Adkins closed a file folder on his desk, and got to his feet as McGarvey walked into the DCI’s seventh-floor office. The director looked worn-out, the weight of the world on his shoulders. His jacket was off, his tie loose.
“Here he is at last,” he said. “From what Ms. Ibenez has been telling us, you two have probably created a firestorm for us.”
Gloria was seated across from the DCI, along with Rencke’s boss Howard McCann. None of them looked happy.
“He had it coming, Dick,” McGarvey said, crossing the room. He pulled a side chair over and sat down next to Gloria. “And there’s a good chance he’s dirty. I’ve got Otto looking into it for us.”
“Dirty or not, he could charge Ms. Ibenez with criminal assault,” McCann pointed out dryly. “There were two witnesses.”
“Actually there were three witnesses if you count me,” McGarvey said. “Has Weiss or anyone from the ONI called or filed a complaint?”
“Not yet, but I expect it’s coming.” McCann glanced at Gloria with obvious distaste. “God help us if the media gets the story. We’ll never hear the end of it.”
“We’re going to put Ms. Ibenez on the South American desk until this blows over,” Adkins said. “It’s a good idea that she keep a low profile for now.”
“That’ll have to wait. Ms. Ibenez has agreed to give me a hand.”
“Oh, come on, McGarvey,” McCann said. “I’ll give you anyone you want. Hell, take your daughter if you need a woman on the mission for some reason. But Ms. Ibenez is going to keep her head down.”
“Liz and her husband have got their hands full out at the Farm,” McGarvey said. He was having second thoughts about Whittaker’s recommendation for McCann to head the DO. The man was a competent administrator, but he knew nothing about the sort of people who worked for him. CIA field officers were a breed apart. And he was no spy. He’d spent nearly all his career behind a desk, writing reports rather than generating them.
“Okay, I’ll give you someone else—” McCann said, but McGarvey waved him off.
“She’s already up to speed. And where I’m going I might need someone to cover my back.” McGarvey smiled faintly. “She’s already proved that she can handle herself in a fight.”
“In my book, injuring a military officer when he was doing nothing more than his job is not exactly a sterling recommendation,” McCann shot back.
“Apparently she hasn’t told you that Weiss was pulling out his gun to shoot me with, so she had to disarm him,” McGarvey said. “That alone makes her my new partner.”
“She didn’t have to break his arm,” Adkins suggested.
“Did she tell you that Weiss hit her first, even though she was trying to defuse a situation that was getting out of hand? Nearly knocked her unconscious.” He looked at McCann. “What would you have done in that situation, Howard? Throw harsh words at the man?”
“I wouldn’t have been there in the first place.”
“No, you wouldn’t,” McGarvey said. “And if you don’t mind a suggestion from someone who’s held your job, ease up on your people. Don’t be such an asshole.”
McCann flared, and he nearly came out of his chair. “Shooting people to death or threatening them with great bodily harm is not proper tradecraft.” He nodded toward Gloria. “And this woman managed to get her partner shot up with no problem.”
“The bad guys shot him, Howard, and then killed themselves. They’re the same sort who hit us on 9/11, and the same sort who damned near nailed the Panama Canal, and who are trying to come up with a submarine, a weapon, and a crew to hit us again.” McGarvey glanced at Adkins. “I’ve never been politically correct, and I sure as hell am not about to start now.” He turned back to McCann. “Yes, I’ve killed people in the line of duty. And I plan on doing it again. However many it takes for me to get to Graham and stop him, and however many more it takes for me to get to bin Laden and put a bullet in his brain.”
McCann wanted to say something else, but Adkins held up a hand. “Otto thinks Graham will probably try to get his hands on a Kilo boat.”
“That’s what he told me,” McGarvey said, though he wasn’t as convinced as the Special Projects director was. It seemed too pat, too easy. Maybe they were missing something.
Adkins read some of that from McGarvey’s body language. “But?”
“I don’t know, Dick. But I don’t think we should limit ourselves. Graham knows the business. He might have connections we know nothing about. Just like bin Laden does. Pakistan and Iran both have submarines. So do a lot of other countries.”
“In the meantime Otto has got the NRO doing a complete survey of every single Kilo submarine,” Adkins said. “Louise is in charge of the project, but it’s big. Our best guess is in excess of fifty boats spread out from Russia to India, and from Iran to Romania. A few of them are at sea, some of them submerged. Some are in sub pens and therefore invisible, some are in breaking yards being dismantled for scrap, while most are tied up at their docks in plain sight. But it’s the ones we’re going to miss that worries me.”
“What about bin Laden?” McGarvey asked. “Have you guys turned up any new leads yet?”
“The Pakistanis may be closing in on him in the mountains along the Afghanistan border near Drosh,” McCann said.
“They’ve been saying the same thing since 9/11.”
“It’s a tough place to search,” McCann countered. “They’re not only fighting the terrain, but the local tribal chiefs who don’t much care for Islamabad.”
“We have four augmented teams on the ground with ISI right now, and another four en route,” Adkins said. “If he’s there we’ll definitely find him this time.”
“I hope so, because some of those people are going to get killed up there.”
Adkins lowered his eyes, and fingered the file folder. “Did you really want this job, Mac?” he asked. “Did you ever like it?”
McGarvey knew exactly what Adkins was feeling. He’d been there himself. “No one’s supposed to like it. You’re just supposed to try to make a difference.”
“Bob Talarico’s funeral is at four this afternoon at Arlington,” Adkins said. He looked up. “Will you be there?”
“Of course,” McGarvey said. “I have to go over to the apartment to change clothes and see if Katy’s okay. Our furniture is on its way to Florida.”
A bleak look came across Adkins’s face. “There’s no telling how long this’ll take, you know.”
“Don’t worry,” McGarvey said, getting to his feet. “I’m in for the duration.”
“What’s your next step?”
“Gloria and I are going to help Otto find the Kilo boat, because when it shows up Graham will be aboard.”
“Good luck,” Adkins said.
“We’re going to need it,” McGarvey replied. “If Graham gets any wiggle room at all we’ll probably lose him.”
“I’m going to need Ms. Ibenez to file a Sitrep and sit for a debriefing,” McCann said. “No use asking if you’ll do the same.”
“Later,” McGarvey said.
“Go ahead,” Adkins told Gloria. “I’m assigning you to temporary duty under Mr. McGarvey’s direction.”
“Do you think that’s wise, Mr. Director?” McCann asked.
“No, but that’s the way it’s going to be.”
“Thank you, sir,” Gloria said, getting up.
“Keep us posted, would you, Mac?” Adkins asked.
“Through Otto,” McGarvey promised, and he and Gloria left the office and took the elevator down to the parking garage.
“Thanks for rescuing me,” she told him.
“This won’t be easy,” McGarvey warned. “Screw up and you could get both of us killed.”
“I’ll try to keep up,” she said. “But why me? I thought you always worked alone.”