year or so in this assignment, and you will either continue in that position, if Ed feels you need further experience, or, if he feels you are ready, be promoted to assistant deputy director for Technical Services.

  “Personally,” Holly said, “I think you have what it takes to succeed Ed as deputy director, in time, and he is due for retirement in six years. That’s it, Todd. Give me your thoughts.”

  Todd’s thoughts were that he had been handed a great gift. He had always worried about being killed or crippled on an operation, or failing abjectly. What Holly was offering was an opportunity for long-term success in the Agency. “Again, I want to thank you for your treatment of my team,” he said.

  “You’re welcome.”

  “I think your offer to me is a better than fair one, and I am very pleased to accept it.”

  Holly smiled and stood up. “Ed Freely is waiting for my call now,” she said. “I’ll tell him you’re on your way downstairs.” She held out a hand.

  Todd shook it. “Please thank Lance, too, for his recommendation.”

  “I’ll do that,’ground.” Holly said. “Good luck down there, I know you’ll do well.”

  Todd left her office, breathing deeply and sagging with relief. As he waited for the elevator, only one thing nagged at him: Teddy Fay was still out there, and now he would have no way to stop him.

  Holly went into Lance’s office and sat down.

  “How’d he take it?” Lance asked.

  “He seemed genuinely pleased,” she replied, “not to mention relieved. He was very happy about the fate of his team, and he asked me to thank you for his new opportunity.”

  “I think it’s a good fit for him.”

  “So do I.”

  “I suspect that young Todd is relieved to be out of harm’s way,” Lance said. “He has always exhibited the kind of bravado that usually covers insecurity.”

  “I think most operational agents have insecurities,” Holly said.

  “Don’t confuse anxiety, which is useful for keeping one on one’s toes, with insecurity, which has a large element of fear and foreboding.”

  “A good point,” Holly conceded. “Something else has always bothered me about Todd,” she said.

  “And what would that be?”

  “He lacks charm, and I think that is an essential quality in an agent, who is constantly trying to recruit sources.”

  “That’s an astute observation, Holly,” Lance said. “It’s the sort of thing I’ve come to expect from you, and reaffirms my assessment of your executive skills.”

  “Thank you, Lance. I know you’d rather not hear his name spoken, but could I get you to speculate for a moment about what might have happened if we had not come to terms with Teddy Fay, and he had continued his existence as a thorn in our flesh?”

  “You’re right, Holly, hearing his name is probably going to give me a rash in an uncomfortable place, but I will answer your question. It’s perfectly clear that Mr. Fay is a brilliant man, one whom I would prefer to have leading my most difficult operation than out in the wild, making trouble-in Lyndon Johnson’s words, ‘inside the tent, pissing out, rather than outside, pissing in.’ As to what could have happened if we had not agreed to stand down: well, it could have resulted in a series of minor but vexing incidents, but more likely it would have been big and very noticeable events that would have ended in the destruction of Kate Lee’s career, not to mention yours and mine, and the ruining of a fine president’s reputation. Is that what you wanted to know?”

  “Yes,” Holly replied, “and I entirely agree.” She got to her feet. “I think I can go back to work now and get some things done.”

  “You do that,” Lance said, then turned to his computer and began to type. “Oh,” he said, looking up, “what’s happening with Stone and Dino’s investigation?”

  “I saw them last night,” she said. “They have a lead, but if this one doesn’t pan out, their investigation will probably end there.”

  “They think the FBI report is correct, then?”

  “I think this new wrinkle is their last chance of proving it wrong.”

  “Keep me posted.” Lance turned back to his computer, and Holly went back to her own office. owv>

  29

  Todd Bacon was escorted to the office of Edward Freely, deputy director for Technical Services, and Freely stood up to greet him. “Good to see you again, Todd,” he said. “When was the last time? When we equipped you for Panama?”

  “That’s right, Ed, not since then.”

  Ed waved him to a chair. “I take it Holly Barker gave you the overview of what you’re to do here?”

  “She did, and I’m grateful for the opportunity and looking forward to the work.”

  “Well, there’s plenty of it to go around. I’ve got a tech supervisor, Tank Wheeler, who’s retiring next month, and I had been having difficulty promoting from within, when Lance brought you to my attention. I’ve given you a small office next to Tank’s, and I’d like you to work with him until his thirty years is up. He’s involved in the equipping of three operations at the moment, and there’ll never be a better time for you to plunge in. After Tank’s retirement party, which should be a doozy, we’ll restore his office to a semblance of repair and order, and you can move into it. I’ve been told that you’ve got thirty days off coming, but I’d be grateful if you’d spen
d that with Tank and take the time later.”

  “That’s fine with me, Ed.”

  Ed looked up. “Here’s Tank now.”

  Todd stood up and shook hands with the very large man whom he had met only once before, at the beginning of his Panama mission.

  “It’s good to see you in Tech Services, Todd,” Tank said. “You’re going to have a good time here, I can tell you that.”

  “I know I will, Tank.” Then they all sat down, and Tank gave him an overview of what they were doing for the three pending operations.

  A little before seven that evening, Todd left the building and walked to his car. There was a note on the windshield: Never mind the phone calls, meet us at J.Paul’s as soon as you can.

  Todd got into his rental car and drove away from the Agency. He was going to need a new car, and he was thinking Porsche. The promotion would make it easy to handle the payments, and he could drive it for a long time.

  He found the pub in Foggy Bottom, and when he walked into the place, a reproduction of an old saloon, there was a shout from a big table at the rear. They were all there, and somebody handed him a double of his favorite scotch as he sat down.

  “We’re alive!” his number two said. “All of us. Great assignments, though we’re not supposed to tell you or anyone else what we’re doing.”

  “Then don’t,” Todd said, “but I’ll see you all again anyway, when you come to Tech Services for your gear.” He took a huge swig of his drink.

  “You got Tech Services?” number two asked. “That’s cushy work-interesting, too.”

  “Not as interesting as what you’re all going to be doing,” Todd said, “but I’ll never have to pull a stakeout on a cold night again, or save one of your asses from something dire.”

  “I’ll drink to that,” someone said, and they all did.

  “And we’ll never have to worry about what’s-his-name again,” Todd said, owv>n’t“and by the way, that name is never again to be mentioned by any of us, not even to each other. Everybody got that?”

  There were grumbles and nods.

  “That’s the way the cookie crumbles,” said number two.

  “The cookie doesn’t exist,” Todd said. “Not anymore.” He tossed off the rest of his scotch. “Now, who do I have to fuck around here to get another drink?”

  “That would be me,” said a pretty waitress at his elbow. That got a big round of applause.

  Todd watched appreciatively as she went back toward the bar for his drink.

  “Watch it, Chief,” one of his men said.

  “I am, pal, I am.”

  Teddy Fay worked away at his airplane in his hangar at Clinton Field. He borrowed a small crane from the airfield’s shop and spent the morning unbolting his engine from the airframe and lowering it into a crate, for shipment back to the manufacturer. The engine had served him well, but it was near the end of its Time-Between-Overhauls period, and he had elected, for reasons of speed, to replace it with a factory remanufactured engine, which came with a zero-time logbook and a full warranty. The new engine would arrive the following day. Teddy also had plans to replace most of the instruments in the airplane’s panel with new glass cockpit instrumentation.

  Teddy screwed the lid of the crate into place and affixed a shipping label. The engine would be picked up the same day. He was having the propeller overhauled locally.

  Lauren called down from upstairs. “The movie starts at two,” she said.

  “I’ll get cleaned up, and I’ll buy you lunch,” he called back.

  He went upstairs, used grease remover on his hands and scrubbed his nails, then he took a shower and changed clothes.

  Lauren was waiting in the almost new Toyota convertible he had bought her the day before, and he got into the passenger seat. “Take me for my first spin,” he said.

  They drove across the ramp, past the FBO (Fixed Base Operator), where they stopped to let a Cirrus pass in front of them, on the way to parking. Teddy exchanged a wave with the instructor, sitting in the righthand seat. “I’ve talked to that guy a couple of times,” Teddy said to Lauren. “He’s trying to get me to become a part-time instructor here. The FBO has a busy little flying school.”

  “Why don’t you do that?” Lauren asked, driving behind the airplane toward the exit gate.

  “Tell you what I’d rather do,” Teddy said. “I’d rather teach you to fly.”

  “Me, fly?”

  “I think you’d enjoy it. As soon as I get the airplane back together, let me give you a few lessons. If you don’t like it, we’ll forget about it.” Teddy was concerned about her becoming bored in their new location.

  “Okay, I’ll give it a whirl,” she said.

  They drove out to a mall, lunched at a little restaurant, and went to see The Social Network. They both thought it was great.

  Back at Clinton Field, they let themselves through the security gate with the card they had been given, then had to slow again for the same plane they’d seen earlier.

  “That stude>h tnt seems to be taking two lessons a day,” Teddy said. “That’s quite a load of work.”

  “He must have a lot of time on his hands,” Lauren said. “Maybe he’s too rich to work.”

  “Maybe so,” Teddy replied.

  30

  Stone and Dino sat in a borrowed office in the West Wing of the White House and gazed at the middle-aged Filipino woman who sat across the desk from them. She was fidgeting a little, and there was a film of perspiration on her forehead. She was the fourth of the four White House maids who cleaned the family quarters, the first three having been a waste of time to question.

  “Mrs. Feliciano,” Stone said, “we’d like to talk with you for a few minutes about your work.”

  “I try very hard to do the best job I can,” the woman said. “I hope there haven’t been any complaints.”

  “Oh, no,” Stone said, “nothing like that. We’re just interested in some of the visitors you may have encountered in the family quarters.”

  “Does the president know you’re talking to me?” the woman asked.

  “Yes, he does. We’re speaking to you at his request.”

  “The president told you to talk to me?” Now she looked more nervous than ever.

  “No, Mrs. Feliciano, not just you. We’re talking to all the maids who work in the family quarters to get a few questions answered.”

  Her shoulders slumped in relief. “Well, I don’t know anything,” she said. “I just clean.”

  Stone smiled and tried again to put her at ease. “How long have you worked at the White House?” he asked.

  “Twelve and a half years,” she replied.

  “And how long have you cleaned the family quarters?”

  “A little over three years.”

  “Good. Now think back over the past two years or so. Have you, when you were cleaning upstairs, ever seen anyone in the quarters who did not belong there?”

  “Oh, no, sir, the Secret Service people would never allow any unauthorized persons in the quarters.”

  “How about authorized persons, like the cooks and repairmen?”

  “Oh, yes, I see them all the time.”

  “How about Mr. Kendrick? Did you ever see him in the quarters?”

  “Mr. Brix? Oh, yes, many times.”

  “What would he be doing when you saw him?”

  “Well, he would sometimes bring in people from the outside, like to install new carpets or curtains, or he would supervise when they put in a new TV, or once, a new ice machine.”

  “Did you ever see Mr. Brix in the quarters with a lady?”

  “Sometimes the people he brought in would be a lady.”

  “Did you ever see Mr. Brix and a lady go into or come out of one of the upstairs bedrooms?”

  The woman looked more thoughtful. “Sometimes.”

  “Do you remember who any of the ladies were?”

  h ked more dth="1em">“He sometimes brought the White House decorator upstairs.”
<
br />   “And what is the decorator’s name?”

  “Miss Charles,” she replied. “I don’t know her first name.”

  “Did you ever see Mr. Brix take Miss Charles into one of the bedrooms?”

  “I guess … I’m not sure.” Then her face changed, as she seemed to remember something. “Oh,” she said, “do you mean go into a bedroom and close the door?”

  “Did you ever see Mr. Brix and Miss Charles go into a bedroom and close the door?”

  “No,” she replied, “but once I…” She flushed a little.

  “Go on, Mrs. Feliciano.”

  “I don’t want to get anybody in trouble,” she said.

  “Don’t worry, no one will get into trouble.”

  “Well, once I saw that happen, but it wasn’t Miss Charles.”

  “Who was the lady?”

  “I don’t know. I went upstairs once to bring some linens that had come back from the laundry. It was early in the afternoon, when I’m not usually in the quarters. I clean in the mornings.”

  “Go on.”

  “Well, I was in the linen closet, putting away some sheets, and I heard some voices-a man and a woman. They were laughing. I stepped out of the closet just in time to see two people go into the Lincoln Bedroom. One of them, the man, was Mr. Brix.”

  “And the other?”

  “I couldn’t tell. I just saw her back for a second before Mr. Brix closed the door.”

  “Think back. Is there anything at all you can remember about the woman? Tall or short? Heavy or slim? Blonde or brunette?”

  She closed her eyes for a long moment, then she opened them. “No,” she said.

  “What did you do then?”

  She looked a little embarrassed. “I won’t get into trouble?”

  “No, Mrs. Feliciano, you won’t get into trouble. Please be honest with us, this is very important.”