moment.
“That’s a given, isn’t it? Unless the rules have suddenly changed.”
“No, the same rules still apply.”
“You sound uncharacteristically reluctant.”
He sighed out a cloud of smoke. “I don’t object to retaliatory action. I object to committing to retaliatory action with undue haste. It wasn’t three hours after the strikes that C was ready to order me to send the Minders on a bloodletting.”
“This is the same C who thinks the Special Operations Directorate is a waste of time, money, and a danger to the Security of the Free World?”
“That’s the one.”
“Changed his mind right quick when he wanted to show the PM that you boys can kick some ass, huh? Sounds like you’ll be sending Minders to Pakistan.”
Crocker opened his mouth to respond, then closed it again as a couple passed in front of the bench, holding hands. Cheng waited, tilting her head back against the seat, catching sunlight on her face as she watched the lovers kiss.
“
If
it is HUM that was behind this,” Crocker resumed. “Those eighteen months leave that open to question.”
“HUM and HUM-AA are two different groups, don’t forget that. Same origins, different agendas.”
“In which case it’s Minders to Saudi.”
Cheng chuckled. “Like that will ever happen.”
“They’ve got their knickers in a twist, it might just get authorization.”
“No, it won’t. Covert action in Saudi? You’ll never get that kind of directive, even if your masters decided it was warranted. They’d go to the MOD for SAS instead, wouldn’t they?”
Crocker grunted the concession. “Still presuming your intel is correct, that Dar was HUM-AA. Just as possible he fell in with another organization.”
“My intel is correct.”
Neither of them spoke for a time, and Crocker finished his cigarette and flicked it away much as he had the first.
“You’ll let me know if anything else crops up?” he asked.
“Hey, we’re in it with you,” Cheng replied. “There’s more than a couple of folks Stateside saying, ‘Hey, that could’ve been us.’ ”
“New York.”
“New York, San Francisco, Chicago, D.C., the list goes on and on.” She got to her feet, waiting for Crocker to follow suit. “I’ll see if we can’t find out exactly what Dar was doing in Saudi.”
“I’d appreciate it.”
She smiled, began to turn, then stopped, struck by a memory. From her coat pocket, she removed a gift-wrapped package of blue paper with a crushed pink ribbon, which she offered to Crocker.
“It was your youngest’s birthday this week, wasn’t it? Ariel?”
“She turned eleven.”
“Tell her I said happy birthday.”
“I shall.”
He took the package, waited for her to turn away. Cheng didn’t move. “You want to keep us in the loop on this, Paul.”
“That’s been my intention.”
“All the way, that’s what I’m saying.”
It took him a moment to see it. “What was the final tally?”
“Eighteen,” Cheng said, and she turned away, beginning her walk back to Grosvenor Square and the American Embassy. “Most of them were college kids.”
Crocker watched her go before slipping the gift into his pocket and making his own way out of the park, thinking of the eighteen Americans and the twenty-three French and the seven Germans and all the rest who had been murdered in the tunnels of the Underground.
•
He was back at Vauxhall Cross at eighteen past one, passing through the security first at the gate, then in the lobby, and then at the elevators, and at each point he showed his pass to the guards, then swiped it through the reader. He stopped on the fourth floor, ducking into Rayburn’s office in the hopes of finding him, and instead got D-Int’s PA, a perpetually grumpy young man named Hollister, who informed him that Director Intelligence was presenting to the JIC, and would D-Ops like to leave a message.
“Yes,” Crocker snapped. “Ask him why the CIA knows more about what Box is doing at any
“That’s a given, isn’t it? Unless the rules have suddenly changed.”
“No, the same rules still apply.”
“You sound uncharacteristically reluctant.”
He sighed out a cloud of smoke. “I don’t object to retaliatory action. I object to committing to retaliatory action with undue haste. It wasn’t three hours after the strikes that C was ready to order me to send the Minders on a bloodletting.”
“This is the same C who thinks the Special Operations Directorate is a waste of time, money, and a danger to the Security of the Free World?”
“That’s the one.”
“Changed his mind right quick when he wanted to show the PM that you boys can kick some ass, huh? Sounds like you’ll be sending Minders to Pakistan.”
Crocker opened his mouth to respond, then closed it again as a couple passed in front of the bench, holding hands. Cheng waited, tilting her head back against the seat, catching sunlight on her face as she watched the lovers kiss.
“
If
it is HUM that was behind this,” Crocker resumed. “Those eighteen months leave that open to question.”
“HUM and HUM-AA are two different groups, don’t forget that. Same origins, different agendas.”
“In which case it’s Minders to Saudi.”
Cheng chuckled. “Like that will ever happen.”
“They’ve got their knickers in a twist, it might just get authorization.”
“No, it won’t. Covert action in Saudi? You’ll never get that kind of directive, even if your masters decided it was warranted. They’d go to the MOD for SAS instead, wouldn’t they?”
Crocker grunted the concession. “Still presuming your intel is correct, that Dar was HUM-AA. Just as possible he fell in with another organization.”
“My intel is correct.”
Neither of them spoke for a time, and Crocker finished his cigarette and flicked it away much as he had the first.
“You’ll let me know if anything else crops up?” he asked.
“Hey, we’re in it with you,” Cheng replied. “There’s more than a couple of folks Stateside saying, ‘Hey, that could’ve been us.’ ”
“New York.”
“New York, San Francisco, Chicago, D.C., the list goes on and on.” She got to her feet, waiting for Crocker to follow suit. “I’ll see if we can’t find out exactly what Dar was doing in Saudi.”
“I’d appreciate it.”
She smiled, began to turn, then stopped, struck by a memory. From her coat pocket, she removed a gift-wrapped package of blue paper with a crushed pink ribbon, which she offered to Crocker.
“It was your youngest’s birthday this week, wasn’t it? Ariel?”
“She turned eleven.”
“Tell her I said happy birthday.”
“I shall.”
He took the package, waited for her to turn away. Cheng didn’t move. “You want to keep us in the loop on this, Paul.”
“That’s been my intention.”
“All the way, that’s what I’m saying.”
It took him a moment to see it. “What was the final tally?”
“Eighteen,” Cheng said, and she turned away, beginning her walk back to Grosvenor Square and the American Embassy. “Most of them were college kids.”
Crocker watched her go before slipping the gift into his pocket and making his own way out of the park, thinking of the eighteen Americans and the twenty-three French and the seven Germans and all the rest who had been murdered in the tunnels of the Underground.
•
He was back at Vauxhall Cross at eighteen past one, passing through the security first at the gate, then in the lobby, and then at the elevators, and at each point he showed his pass to the guards, then swiped it through the reader. He stopped on the fourth floor, ducking into Rayburn’s office in the hopes of finding him, and instead got D-Int’s PA, a perpetually grumpy young man named Hollister, who informed him that Director Intelligence was presenting to the JIC, and would D-Ops like to leave a message.
“Yes,” Crocker snapped. “Ask him why the CIA knows more about what Box is doing at any
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