Point of Contact

11

Hendley poured himself a coffee, but the prune Danishes were already gone, so he grudgingly reached for a blueberry muffin. Jack snagged a granola bar and a bag of Jocko White Tea, his new favorite caffeinated beverage. Hendley led him to a table in the far corner, away from the other patrons. Free breakfast and lunch was one of the perks of working at Hendley Associates. So were eighty-hour weeks. It was a competitive industry and there was always a market open somewhere around the globe. Eating in meant less time away from the building. Adding a cafeteria had been a costly but necessary expense for the firm.

“Ding and John gave me a detailed brief of the rescue mission yesterday,” Hendley said. “You and the team did excellent work. I never got the chance to tell you that in person.”

“John told us to take some time off. I was sound asleep when you called this morning.”

Hendley flashed a conspiratorial grin. “Late night, eh?”

“Started a new Churchill biography I just bought, and binge-watched the whole first season of Stranger Things.”

“Such a misspent youth,” Hendley joked. “But seriously, you doing okay? That was a hairy op you all pulled off.”

“Yeah, fine. Still processing a few things. Looking forward to the next one.”

“That rescue mission was kind of a fluke. I feel badly about it, to tell you the truth. Things could’ve gone sideways.”

“It was lucky we were training for exactly that kind of mission. It paid off.”

“I know. But if you guys hadn’t already been in the area you wouldn’t have received the call. John and I talked about it yesterday. We’re going to try and avoid that kind of thing in the future. Too many variables and too many unknowns on a mission thrown together like that.”

“If we hadn’t gone in, the rest of the hostages would’ve been killed. It was worth the risk.”

“Now that we know the outcome, I agree. But we could have lost both your team and the hostages, given the circumstances. If anything had happened to you or any of the others, I just don’t know what I would have told your father.”

“You would have told him we did our best. That’s all he’d want to hear.”

“You’re right about that.” But Hendley’s mood suddenly darkened. He still hadn’t gotten over the deaths of Brian Caruso, Dom’s brother, or Sam Driscoll. The Campus lost two good men when they lost the two of them in the last few years. The business they were in was risky, no question, and all of the members of The Campus were willing to take that risk on behalf of the country. But Hendley felt the responsibility to make sure that every effort was taken to mitigate those risks as much as possible. Advanced planning and intelligence were key in that effort, but the rescue mission had largely forsaken both because of the time factor.

“Tell me about this thing with Rhodes. What’s really going on?” Jack asked.

“You know as much as I do. He called me late last night and made his pitch. He and I go back a long way. It sounds like an easy gig for the two of you, and you’re going to love Singapore.”

“It’s just that I haven’t done any white-side work for a while.”

“All the more reason I want you to take this job. Your analytical work for Hendley Associates provides you with fantastic cover and you need to keep those skills up.”

“I like The Campus work better.”

“I bet you do. Firing a machine gun must be a little more exciting than reading 10-K reports or all of those other SEC filings. But remember, son, the analytical work is still part of your job description.” He took another sip of coffee.

Jack frowned. It wasn’t like Gerry to pull rank. “What’s this really all about?”

“I’m sorry?”

“I get the feeling you want me in Singapore for some reason you’re not telling me about.”

Jack wondered if he was being reassigned permanently. It had all been laughed off by now, but last year Gerry was none too happy about getting machine-gunned by Jack with Simunitions belowdecks on a yacht anchored off Carpenter Point. Jack had pulled the trigger too quickly on that mission. On the North Sea rig, he hadn’t pulled it soon enough.

Hendley sat upright. “Frankly, you’re one of my best analysts and I really need you to do this assignment for Rhodes. It’s that simple. You know him as well as I do. He isn’t just connected to Marin Aerospace. He has ties all over town. If we do a good turn for him on such short notice he won’t forget, and that will lead to a lot more work, boring as it can sometimes be. But it’s that boring work that keeps The Campus fully funded and operational.”

Jack examined Gerry’s determined eyes. He was a friend and a mentor even more than he was a boss. He could read between the lines. “And?”

Hendley held Jack’s gaze for a moment, then his face broke into a smile. “Well, there is one more thing.”

Jack smiled, too, trying not to gloat. It wasn’t often anybody called Gerry Hendley’s bluff. “Yes?”

The former senator laid a fatherly hand on Jack’s muscled forearm. “I just like the idea of you being in Singapore. It’s probably the safest city in the world — certainly the cleanest. This will be like a paid vacation. Give you a chance to rest up, see a part of the world you haven’t seen before.”

“I knew it. You’re worried about me.”

“Worried? Why would I be worried?”

“Did Ding say something to you?”

“Yes, as a matter of fact. He said you did a good job on that rig, and that anybody could’ve made the mistake you did.”

“And that’s all?”

“Anything else you think I should know?”

Jack knew that the senator’s Southern charm hid a ruthless instinct for weakness and a fishmonger’s skill for hard bargains. He needed to tread carefully.

“We’re supposed to start the new training module in Colorado next week. I can’t miss it.”

“John assures me that you’re not missing anything significant, and he’ll brief you when you get back.”

“I don’t want to let the team down. If I’m in Singapore and they get the call, I can’t be there for them.” Jack took a sip of coffee. “Or is that the point?”

“Look, you’re reading way more into this thing than you need to. It’s a job and I need you to do it. That’s all. If I wanted you off The Campus, you’d be off, right?”

“Yeah, for sure.” Having once lost his place on the team before winning it back, Jack worried he could lose it again. He hoped this white-side assignment wasn’t the first gentle shove out the Campus door.

Hendley tore off another piece of his blueberry muffin. “I understand that an analytical assignment in Singapore isn’t a shoot-’em-up. I can only imagine the adrenaline rush that kind of thing must be.”

“It’s not just that. It’s about playing my part on the team.”

“Which team? You work for Hendley Associates and The Campus. We’re all one big team. You have different roles to play on both sides of the company because you have more than one talent. Not everyone in The Campus can do what you do.”

“Thanks.”

“But there’s a bigger picture here I don’t think you’re seeing. Do you know the old proverb ‘For want of a nail’?”

Jack remembered it vaguely. He recited it once while at St. Matthew’s Academy. “‘For want of a nail the shoe was lost, for want of a shoe the horse was lost, and for want of a horse the rider was lost.’”

Hendley held up a finger. “Ah! And for want of the rider, the battle was lost, and then the kingdom was lost. Sometimes you get to swing the sword in battle, but sometimes you’re just mucking the stalls — God knows I did enough of that back on the farm. But they’re all important parts to play, and we must each play them. Jack, I need you to play this part for Rhodes.”

Jack felt Hendley was still hiding something. He didn’t want to let Hendley down, but he didn’t want to let the operators of The Campus down, either. He was torn.

“Jack, you know you’ve earned everyone’s respect around here, especially The Campus. You always show up to do the job, no matter what is asked of you. I’m asking you to see that this is your job, too.”

Hendley stood, scraping his chair against the tiled floor. “Take an hour and think about it and let me know your decision.”

“I don’t need the hour, Gerry. Of course I’ll do it.”

Hendley smiled broadly. “Great. Trust me, it’ll be more fun than you know. And it’s a good chance for you to get to know Paul. He can be a hard egg to crack, but he’s a good man.”

More like a soft-boiled egg, Jack thought. But Gerry Hendley didn’t make suggestions lightly.

Hendley turned around and caught someone’s eye across the room. In a moment he was over at another table, joking and glad-handing like he was running for county commissioner.

Jack got a sinking feeling. He would rather jump out of an airplane than spend it sitting next to a man whose idea of a good time most likely was watching subtitled reruns of Gunsmoke on the hotel cable channel. He didn’t exactly relish the idea of spending the next ten days in a city so uptight it outlawed chewing gum, either.

But like his dad used to say, at least he wasn’t shoveling shit in Louisiana.