to locate him. The other one his name is Scott is a surgeon with the Indian Health Service in Arizona “
Sam snapped, “Right. Free health care for the redskins. I’d like to see that expense lined out of the budget. Have the FBI bust the little twerp. Put him in custody as a material witness or something.”
“Too late. Young Dr. Scott McKenzie has a private pilot’s license. He disappeared out of the Three Turkeys clinic this afternoon, flew off somewhere in his Cessna. We’re running a search, but it’s a big country out there. Little dirt airstrips all over the place. He could be anywhere.”
Sam’s eyes narrowed. “Charlie got word to him? How did that happen? I thought we were tapping every phone he touches.”
“Maybe his daughter made the call. She’s been in the Israeli embassy since “
“What!?!” He was on his feet. “She’s where?” A floral paperweight shattered against the wall. “Why the fuck, just why the fuck” his trash can spilled its paper guts across a carpet of presidential blue “hasn’t anyone told me this wonderful fucking piece of news?” Was he reaching for Claude’s shirt? Why, yes, he was. And his hand was no longer a hand, it was a fist. “That motherfucking cocksucking sonofabitch, I’ll “
What will you do? he asked himself. Punch out the director of Central Intelligence? Go postal in the Executive Office Building?
Charlie fucking McKenzie. Insubordinate pricks like Charlie always drove him into…. .. pure…. .. crimson …… frenzied…
Swallow it, he ordered himself. Clench your teeth and swallow as hard as you can.
It wasn’t easy. He did it anyway. He didn’t like the way it tasted, liked even less the expression on Claude’s face. Inhaling deeply, he lifted a carafe of ice water. Claude flinched. Sam wanted to smash the pitcher in his face. Instead he poured a glass, drank, and poured another. “I, uh, shit! Sorry, Claude. My allergies. It’s my meds. I have a reaction to them. Gotta get the prescription changed.”
Claude gave him a long slow look. Sam recognized it for what it was: wary reappraisal. “You all right now?”
Sam slumped back in his seat. “Yes,” he murmured weakly, “yes, I am. I apologize for that. Really. Christ, Claude, I take a tablet and something comes over me. Who’s our point man at the FDA? I should talk to him about this stuff. It’s a public menace.” He reached into his pocket, removed a small brown bottle of harmless allergy pills, and with a flourish emptied them into an ashtray.
Claude seemed to buy the act. “Can I get you something? Should I call someone?”
“No, thank you. The last thing I need is more chemicals in my bloodstream. I’ll be fine.” Sure he would. As long as he kept it controlled, and as long as there weren’t any more nasty surprises, and as long as that cunt McKenzie…
Don’t go there, Sam. Keep the reins held tight.
He puffed up his cheeks and blew a long sigh. “Look, just forget about it, okay? Let’s get back to the problem.” Eyes firmly locked on Claude’s, Sam seemed a soft-spoken model of rationality. “McKenzie’s daughter, her name’s Carly, right? How come I haven’t been briefed that she’s hiding out with our Hebrew brethren?”
Claude still looked like a nervous man who didn’t want to provoke another explosion. “We’ve been emailing you status reports every hour.”
Sam bit his tongue. “I didn’t see it. Tell me what it said.”
Sam knew little about computers, distrusted the things, considered them beneath his dignity. His secretary, Josephine, was supposed to print out e-mails so he could dictate his replies. Today, she’d left early.
Claude, faintly amused at a superior’s weakness, answered, “Ms. McKenzie, accompanied by her two children names Molly and Jason and six pieces of luggage, entered the Israeli embassy at approximately noon today. I expect she will remain there until… well, I suppose until all this is over. We can’t
Sam snapped, “Right. Free health care for the redskins. I’d like to see that expense lined out of the budget. Have the FBI bust the little twerp. Put him in custody as a material witness or something.”
“Too late. Young Dr. Scott McKenzie has a private pilot’s license. He disappeared out of the Three Turkeys clinic this afternoon, flew off somewhere in his Cessna. We’re running a search, but it’s a big country out there. Little dirt airstrips all over the place. He could be anywhere.”
Sam’s eyes narrowed. “Charlie got word to him? How did that happen? I thought we were tapping every phone he touches.”
“Maybe his daughter made the call. She’s been in the Israeli embassy since “
“What!?!” He was on his feet. “She’s where?” A floral paperweight shattered against the wall. “Why the fuck, just why the fuck” his trash can spilled its paper guts across a carpet of presidential blue “hasn’t anyone told me this wonderful fucking piece of news?” Was he reaching for Claude’s shirt? Why, yes, he was. And his hand was no longer a hand, it was a fist. “That motherfucking cocksucking sonofabitch, I’ll “
What will you do? he asked himself. Punch out the director of Central Intelligence? Go postal in the Executive Office Building?
Charlie fucking McKenzie. Insubordinate pricks like Charlie always drove him into…. .. pure…. .. crimson …… frenzied…
Swallow it, he ordered himself. Clench your teeth and swallow as hard as you can.
It wasn’t easy. He did it anyway. He didn’t like the way it tasted, liked even less the expression on Claude’s face. Inhaling deeply, he lifted a carafe of ice water. Claude flinched. Sam wanted to smash the pitcher in his face. Instead he poured a glass, drank, and poured another. “I, uh, shit! Sorry, Claude. My allergies. It’s my meds. I have a reaction to them. Gotta get the prescription changed.”
Claude gave him a long slow look. Sam recognized it for what it was: wary reappraisal. “You all right now?”
Sam slumped back in his seat. “Yes,” he murmured weakly, “yes, I am. I apologize for that. Really. Christ, Claude, I take a tablet and something comes over me. Who’s our point man at the FDA? I should talk to him about this stuff. It’s a public menace.” He reached into his pocket, removed a small brown bottle of harmless allergy pills, and with a flourish emptied them into an ashtray.
Claude seemed to buy the act. “Can I get you something? Should I call someone?”
“No, thank you. The last thing I need is more chemicals in my bloodstream. I’ll be fine.” Sure he would. As long as he kept it controlled, and as long as there weren’t any more nasty surprises, and as long as that cunt McKenzie…
Don’t go there, Sam. Keep the reins held tight.
He puffed up his cheeks and blew a long sigh. “Look, just forget about it, okay? Let’s get back to the problem.” Eyes firmly locked on Claude’s, Sam seemed a soft-spoken model of rationality. “McKenzie’s daughter, her name’s Carly, right? How come I haven’t been briefed that she’s hiding out with our Hebrew brethren?”
Claude still looked like a nervous man who didn’t want to provoke another explosion. “We’ve been emailing you status reports every hour.”
Sam bit his tongue. “I didn’t see it. Tell me what it said.”
Sam knew little about computers, distrusted the things, considered them beneath his dignity. His secretary, Josephine, was supposed to print out e-mails so he could dictate his replies. Today, she’d left early.
Claude, faintly amused at a superior’s weakness, answered, “Ms. McKenzie, accompanied by her two children names Molly and Jason and six pieces of luggage, entered the Israeli embassy at approximately noon today. I expect she will remain there until… well, I suppose until all this is over. We can’t
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