the elements and assessed
the various possible implications. This
was not just a case of an operation going wrong. It was a veritable nightmare. It was just horrendous.
She was quite
shaken. It then came to her that she was
not just receiving a background briefing.
"Tanabu- san ," said the Spider quietly,
"though the circumstances dictated it, I regret deeply that you were not
fully informed earlier. But that is in
the past. Now the situation has to be
resolved as discreetly as possible." He then told her exactly what he had in mind.
Chifune's
heart leaped when Fitzduane's name was mentioned. Then the complexities of the task ahead of
her hit home. It was probably the best
way to achieve the desired result, but it would be a very difficult operation.
"You may
take Inspector Oga with you," said the Spider in conclusion, "and
such other sources as you may need will be
provided." He indicated a thick
file on his desk. "This is the
operation file. I think you will find it
helpful."
The meeting
was at an end. Chifune stood up and
bowed respectfully.
The Spider
stood up also and returned her bow. This
was not the dismissal of an employee but an acknowledgment of a different,
stronger relationship.
"Tanabu- san ," said the Spider. "You must know that despite appearances,
I have never doubted you."
Chifune bowed
again and left. She felt drained,
exhilarated, awed, and confused. She
fought to get control of her feelings. The sight of a sensible, solid, reliable Inspector Oga was like a breath
of fresh air.
"Oga- san ," she said. "You must practice your already
excellent English."
Oga
contemplated Chifune's face. It was
slightly flushed. There was a mixture of
emotions coming from her. Her normal
reserve was missing. Whatever had been
said by the Spider was rather more than routine . He suspected it might involve the gaijin . He said nothing.
"We are
going to
America
,"
she said.
"North or
South," said Oga lightly.
Chifune's face
clouded over as the significance of the mix of Reiko Oshima and Edgar Rheiman
hit home. "Probably both," she
said grimly, and strode off down the corridor.
Oga, the smile
gone from his face, walked after her.
5
General Shane
Kilmara, commander of the Irish Rangers —
Ireland
's elite counterterrorist
and special-operations force — sipped at his brandy and smiled.
"One of
Washington
's
finer French restaurants and a
private room. And this from a man
who normally forgets to offer me a hot dog, and always
forgets the mustard. What is on your
mind, William?"
The man with
the thinning hair and high domed forehead sitting on the other side of the
table blew a smoke ring into the air. Neither man normally smoked, but good cigars were an occasional
exception. Both had a weakness for
Cuban, and Kilmara had brought a box when he had flown in from
Ireland
. Since he was received personally by Deputy
Director for Operations of the CIA, clearing customs with such embargoed goods
was not a problem.
They had known
each other since both the Irish and the CIA had been knee-deep in the
Congo
in the
1960s. The
Congo
operation was long in the past — the country had even changed its name to
Zaire
— but the
relationship had endured. Each man
considered it more an alliance than a friendship, but mutual regard had sneaked
in nonetheless. You tended to learn the
true worth of someone over a quarter of a century.
In Kilmara's
opinion, the CIA was much maligned. They
were very far from perfect and they had their fair share of self-serving
bureaucrats, but they had some very good people. Even more to the point, imperfect or not,
they were necessary.
William Martin
was not quite ready yet to get to the point. "What is the
U.S.
doing wrong on counterterrorism, Shane?" he said. "You've got more experience than
most. I'd value your opinion."
"You
already know my opinions," said
the various possible implications. This
was not just a case of an operation going wrong. It was a veritable nightmare. It was just horrendous.
She was quite
shaken. It then came to her that she was
not just receiving a background briefing.
"Tanabu- san ," said the Spider quietly,
"though the circumstances dictated it, I regret deeply that you were not
fully informed earlier. But that is in
the past. Now the situation has to be
resolved as discreetly as possible." He then told her exactly what he had in mind.
Chifune's
heart leaped when Fitzduane's name was mentioned. Then the complexities of the task ahead of
her hit home. It was probably the best
way to achieve the desired result, but it would be a very difficult operation.
"You may
take Inspector Oga with you," said the Spider in conclusion, "and
such other sources as you may need will be
provided." He indicated a thick
file on his desk. "This is the
operation file. I think you will find it
helpful."
The meeting
was at an end. Chifune stood up and
bowed respectfully.
The Spider
stood up also and returned her bow. This
was not the dismissal of an employee but an acknowledgment of a different,
stronger relationship.
"Tanabu- san ," said the Spider. "You must know that despite appearances,
I have never doubted you."
Chifune bowed
again and left. She felt drained,
exhilarated, awed, and confused. She
fought to get control of her feelings. The sight of a sensible, solid, reliable Inspector Oga was like a breath
of fresh air.
"Oga- san ," she said. "You must practice your already
excellent English."
Oga
contemplated Chifune's face. It was
slightly flushed. There was a mixture of
emotions coming from her. Her normal
reserve was missing. Whatever had been
said by the Spider was rather more than routine . He suspected it might involve the gaijin . He said nothing.
"We are
going to
America
,"
she said.
"North or
South," said Oga lightly.
Chifune's face
clouded over as the significance of the mix of Reiko Oshima and Edgar Rheiman
hit home. "Probably both," she
said grimly, and strode off down the corridor.
Oga, the smile
gone from his face, walked after her.
5
General Shane
Kilmara, commander of the Irish Rangers —
Ireland
's elite counterterrorist
and special-operations force — sipped at his brandy and smiled.
"One of
Washington
's
finer French restaurants and a
private room. And this from a man
who normally forgets to offer me a hot dog, and always
forgets the mustard. What is on your
mind, William?"
The man with
the thinning hair and high domed forehead sitting on the other side of the
table blew a smoke ring into the air. Neither man normally smoked, but good cigars were an occasional
exception. Both had a weakness for
Cuban, and Kilmara had brought a box when he had flown in from
Ireland
. Since he was received personally by Deputy
Director for Operations of the CIA, clearing customs with such embargoed goods
was not a problem.
They had known
each other since both the Irish and the CIA had been knee-deep in the
Congo
in the
1960s. The
Congo
operation was long in the past — the country had even changed its name to
Zaire
— but the
relationship had endured. Each man
considered it more an alliance than a friendship, but mutual regard had sneaked
in nonetheless. You tended to learn the
true worth of someone over a quarter of a century.
In Kilmara's
opinion, the CIA was much maligned. They
were very far from perfect and they had their fair share of self-serving
bureaucrats, but they had some very good people. Even more to the point, imperfect or not,
they were necessary.
William Martin
was not quite ready yet to get to the point. "What is the
U.S.
doing wrong on counterterrorism, Shane?" he said. "You've got more experience than
most. I'd value your opinion."
"You
already know my opinions," said