Cliff Ryder - Aim And Fire

“Yes, but we also know that in the nineties the army officers were selling anything that wasn’t bolted down just to survive. Some of them, like General Kryukov, apparently liked it so much that they decided to go into business for themselves.”

Her mentor’s eyebrows rose. “He’s still around, eh?”

“Yes, and doing what he does best. Recently he’s been busy in Pakistan and India. However, on one of his recent deals, someone managed to outfox him and switched a ten-kiloton device with waste. So it’s loose, and I think it’s either headed here or already inside our borders.”

“My dear, surely with your resources, you’d have far more access to this sort of information than I.” Tucking his case under his left arm, he offered his right to Kate, who linked hers through it as they walked to the lounge, Jake trailing them like a very solid shadow.

“Herbert, what’s the first thing you taught me?”

“Analysis and secondary data never equals information gained firsthand.”

“There you are. Don’t worry, I’ve got folks sifting through everything they can get their hands on, but there are those sources that simply cannot be accessed with computers. Now, since I’ll be getting this from you, it’s not the firsthand info that you always preferred—” Kate smiled again “—but I’m willing to take that chance.”

“You are, are you?” Herbert sat down at a table and set down his gun case. “When I headed the CIA, we estimated there were anywhere from fifty to one hundred portable tactical nuclear devices that had been moved out of Russia, both before and after the Curtain came down.

The majority of those are either nonfunctional due to deg-radation of the various power or detonation systems, or have been lost around the world.”

“But?”

“ But, in a no-limit, table-stakes Omaha poker game I was in with an ex-KGB general last month, he may have alluded to the fact that there are still a dozen viable devices floating around out there, and if any of the fundamental-ist Muslim groups get their hands on one, they’d either try nuclear blackmail, or take it a step further and carry the jihad to our very shores.”

“The simulations we’ve seen never look good. A detonation near a city puts casualties in the tens of thousands.

Considering that once it’s in the country, there’s very little to prevent a cell from transporting it to a major metropolitan area and setting it off, the best bet is to stop it at the border. But again, that’s a problem in and of itself, given the still-porous state of both the north and the south.

“Did you hear about the incident near El Paso?” Kate slid her BlackBerry over to him, but he waved it off.

“The twenty-plus illegals killed? Yeah, it trickled into the news even up here, then got pushed aside just as quickly. You think there’s a connection?”

“I can’t think of much else anyone would kill so many over, unless they were hiding something. Even drug smugglers usually aren’t that ruthless—why kill their mules? It sounds like it’s linked to something bigger. It’s my next appointment in town. I’m sending someone down to look into it.”

“You’re sending a Washington person down to the Tex-Mex border to look into the slaughter of illegal immigrants? That’s what I would call counteranalysis indeed.”

“I’m not worried. This young woman is very capable.

Besides, she’ll be assigned to an experienced Border Patrol agent who will keep an eye on her. I’m sure she’ll be fine.”

Herbert folded his hands over his trim stomach. “Any asset in a storm, right? From what I hear, it’s still the Wild West down there. I’m sure you know what you’re doing, but be careful.”

Kate leaned over and took his hand. “Don’t worry. The second lesson you taught me was to do everything in your power to make sure an agent or asset comes back alive.”

Herbert fixed her with his blue eyes, and for a second, he looked like the steel-hard director she had known fifteen years ago. “Yes, but sometimes everything you do still isn’t enough.”

Kate just nodded. There wasn’t anything to say to that truth. After a moment lost in thought, she said, “I’m afraid we have to get moving if we’re going to get there on time.

It’s been a pleasure, Herbert, as always.”

“When you get that all taken care of, you should come down to our Hilton Head cottage for a few days, take it easy. You look tired, Kate.”

Rising, she shrugged. “No worse than you when you were in the thick of it—pots of coffee and thirty-six-hour days. It’s the life we chose.”

He rose with her. “That we did. Good luck with this— and for all of our sakes, I hope you’re sending that analyst on a wild-snipe chase.”

“So do I, Herbert, so do I.”

Tracy had finished her actionable tasks, and was closing the last files on her desktop. Just a few more minutes, and she’d be home free. The soft trill of her phone froze her in the midst of her efficient maneuvering. Oh, no, not now.

Any other time but now. “Yes?”

It was Gilliam. “Tracy, a situation has come up that needs your immediate attention. Someone is waiting to brief you in Conference Room B. You are to extend them every courtesy, understand?”

“I…” She trailed off, knowing the futility of any protest.

“Yes, sir, I’ll be there in just a moment. I’m just finishing up at my desk.”

She dialed Paul’s cell phone, knowing what his reaction was going to be even before he answered.

“Hi, Tracy, you on your way?”

“Paul, I—something’s come up at work. I hope it won’t take long, and I’ll be there as soon as I can.” She hated the pleading tone in her voice. “It’s beyond my control.”

“Tracy.” Paul’s voice was a mix of resignation and controlled anger. “You know how important this is to Jennifer.”

“Of course I do. You think I want to be here instead of there? You know as well as I do that these things happen— remember our one-year anniversary? I’ll try to make it as soon as I can.”

“Well, wish Jennifer luck, will you? Hold on.”

She heard muffled voices, and silently cursed again. I didn’t think she’d be next to him.

“Tracy?”

“Hi, sweetie.”

“Daddy said you might not make it.”

“Sweetheart, they need me at work just a little while longer, but I’ll be there as soon as I can, okay?”

There was a long silence, every second breaking Tracy’s heart. Then Jennifer’s small voice replied, “Okay. I have to go backstage now.”

“I’ll be in the audience by the time you make your entrance, okay?” Although her tone was light, part of Tracy’s mind was aghast at what she had just promised.

The school was a half hour away in light traffic, and afternoons usually doubled the travel time. “Bye, sweetie.”

“Bye, Tracy.” There was a click as the connection was broken, and Tracy took a moment to get herself under control again. Deep down, she had known it was too good to be true, that something would come along to sabotage the outing. For a moment, she wondered if Gilliam had or-chestrated it, but dismissed the idea. He thought he was Machiavellian, but this didn’t sound like him, especially since he wouldn’t be there to see her squirm.

She got up and headed for the small conference rooms used for breakout meetings and group briefings. All of them were dark except for the second one down. Resigning herself to an afternoon of monotonous briefing, she took a deep breath and knocked.

“Please come in.”

Opening the door, Tracy walked in and closed it behind her. The room was its usual barren self, with an oval table surrounded by ten wheeled swivel chairs. Sitting in one of them at the head of the table was her appointment, who looked nothing at all like Tracy had expected.