Stephen Mertz - The Korean Intercept

Her outlook had evolved from the sense of awe and wonder she'd first experienced upon arriving in Washington almost a year ago to being as jaded as only a political reporter in a world capital could be. During that time, she had developed a feel for her work that did not come from schooling or training but only from working the turf, as the Americans said: from whether or not you adapted and became attuned to the nuances, the subtext a good correspondent watched for beneath the veneer of political blather and double-talk that was the stock in trade of every politician everywhere; and it was this that was now pestering her subconscious as she watched the room slowly empty of correspondents.

The White House spokesman had seemed… well, distracted, she thought. Halliday had a well-earned reputation for being unflappable. You had to be, in his line of work. The press secretary invariably went into a press conference ready with the administration's media handouts for that day, certain of his facts and figures and prepared to engage the American network correspondents and the top American wire service people, who were assigned the front rows and received most of his attention. The question and answer time rarely included the foreign press and certainly had not today. Not that it mattered. Every topic covered had been mundane and wholly routine. But today Meiko had been close enough to the front to sense what she perceived as a subtle preoccupation, a sort of disengagement on the part of the press secretary. She wasn't sure exactly why she thought she sensed this, but she did: an artificial inflection here and there, a glancing to the curtained wings of the small stage, something he did not usually do, as if he was waiting, hoping for someone to bring him some sort of news or information. He was not as focused as usual. Something else beyond the administration's rhetoric about the upcoming economic summit in Europe was on John Halliday's mind.

Meiko now faced the decision of what to do about it. She knew from experience that she had no chance of getting close directly, one-on-one, with John Halliday. That was practically impossible, even for the big three American networks and CNN. She would have to work her contacts. She would have to probe. Maybe she was wrong. Maybe the press secretary just hadn't gotten enough sleep last night.

She sensed someone approaching and turned.

Trev Galt walked up to her.

She thought: speaking of contacts… She met him with a smile. "Well well, Trev, I didn't see you here. What did you think of the press secretary's performance?"

"I missed it, I'm happy to say. I just got here."

He wore his Class A U.S. military uniform. The current president was a stickler for propriety, and this included a dress code for White House personnel.

There was no physical contact between them. Nothing to suggest that they had been dating regularly for the past several months. They'd slept together three times, and that was the last three times they'd seen each other. He was the only man she'd been with since coming to America, and only the second man she'd ever made love with. There was something between them, something nice: a strong mutual attraction that had been there from the moment they met. They enjoyed each other's company and leisure interests, such as movies and tennis and picnics in the country. One thing had seemed to naturally lead to another. She'd felt some reservation at first about sleeping with a married man, but told herself that it made a difference because Trev and Kate were separated. Now though, with Kate Daniels in the news, aboard that space shuttle in outer space, something had changed between Meiko and Galt. What had drawn her to Trev initially was his combination of toughness and gentleness, tenderness and supreme confidence. Trev Galt was a tall mountain of a man. His blue eyes, set in a craggy, oak-tanned face, were always warm with her. But she had no difficulty imagining them as cruel, cold, like chips of ice. This man could kill, and probably had. She knew only that he was attached to the National Security Council, and that he worked in the West Wing of the White House at an administrative level. There was a steadfast rule between them that they never discuss his work, especially in light of the fact that she was a journalist. Theirs was a weekend relationship, which was only what either of their busy schedules permitted. This was the first they'd spoken to each other in two weeks.

Considering the shuttle lift-off, there was only one question she could now think of to ask him. "How are things with Liberty?"

She saw at once that this was the wrong question. The blue eyes chilled. "I just know what you know. I'm having a busy day."

Something about the curtness of his reply irritated her. Or maybe, she thought, she'd irritated herself, because he was on her mind so much during the past two weeks. There was no one within earshot. Her cameraman was busy talking shop across the room with a cameraman from one of the networks. So she went ahead and said what she'd promised herself she would never say.

She said, "I've been waiting for you to call."

"I thought we weren't going to talk about us when we met in public like this."

"I'm sorry, Trev. But we also agreed to see each other, and we were until… two weeks ago."

"I told you I've been busy."

"You've been busy avoiding me. We agreed in the beginning that this relationship would be over the first time either of us wanted it to be over. I want to be a good thing in your life, Trev. I don't want to complicate it and I won't. But you're not going to just end what's between us with no explanations and no goodbyes, are you?"

"Meiko, I don't want to talk about it right now."

"Neither do I. But we need to talk. I'm worried, Trev. Not about us, but about you. You're drinking more, like you were when we first met, before you dried out for me."

"Meiko-"

"And I couldn't help but notice that your drinking became worse as the time drew closer for the Liberty launch." She stared into his eyes. "I'd be disappointed if you weren't concerned about Kate's safety up there in space. She is your wife." She reprimanded herself even as she spoke, hearing the emotion in her voice, and she knew he would hear it too. "But you did tell me that the romance part of your relationship with Kate was over between you. That you'd agreed it would be all right for you to each date different people. I don't want a lot, Trev. I just want to understand the situation I'm dealing with."

"I'm sorry. I guess I just don't know, either."

"Then that's the problem, isn't it?" She kept her voice pitched low. They remained beyond earshot of anyone else. This would appear only as a cordial exchange to anyone observing them. "Are you in love with two women at the same time, Trev? Is that the problem? You don't like being indecisive, do you? You're not that type of man. I'll bet this is the first time you've been indecisive in a long while."

Galt chuckled. "I can't remember the last time. I'm sorry, Meiko. I haven't been fair to you. I will call."

"Then I'll settle for that, and I'll let you in on a little secret. I wish I understood my own feelings. Perhaps I'm getting what I deserve for feeling this way about a married man."

They became aware then of someone approaching. A man she recognized as being from the Military and Naval Aides' Office reached them with a purposeful stride and addressed Trev as if she weren't there.

"Sir, excuse me. The president wants to see you."

Meiko and Trev nodded to each other, the polite unspoken goodbye of two mere acquaintances, and she watched them walk away, angry at herself for having brought up her and Trev's private life the way she had. It had been gnawing at her more than she'd realized, obviously, for everything to come firing out of her as it had. She had always considered herself to be highly disciplined, professionally and emotionally.