Call to Treason by Tom Clancy, Steve Pieczenik, Jeff Rovin Page A

to work with a legal trainee. Frankie Hunt did not fit that profile. Kevin Custer in Electronic Communications said he would take on someone with interest in the field. Otherwise, it was a waste of everyone's time. Other division leaders said more or less the same thing. Hood could have pushed them, but he did not. As he made the calls, he had already decided he did not want the kid working at Op-Center. Someone who helped a friend was "a nice man." Someone who helped his former wife was "a man with guilt." Someone who helped the lover of their former wife was not a man at all.
        Working behind the scenes at Op-Center instead of in the light at Los Angeles City Hall had tempered Hood's healthy but modest narcissism somewhat. But it had not quite turned him into a masochist. Sharon, on the other hand, was mossy with fresh self-interest and vanity. She felt her former husband owed her time, effort, and attention, and she was determined to collect.
        Hood would wait a few hours before calling Sharon. That would make it seem as if he had made more of an effort than he had. At least he did not have a lot of time to think about it. Hood had spent a lot of time with CFO Ed Colahan working on the budget cuts. There was not a division of Op-Center that would be unaffected. Matt Stoll's computer division would lose six of its twelve employees, Herbert would lose one of his six intel analysts, and the field force Mike Rodgers had assembled would be eliminated. Operatives like David Battat and Aideen Marley would be recruited on a case-by-case basis. Lowell's four-person legal office would be cut to three. Custer would have to release one of his four electronics surveillance people. The night staff would also be reduced. Each time Hood okayed a cut, he knew he was not only affecting an employee but national security. Op-Center had established a singular way of working. Homeland Security could not simply reassign those tasks to the FBI or CIA; Hood and his people had the trust of agents at Interpol, at the Russian Op-Center, at other agencies around the world. Time, personnel, and funds were required to maintain the quid pro quo nature of those valuable relationships. The cuts were going to impact that severely.
        Darrell McCaskey walked in just as Colahan was leaving with his laptop.
        "How are you holding up, Paul?" McCaskey asked. He shut the door behind him as the CFO left.
        "When I was mayor, I had to cut billions from the Los Angeles city budget," Hood said. "That was politically painful but faceless. Each stroke of a key today was someone I know." Hood sat back. McCaskey looked preoccupied. "You heard about Mike Rodgers?"
        "Yeah. Bob was so mad he nearly ran me over."
        "I haven't heard from him yet," Hood said.
        "He's laying low till he cools off," McCaskey said. "He should be in to see you some time next week."
        Hood smiled. "What can I do for you?"
        "Ironically, you're going to need to loan me out for a couple of days."
        "What's up?"
        "I think William Wilson was murdered."
        Hood's smile evaporated. "Jesus."
        "Yeah. This is going to be a big one."
        "How did you get involved?"
        "Scotland Yard asked me to bird-dog the autopsy," McCaskey said. "I went to the Georgetown medical center and had a look at the body. The ME missed an injection in the root of the tongue. We sent a skin sample to the lab. There was a concentrated trace of potassium chloride, a drug that can be used to stop the heart."
        "That's damned impressive, Darrell."
        "Thanks."
        "Have you informed the Yard?" Hood asked.
        "I did," McCaskey said. "They're going to work through the British embassy to get their own people involved. Until then, they asked if I would be their point man on the investigation."
        "What are we looking at, time-wise?"
        "Three or four days," McCaskey told him.
        "That's when