Of course, the reverse was also true. E-bombs could be used against American military assets and domestic infrastructure, just as it was today in Op-Center. Nuclear war had never really been an option. An EMP conflict, a war against binary digits, was probably inevitable.
And we may have just fought the first battle against ourselves, Rodgers thought. There was something unpleasantly biblical about that. It was a new world, and not necessarily brave. Combat would be waged via monitors and grids, not face-to-face or vehicle-to-vehicle. Maybe that was better for the psyche, and soldiers would be better adjusted. Post-traumatic stress would be reduced to a level of disappointment equal to losing a video game.
Rodgers wondered whether the senator’s office had already heard what happened. Not that it mattered. A first reaction would not tell him whether or not they had been involved. He was more interested in going there, integrating himself in the activities of the late afternoon, and watching the people. Rodgers would be looking for exchanged glances when something about the attack was mentioned, or whispered phone conversations. Then there was the best information-gathering technique at alclass="underline" the direct question. What was said was often less revealing than what was not said. His last talk with Paul Hood was evidence of that. The director of Op-Center knew exactly where Rodgers was going but did not offer advice. There was trust, caution, hope, and even gratitude in Hood’s silence.
The senator’s office seemed no different than it had been before. Kendra Peterson was standing outside her office, talking to an assistant. When the woman saw Rodgers, she stopped what she was doing and went to him. Her slender face reflected deep concern.
“General, did you hear about Op-Center?” Kendra asked.
“I was there,” Rodgers told her.
“Sweet Jesus.”
“How did you find out?” Rodgers asked.
Kendra took him by the elbow and led him to a corner, away from the intern pool. “The senator received a call from Dan Debenport at the CIOC.”
“Why would Senator Debenport call here about that?”
“To say that he would request emergency funding so that Op-Center could continue to function,” she replied. “Senator Orr is Chairman of the Senate Subcommittee on Short-Term Funding.”
“That makes sense.” Rodgers wondered if it was also a warning to Senator Orr that the investigation of William Wilson’s death would continue. He could not understand why Debenport would be interested. Perhaps it was nothing more than backroom drama taking a turn in the foot-lights. “Is the admiral around?”
“Actually, he is not,” she told him. “He left for a meeting with network producers about covering the convention. Do you need to talk to him? His cell phone is on.”
“No, I’ll talk with him later,” Rodgers said. “What about Kat?”
“She’s in. How well did you know the man who was killed?”
“Not very,” Rodgers said. “He was a good man, a hard worker.”
“That’s a fine enough epitaph,” Kendra said. “Do you or Director Hood have any idea who was responsible?”
“I don’t, and if Paul Hood suspects anyone, he did not share that information with me,” Rodgers told the woman.
“Is there a reason he would not?” Kendra asked.
“I’m sure Paul was preoccupied,” Rodgers replied. He did not want to discuss the attack with Kendra. Not if there was a chance that she was involved. “What about you? Have you or the senator heard anything else?”
Kendra shook her head. “This is one of those things our country is going to have to watch out for more and more,” she said solemnly. “The senator was saying that he wants to push for a new division of Homeland Security, one that would concentrate exclusively on the technology sector. He does not think he will have much trouble getting the funds after what happened today.”
He could not tell whether Kendra had avoided the question or had instinctively and innocently slipped into stump speech mode. Just sell the preapproved ideas, nothing more. If you stick to the script, you cannot get into trouble.
“Well, that’s always the way, isn’t it?” Rodgers asked. “Get shot first, ask questions later.”
Kendra smiled. “I like that.”
“By the way, what are the senator’s travel plans?”
“He is leaving for the convention tonight on his private jet,” Kendra told him.
“Who else is going with him?”
“You’re just full of questions,” she observed. “I am going. Kat and the admiral will take a commercial flight tomorrow morning.” She hesitated. “We had hoped you would be joining us in San Diego. Will that be possible now?”
“I don’t know,” the general replied.
“You’re not part of the investigation, are you?” She added after a short pause, “Of the bombing, I mean.”
“No. I am not.”
His answer was as specific as her question. Kendra looked at him. She seemed to be waiting for him to elaborate, to say he was not part of any investigation. He did not want to lie to her so he said nothing. Yet once again, saying nothing was probably as informative as Yes. I am.
The woman smiled tightly, knowingly, then excused herself. Rodgers went to talk to Kat. He was annoyed with himself. He felt clumsy and exposed. He wondered how Darrell or Bob would have handled that differently.
Well, there is no turning this around, he told himself. The only thing to do is move forward.
Kat was in her office, on the phone, when Rodgers walked up. She smiled and motioned him in. Rodgers shut the door behind him and sat on the small sofa. A moment later, Kat hung up. She exhaled loudly.
“That was Lucy O’Connor—”
“Let me guess,” Rodgers said. “She wanted to know if the senator had any reaction to the attack on Op-Center.”
Kat nodded.
“Does he?”
“He thinks it’s awful, as we all do,” Kat said. Her warm eyes settled on his. “Were you at the NCMC at the time?”
Rodgers nodded.
“I’m sorry. Are you okay?”
“Surprisingly, yes. I lost my car and my work cell phone, and I’m guessing my credit cards got scrambled. But all of that can be replaced.”
“I assume Hood and the others are pretty shaken.”
“They’re on autopilot, but they’ll get through this,” Rodgers replied. “I’m more interested in who was behind this.”
“Of course. Any thoughts on that?”
He hunched forward. Now that Kendra was suspicious, there was no reason to be discreet. “I need to ask this, Kat, and I hope you’ll keep it between us. But is there any chance that Admiral Link was involved?”
The woman did not seem surprised by the question. “A chance? Sure. A likelihood? No. Think what the admiral would stand to lose if he were caught.”
“For what? Attacking Op-Center or having William Wilson killed?”
That one came out sounding more like an accusation than a question. This time Kat was openly disapproving.
“I surely hope you do not believe the admiral was involved in either of those,” Kat said.
“I want to believe that,” he said truthfully.