Page 21 of Air Force One
She’d thought she’d built a rapport with Feldman but now some lackey was her handler? Ms. Jewish Princess-elect was about to find out that the CIA could be as horrific an enemy as it could be a major asset.
Then Sarah started to speak. As she delivered the news about Air Force One, Clarissa had to give the woman points. She had immense poise and delivered an unscripted speech without a single pause or stammer.
Considering the nine-minute timeline from crash to broadcast, maybe Feldman had only farmed out sending the message. The podium didn’t fool Clarissa; Feldman wasn’t in the Press Briefing room. She was locked in the deep underground vault of the PEOC, which meant her morning was busy indeed.
Then the camera cut to the left to show…
Clarissa’s hands dropped limply into her lap.
Miranda Chase. How was that autistic nobody always at the center of things?
Rose!
Feldman had listed Rose as one of the passengers killed.
Clarissa clawed for breath, jerking open the high buttons of her blouse to no relief. Rose had been her one friend, her one trusted advisor. Rose had dragged her back from the brink after Clark’s death had cost her the Oval Office. Even after Rose had married the President, they’d remained close. She’d been the only one Clarissa had invited to the memorial service when Kurt had gone down in the line of duty in North Korea. Rose alone knew that the head of CIA’s Special Operations Group had been her lover.
Gone.
On her own again.
Well, she was the widow of a US Vice President and the youngest director in the CIA’s history. Or had been when she’d grabbed power five years ago. She might be two years on the wrong side of forty now, but she could do this. She glanced at the phone message again as Miranda did a thoroughly predictable job of mangling the swearing-in ceremony.
Find out who! SF
If she assumed that exclamation point was specified by Feldman, perhaps the woman did see the real potential of the CIA. Now was her chance to prove it to the President. It was time for the CIA to regain its rightful power.
The instant the speech was done—nice threat, Clarissa wholly approved—she punched the intercom to her assistant.
“Set up an all-Directors’ meeting in my office. It starts in five minutes and attendance is not optional.”
18
“Your turn!” Heidi didn’t want to talk to their bitch of a boss any more than Harry did. So they’d started taking turns answering Director Reese’s calls.
Harry did one of his can’t-hear-you things by pounding away on his keyboard.
Yeah, right! He’d pay for that later and he knew it. But Harry was never big on thinking about consequences; a bad habit they both had from their hacker days.
She started the payback by actually picking up the phone rather than using the speaker so that he could listen in.
“CIA Cyber Division, how can we be of service today?” She put on her sweetest voice, the one Clarissa seriously hated. It practically made her long Nordic-blonde hair curl each time. Of course, after so many years of working together, if she was actually civil, Clarissa would assume she was up to more than she already was.
“You saw it?” Not even a snarl back.
“Yeah, we’re working on it already.”
“You’re excused from the meeting to?—”
“What meeting?” Heidi enjoyed cutting her off.
Another line rang, forcing Harry to stop pretending and answer it.
“That meeting.” Clarissa must have heard the ring.
Meeting? Heidi mouthed to Harry.
He nodded.
