Severe Clear

14

Mike Freeman picked up his phone at the L.A. offices of Strategic Services. “Yes?”

“Mike, it’s Scott Hipp.”

“Hello, Scott, how’s life?”

“Interesting,” Hipp replied.

“Uh-oh.”

Hipp laughed. “You have a point: when it’s interesting here, it’s often hairy elsewhere.”

“That has been my experience,” Mike replied. “What is it this time? Any more mentions of The Arrington in your traffic?”

“No, but… You still have a scrambler on that phone?”

The scrambler was one manufactured by the electronics division of Strategic Services, and Hipp had been given one. Mike pressed a button. “Go,” he said.

“My people picked up an e-mail sent from a cell phone in California to a Middle Eastern website we keep a watch on. It read: ‘All is well. I am fine.’”

“Did you run it through decoding?”

“Yes, and it appears to have been sent in the clear.”

“Sounds like someone has completed a task,” Mike said.

“Right. It was signed ‘Nod.’”

“As in land of Nod?”

“Correct. We’re running references on that now.”

“So the only connection to The Arrington is that it came from California?”

“So far. That and the fact that it was transmitted via a cell tower at the top of Stone Canyon, in L.A.”

“I know the one-it would cover The Arrington’s location.”

“Yes, but because of the tower’s elevation, it would cover a big chunk of Beverly Hills and the San Fernando Valley, as well.”

“You have a point.”

“A rather blunt point, I’m afraid.”

“Right now, that’s the way I like it,” Mike said. “If it were any sharper, I’d be worried.”

“Are you worried enough for me to pass this on to the Secret Service?”

“If it were my call, no,” Mike said. “But that’s your call.”

“I think I’ll hold off until I have more, if we should actually get more, which I doubt.”

“I think that’s wise.”

There was a brief silence, then Hipp said, “You know Holly Barker, don’t you?”

“Sure,” Mike said. “I sold our air transport company to the Agency a few years back, and Holly ran it for a few months, until they could hire somebody who could get through the vetting.”

“Well, Holly got promoted to assistant director at the Agency.”

“Assistant director? I didn’t know they had those. I thought it was deputy director.”

“That’s the way it was, until Holly got the title. She’s replacing Greg Whatshisname, who was assistant to the Director. Greg got shipped off to Rome, and Stewart Graves, who was ADDI, was packed off to London.”

“Sounds like a shake-up,” Mike said.

“Sounds to me like Kate is paving the way for Lance Cabot to replace her when she goes.”

“That’s interesting, if she can pull it off,” Mike said. “But for that to happen, the Democrat would have to get elected to replace Will Lee, and it would have to be a Democrat whose ear Kate has.”

“I think our beloved veep, Stanton, has the inside track for the nomination, don’t you?”

“Well, yes, because he’s veep. There’ll be some competition, though.”

“Lance has done some major cultivation in the garden of the Senate Select Committee on Intelligence,” Hipp said. “Lance might get it, even if a Republican is elected.”

“Well, if anybody could work both sides of the street, it’s Lance. I wouldn’t be upset if he got it.”

“Neither would I,” Hipp said. “I can’t say I’m fond of Lance, but I don’t hate him, and that’s something.”

“I’m fond of him on some days, and I hate him on others,” Mike said. “But I’m fond of Holly all the time.”

“I don’t know her all that well, but I hear good things.”

“She’s gotten some of the credit for the way Lance has smoothed out operations.”

“You think that if Lance gets the job, he might pick her to replace him at ops?”

“Nobody’s closer to Lance than Holly.”

“Well, we’ll see what we shall see, won’t we? Gotta run.”

“See you, Scott. Keep me in the loop, will you?”

“Sure.” Hipp hung up.

Mike switched off his scrambler and called Stone Barrington.

“Hey, Mike.”

“Just got some news, Stone: shake-up at the Agency. Stewart Graves and Greg Barton are out.”

“I know the names, but not the people,” Stone replied.

“The big news is that Holly is replacing Barton in Kate’s office, with the title of assistant director.”

Stone made a whistling sound. “Big jump!”

“I read the changes as Kate’s paving the way for Lance.”

“I’m sure Lance would like nothing better.”

“And if he gets it, Holly could be the next DDO.”

“You know,” Stone said, “if Holly ever leaves the Agency, you should pounce on her.”

“I’ve thought that ever since I saw the way she ran the air transport company. She made me wish we still owned it.”

“Well, if Lance doesn’t get Kate’s job, Holly will be at a dead end at the Agency. That’s when you should go after her.”

“That’s good advice.”

“She still has a New York apartment from when she did that thing for Lance here a few years back.”

“I didn’t know that.”

“Nice place, on Park.”

“No relocation costs!” Mike laughed.

“Where are you?” Stone asked.

“In L.A. I had dinner last night with Rifkin, the Secret Service detail honcho.”

“Any news from him?”

“If he had any news, he wouldn’t share it. They’re like that.”

Mike told him about the cell call from L.A. to the watch-listed website. “That’s why I’m not telling him about that, or anything else. They’ve already doubled their efforts at The Arrington, and that’s all I want from them. At the moment.”

“Does this cell call from California worry you?”

“Not at the moment. Time will tell.”

“Thanks for the news about Holly. I’ll drop her a note-she’ll be impressed that I know.”

“You do that, and congratulate her for me.”

Stone hung up, called Dino, and told him the news.