Acts of War

SIXTY-FIVE

The Homecoming, as Southern-bred Bob Herbert had dubbed it, was as low-keyed as always.

Whenever Op-Center's officers came back from dangerous or difficult assignments, fellow staffers made sure that business went on as usual. It was a way of easing people quickly back into an efficient routine.

The first day back for Paul Hood began with a meeting in Hood's office. While flying in from London, he'd reviewed material modemed up to him by his assistant Bugs Benet. Some of it required immediate attention, and he'd E-mailed Herbert, Martha, Darrell McCaskey, and Liz Gordon to inform them about the morning meeting. Hood did not believe in easing in and out of jet lag. He believed in waking up when the alarm went off, local time, and getting to the business at hand.

Mike Rodgers was the same. Hood had phoned him at home at 6:30 a.m. to welcome him back, expecting to find the ringer off and the answering machine on. Instead, he got the wide-awake general. Hood told him about the meeting, and Rodgers arrived shortly after Herbert and McCaskey. There were handshakes, welcome backs, and one "You look like shit" from Herbert to Rodgers. Martha and Liz arrived a minute later. Rodgers took a moment to give terse thanks to Herbert and Martha for their help in getting him his pardon. Sensing his discomfort, Hood got right to the matters at hand.

"First," he said, "Liz — have you had a chance to talk to our local heroes?"

"I spoke with Lowell and Phil last night," she said. "They're taking today off but they're all right. Phil's got a pair of broken ribs, and Lowell's got a bashed-up ego and the 'I'm forty' blues, but they'll survive."

"I was looking forward to ragging on the birthday boy," Herbert said.

"Monday," the thirty-two-year-old Ph.D. replied. "I'm sure the target will be just as sensitive."

"What about Mary Rose?" Hood asked.

"I stopped by to see her last night," the psychologist said. "She's going to need some time off, but she'll be okay."

"The bastards used her pain to try and control us," Rodgers said darkly, "over and over."

"Believe it or not," Liz said, "there can be something positive in what she suffered. People who survive one incident like that tend to attribute it to fate. If they get through two or more, they start thinking that maybe they have some steel in them."

"She does," said Rodgers.

"Exactly. And if we nurture that, she's going to be able to apply it to her daily life."

"I always thought she had butt-kick potential behind those soft Irish eyes," Herbert said.

Hood thanked Liz, then looked at Herbert. "Bob," he said, "I also want to thank you for the support you gave me, Mike, and Striker. If it weren't for the timely arrival of your people over there, myself, Warner Bicking, Dr. Nasr, and Ambassador Haveles would have been coming home in boxes."

"Your Druze soldier was also exceptional," Rodgers said. "Without him, Striker wouldn't have found the ROC in time."

"Those people over there are the best," Herbert said. "I hope you'll remind Congress of that at budget time."

"Senator Fox will get a full and confidential report," Hood said. "I'll keep after her."

"While you're at it," Herbert said, "Stephen Viens is going to need our help. A Special Prosecutor is going to be appointed to look into the NRO's black budget. He feels that he's going to take the brunt of the scapegoating, and I agree. For the record, he and Matt Stoll and their teams worked through the night to get our satellites back on-line."

"I know he's a friend, Bob," Hood said, "and we'll do what we can. Mike, who's overseeing the return of the ROC?"

"I'm going to work with the Tel Nef commander and Colonel August on that," he said. "It's safe at the base right now. As soon as things finish quieting down in the region, the colonel and I will go back and get it."

"Fine," said Hood. "Then if you can spare some time today — you too, Bob — I'd like to sit down and put together a file of the money and lives Viens has saved thanks to his work at the NRO. Maybe we can even pull in the accounting department to satisfy the number-crunchers on the Hill."

Rodgers nodded.

"I'll have our bean-counters start pulling together the figures," Herbert said.

Hood turned to Martha and Darrell McCaskey, who were sitting together on the leather sofa. Darrell was his usual stoic, FBI self, but Martha was shaking a crossed leg impatiently.

"You two," he said, "will not be able to help with any of this. You're going to Spain tomorrow."

Martha perked up.

"Bugs sent me a report on the flight back from London," Hood said. "The police in Madrid have been arresting Basque nationals and picking up hints of something big about to happen. Something with serious international consequences."

McCaskey's expression didn't change, but Martha was beaming. She relished any chance to test her diplomatic skills and flex her international muscles.

"The national security chief over there has asked for diplomatic and intelligence help," Hood went on, "and you're both elected. Bugs and the State Department are putting together materials for you. They'll be ready before you leave."

"And I'll lend you my Berlitz tapes, Darrell," Herbert said.

"We'll be fine," Martha said. "I speak the language."

Hood's eyes were on Herbert, and Herbert must have felt them. He squirmed a little in his wheelchair and said nothing. Bugs had E-mailed him about the tension between the two, and Hood knew he'd have to do something about that while Martha was away. Just what, he didn't know. He had a feeling that preventing a war between Bob Herbert and Martha Mackall was going to prove a whole lot more difficult than averting war between Turkey and Syria.

The meeting was adjourned and Hood asked Rodgers to stay behind. As Bob Herbert exited and shut the door, Hood came from around his desk. He sat in an armchair across from the general.

"It was pretty rough, wasn't it?" Hood asked.

"You want to know what's funny?" Rodgers asked. "I've been through rougher. It was more than just what happened over there that got to me."

"Care to tell me about it?"

"Yes," said Rodgers, "because it has to do with my resignation."

Hood stared with open surprise as Rodgers pulled a business envelope from inside his jacket. He leaned forward stiffly and placed it on the desk. "I was working on that when you called this morning," he said. "It'll be effective as soon as you find a replacement."

"What makes you think I'll accept it?" Hood asked.

"Because I won't be any good to you here," Rodgers said. "No, scratch that. I just think I'll be more good to the country somewhere else."

"Where?" Hood demanded.

"I don't want to sound apocalyptic, Paul," Rodgers said, "but the Middle East really brought this home for me. Amercia's facing a streetwise and very dangerous enemy."

"Terrorism."

"Terrorism," he said, "and the unpreparedness it preys on. The government is bound by treaties and economical concerns. Groups like Op-Center and the CIA are spread too thin. Airlines and companies doing business abroad and armed forces stationed in foreign nations can also only do so much to protect their people. We need more human intelligence instead of electronic and satellite surveillance, and we need a more effective way of acting on it — preventatively. I spoke with Falah, the Israeli Druze who assisted us in the Bekaa. He was semi-retired from reconnaissance work and didn't realize how much he missed it. He's ready to go back into action. I'll talk to allies in other countries, to some of Bob's contacts. Paul, I believe this more strongly than I've ever believed anything. We need a streetwise and equally dangerous force to fight terrorism."

Hood looked at him intently. "I'm going to try and talk you out of doing this."

"Don't bother," Rodgers said. "I'm determined."

"I know," Hood said, "and I know how you get. What I mean is, I'm going to try and talk you out of resigning. Why not set up this unit of yours at Op-Center?"

Now it was Rodgers who seemed taken aback. It was several seconds before he could answer. "Paul, do you realize what you're saying? I'm not talking about different uses for Striker. I'm talking about a dedicated unit."

"I understand," Hood said.

"But we could never get that into an amended charter."

"Then we don't."

"How would you get the financing?"

"We can learn from some of the mistakes Stephen Viens made," Hood said. "I'll find a way to finance it through here. Ed Colahan can be trusted with that. Hell, I think he'd enjoy it. The CFO's jealous of all your cloak-and-dagger stuff. We've also learned from our mistakes in Turkey. We can review the data, figure out how to use the ROC more efficiently. Keep it in the field permanently instead of only where it's needed."

"A mobile stealth operation," Rodgers said.

"With stealth warriors," Hood said. "It's got possibilities. And you've got the passion to pull it off."

Rodgers shook his head. "What about the actions themselves? I executed a terrorist in Lebanon. It was imperium in imperio, jackboot law. I judged him and I shot him. I'm not going to sit here and tell you for certain that I wouldn't do it again. The lives of innocent Americans come first."

"I know," Hood replied. "And I won't say that I disagree."

Rodgers snickered. "Really? That isn't you, Paul. You're not even for the death penalty."

"You're right, Mike, " Hood said. "But that's the thing you learn about managing a team like ours or a city like Los Angeles or even a family. It isn't about what you're for or against. It's a question of what's best. Mike, you're going to do this anyway. I've already half got a picture in mind of you in desert patriarch robes with a staff in one hand and an Uzi in the other, hunting down terrorists. That wouldn't be the best thing for either of us. I trust you and I want to help you."

Hood reached over to the desk and removed the envelope. He held it out. Rodgers looked at it, but did not reach for it.

"Take it," Hood said.

Rodgers looked at him. "Are you sure this offer isn't about keeping an eye on me so that I don't go off and become the Moses who smiteth?"

"The way you move around," Hood said, "I couldn't watch you even if I wanted to. Actually, what this is about is how to keep Bob away from Martha. He'd love to work on a project like this."

Rodgers smiled. "I'll think about it. I've got a lot to think about. A few hours ago I wanted to drop out of this whole damned race. I had people running to my rescue, not letting me get out of the trouble I created or face the music myself."

"Which is what you've always done," Hood said.

"That's right," Rodgers said. "And proudly so." He fell quiet for a long moment as he sat staring into space. "But then this very old teammate of mine reminded me that even though you run the race alone, it doesn't mean you are alone."

"He was right," Hood said. "Didn't Benjamin Franklin have something to say about that?"

"He told the Continental Congress, 'We must indeed all hang together, or, most assuredly, we shall all hang separately.' "

"Right," Hood said. "Who are you to argue with Benjamin Franklin? Besides, didn't he and John Adams and the Sons of Liberty do something not unlike what we're talking about?" He was still holding out the envelope. "I don't want to pressure you, but my arm's getting tired and I don't want to lose you. What do you say? Do we hang together?"

Rodgers looked at the envelope. With a suddenness which surprised Hood, he snatched it back and put it in his pocket. "All right," Rodgers agreed. "Together."

"Good," Hood said. "Now let's see if we can help find a way to save our friend Viens from the vultures."

Hood called Herbert back in, and they sat down to work with a level of enthusiasm and cooperation he'd never before encountered in his group. Hood was not about to thank the PKK for that. However, as they waited for Chief Financial Officer Ed Colahan to arrive with his data, words from a different time and a different enemy flashed through Hood's mind. They were the words of Japanese Admiral Yamamoto. After having led the attack on Pearl Harbor, an attack which was supposed to crush American resistance in the Pacific, Yamamoto was moved to comment, "I fear all we have done is to awaken a steeping giant and fill him with a temple resolve."

After authorizing Rodgers to discuss his idea with Herbert, Hood could not remember a time when any of them were more awake or more resolved.