James Huston - Fallout

“I don’t know.”

“But where does that get you? Some foreign country’s going to be investigating the son of the Director of the CIA if he shows up for some exchange program?”

“Yeah. I don’t think it gets us anywhere. It’s just the only thing I can point to. I don’t trust the guy. Can you have somebody look into him?”

“You know how hard it is to get the CIA to ‘look into’ anything?”

“I thought you worked there. You can get them to do whatever you want.”

“Yeah, right.”

“Sorry. I shouldn’t—”

“I didn’t say I wouldn’t do anything. I just want you to appreciate how hard it is. Especially when you have nothing to go on.”

“Well, if you can—”

“Pakistani, you say.”

“Right.”

“You got anything you can show me?”

Brian picked up the brown envelope lying on his desk. He opened it and pulled out the documents. “I’ve got the information they forwarded to us to verify their security clearances.”

“Fax it to me. I know somebody in Pakistan. Let me make a couple of calls.”

“Thanks. I owe you one.”

“Counting this one, I think you owe me about a thousand.”

“No doubt.”

“You’re working yourself into the ground,” Katherine said as she walked outside behind Luke.

He had changed into his jeans and his usual gray fleece pullover. “No harder than you used to work in your law firm.”

She couldn’t argue with that. “And I was working myself into the ground…”

They walked across the sandy area that passed for a backyard behind their sprawling ranch house toward the well-used Bobcat. Luke climbed up into the cab and sat on the cushioned seat. “I can’t take three months to build the runway. I only rented this Bobcat for two weeks. I’ve got to get it done.”

“Do you think maybe you’re thinking about too many things at once?”

There weren’t many hours of daylight left. Luke had his hand on the starter lever but resisted the temptation to start the engine. “Like what?”

“Think about what you’re doing—starting a new company, leasing a fleet of fighters and one of the world’s best airfields, borrowing a hundred million dollars…”

“He invested . I didn’t borrow anything.”

“You know what I mean. Plus buying a new house, building your own private airfield, trying to buy an airplane. Don’t you think you’re taking a little too much on your shoulders? Oh, and starting a family.”

“I feel more in control of my life than ever. Nobody’s going to tell me to leave my family to go to sea. Nobody’s going to move me across the country for the needs of the Navy. We’re finally where we can decide exactly what we want to do. And I happen to have the best job in the world. It’s going to take a lot of work to get through the first year. We both know that. But it’s worth it to me. The runway,” he said, looking at his half-done strip for his nonexistent airplane, “is a dream. You know me. I’ve always got some project going. Keeps me from watching television.”

“How is that Pakistani student?”

“Khan?”

“Yeah. You had a lot of questions about him after the first two days.”

Luke got quiet. “I still do.”

“Serious questions?”

“I don’t trust him at all. I don’t know what the hell he’s up to, but his goal in life sure isn’t trying to be the best student in the school. He’s got something else in mind.”

“Need me to do anything?”

“Brian is working the problem. He really doesn’t trust the guy. And he’s got his brother at the CIA looking into it.”

“The CIA?” She thought about the implications. “Should we call the Undersecretary and ask him about Khan?”

“He’s the one who sent him here. I don’t think that would do much good.” Luke pushed the starter. The Bobcat’s diesel engine rumbled to life. “I’ve got to get working before the sun sets.”

“I still say you’re taking on too much.”

He put the Bobcat into gear. “You have any problem with me buying an airplane?”

“With whose money?”

“Ours.”

“We don’t have any.”

“I could get a loan.”

“I quit my job to move here, Luke. We don’t have enough money to buy an airplane.”

“Sluf just bought an airplane. He moved to Vegas. He’s going to start commuting from there every day.”

She frowned. “What did he buy?”

“Just a little Cessna. Used. Paid about thirty K for it.” He paused. “What if the company bought it?”

Katherine pulled her hair off her face, where the wind had blown it. She glanced at the sun heading for the western mountains. “Are you asking me as the general counsel or as your wife?”

“Both.”

“You can’t use company money to satisfy your personal hobby desires. The company certainly does not need an acrobatic biplane. The company has lots of airplanes. I don’t see a biplane fitting into the mix.”

“Then maybe I’ll buy a MiG-17, like Stamp.”

“I don’t think so. And you’re sure not landing a jet here and starting it at six in the morning with a cup holder for your commuter mug.”

He smiled at the image. “Maybe I can find a fixer-upper.”

“Now, that’s comforting.”

“Just kidding. I’ll save, I’ll scrimp, I’ll borrow, I’ll do it all. But I will have my Pitts Special before the year’s out.”

“We shall see.”

Luke looked at the sky. “I need to get working.”

Katherine stood back and gestured to his beloved runway.

Kevin Hayes pulled the sandwich out of the bag sitting on his desk in his cubicle. He studied the bacon sitting on top of the turkey and wondered how long ago it had been cooked and whether trichinosis can resurrect itself in cooked bacon if it sits in a cold pan for long enough. The dark red, almost black meat was entirely limp and now held tomato seeds in its valleys. He decided to pull the tomatoes and microwave it. He pushed his chair back and stood up when Theresa Crane walked around the side of the cubicle and stood looking at him. He rose and faced her, trying to hide the concern he felt. She’d never been to his cubicle, even though he’d worked for her for two years. “Hello,” he said casually.

“What section are you in?” she asked.

He looked at her with a puzzled expression. “Excuse me?”

She folded her arms. “What section are you in?”

Hayes was really confused. “ Your section. Africa.”

“That’s what I thought ,” she said sarcastically.

“What am I missing?” he asked, putting the sandwich back in the bag, ready to carry it to the lunchroom.

“You want to explain to me what you’re doing making inquiries in Pakistan?”

Here we go, he thought. “Checking on Major Riaz Khan of the Pakistani Air Force. He’s attending a school in Nevada. The Nevada Fighter Weapons School, where he’s flying F-16s against American adversary pilots.”

Crane looked at him suspiciously. “Is Pakistan in Africa?”

He was able to hold his tongue, but not his sarcastic tone. “Uh, no.”

“Is Nevada?”

He sighed. “No.”

Her eyes narrowed.

He answered her unasked question. “Some people have some… concerns.”

“What people?” she asked as she continued to stare. Her mind was spinning quickly. Finally her face showed recognition. “Your brother.”

He nodded slowly, knowing what was coming.

Now she was truly angry. “You’re doing private intelligence consulting on the side? Using United States government assets ?”

“Where’d you hear about this?”

“That doesn’t matter. You’ve got no business working for your brother. Not from here.”