Kat’s phone beeped. She answered. She listened for a moment, said she would be right there, then hung up.
“That was reception,” she said. “Your friend Mr. McCaskey is here. He insists on seeing the senator.”
“Let me talk to him,” Rodgers said.
“We’ll both go,” Kat replied flatly.
Tension had descended like sleet, heavy and cold. The two walked through the office. Though it was nearly five o’clock, none of the workers was preparing to leave. Rodgers heard pizzas being ordered for dinner. There was excitement in the air, energy in the staff’s activities, a sense of purpose on youthful faces. Here he was, embarking on a new career and trying to find out who bombed his old office. Yet he felt none of what these people felt. It was not a virtue of age but of attitude. For the first time in his life, Mike Rodgers did not know which side he was on.
McCaskey was pacing in the carpeted reception area. That was unusual. He was usually Mr. Patient.
“Hello, Mike,” McCaskey said thickly. “I’d like to talk to you.” He regarded Kat. “I also want to see the senator.”
“That is not possible,” she replied. “He is out.”
“Then I’ll go wherever he is,” McCaskey told her.
“Don’t waste your time,” she said. “Senator Orr has already said he would only speak to your superior, and then as a courtesy, nothing more.”
“My superior had his office fried—” McCaskey said.
“We were very sorry to hear that.”
“I’ll pass that along when I see Paul. Meanwhile, I want to discuss the attack with the senator.”
“In what context? And by what authority do you come here and even make a demand like that?”
“Section 611 of the NCMC Operational Code,” McCaskey replied. “I quote, ‘If an ongoing operation is impeded by a tactical strike, the NCMC has the responsibility and the authority to investigate the person or persons who were a target of said operation.’ Said operation is the investigation into the murder of William Wilson. Said target is Senator Orr. As the chief law enforcement officer for Op-Center, it is my duty to speak with him.”
“From the start, Mr. McCaskey, I have believed this investigation to be politics, not police work,” Kat said. Her gaze shifted from the former FBI officer to Rodgers. “General, you are still this man’s superior. Would you, perhaps, suggest a less inconvenient and obvious avenue of harassment?”
“That is not what this is about,” McCaskey insisted.
“No, not to you,” Kat replied. “I believe you are an earnest man, a knight being moved on a chess board, convinced of his virtue but blind to the endgame. This whole thing, first the death of Wilson and now the attack on Op-Center, is clearly being hung on the senator by someone who does not want him to become president. That is what this is about. Hey, why don’t you interview Lucy O’Con-nor? Her journalistic career is going to benefit a great deal from all of this.”
“Ms. Lockley, I don’t think I’m the one who needs a reality check—”
“Hold on, Darrell,” Rodgers said.
“No, Mike. Someone hit us. I have the obligation and the right to question people who may have knowledge of the event.”
“William Wilson was a guest at the senator’s party!” Kat exclaimed. “That is the extent of his involvement with this situation!”
“Wilson was a guest just hours before he was murdered by someone who understood covert operations. That makes Admiral Link a suspect and throws a shadow on Senator Orr,” McCaskey said. “Ms. Lockley, I cannot make it any more concise than that.”
“You’ll have to,” Kat replied. “The senator has made it clear that he will not see you.”
“Darrell, why don’t you let me handle this?” Rodgers said.
“Handle what? The investigation or getting me in to see the senator?”
“There is nothing to handle,” Kat said. “This is a non-starter, Mr. McCaskey. The interview is not going to happen.” She turned to go.
“Ms. Lockley, I am prepared to ask our attorney to seek a writ of mandamus. That will order Senator Orr to make himself available,” McCaskey said. “If the writ is granted, and it will be, the senator will not be permitted to leave the District of Columbia until I see him.”
“We have attorneys, too,” Kat said over her shoulder.
“Darrell, I said I’ll take care of this,” Rodgers told him.
“Really? If you had helped before, we might have nailed the perps before Op-Center was tagged.”
Rodgers moved McCaskey toward a corner, away from the receptionist. “That isn’t fair,” the general said.
“Like hell. You were off licking your thorny paw because Paul Hood hurt your feelings.”
“Darrell, you’re stressed. This is battle fatigue talking—”
“No. This is what I should have been doing from the start. Pushing. Maybe then the attack would not have happened.”
“We’ll never know. Look,” Rodgers said. “I will go to San Diego with the senator and his staff. If they are involved, I will find out.”
“Maybe.”
“Okay, maybe,” Rodgers agreed. “But pushing like this, in Washington, may not get you anything. Lowell is very good, but the senator has friends and influence. That’s better.”
McCaskey exhaled through his nose. “I’ve never played good cop, bad cop, Mike. I don’t like manipulating people, or the law.”
“That isn’t what we’re doing,” Rodgers told him. “We’re playing by the rules of the system.”
McCaskey leaned closer. “Do you think they’re involved?”
“I don’t know. I belong to the school of innocent until proven guilty,” Rodgers said.
“Your gut, Mike. Mine says yes. What does yours tell you?”
Rodgers looked into the main office. Kat was helping Kendra organize computer files for the trip. He could not tell if she was watching him. That was the great thing about the military. He knew who the enemy was.
“My gut tells me the same thing it told me before,” Rodgers said. “To proceed with care, but definitely to proceed. I want the guys who hurt Op-Center as much as you do, Darrell. If they were responsible, I’ll find out. I give you my word.”
“What if I went with you?” McCaskey asked.
“That would be overkill,” Rodgers said. “This needs to be finessed.”
McCaskey sighed again. He seemed a little more temperate now. “You could have ordered me off. You didn’t.”
“I won’t.”
“When will you leave?”
“Kendra is leaving tonight with the senator and wants me to go with Link and his group tomorrow morning,” Rodgers told him. “That should work. It will give me a chance to smooth things over with Kat.”
“All right, Mike,” McCaskey said. “I should probably get over to Op-Center anyway. Do you know exactly how bad it was?”
Rodgers told him. McCaskey was sorry to hear about Mac but relieved and also surprised that there were no other casualties.
McCaskey left, and Rodgers went to make a phone call. He would use a pay phone, not one in the senator’s office. He did not want the call to be logged. He no longer felt like the Man Without a Country. He felt worse, like a wayward apostle.
“No man can serve two masters,” Rodgers reminded himself. Yet here he was, the man who prized loyalty above all, preparing to spy on his future colleagues to help his former teammates. Fortunately, there was another biblical quote that gave the general comfort: “The righteous man escapes trouble, and the wicked man falls into it in his stead.”
Rodgers chose to believe that one. It was easy.
There was no other choice.