“We have a problem, Henry.”
Henry Clarke looked up from his Chateaubriand in surprise. He spoke while chewing. “Good to see you too, Marta.” Clarke gestured with his fork to his date. “Emily, meet Marta. Marta, Emily.”
The young woman smiled amiably, extending a dainty hand. “Nice to meet you.”
Marta just stared at her-cherubic cheeks and straight blond Dutch hair hanging in bangs that ended just above the eyes. “I need to borrow Henry for a moment, my dear.”
“Oh… Okay, I-”
Clarke nodded, stuffing one more piece of steak into his mouth. “Back in a sec.”
Marta led Clarke toward a private room in the back of the busy restaurant. Her eyes swept the place. “I’m shocked to find you in a place like this. An overpriced strip mall.”
“What can I say? She chose it.”
“Ah, I see. Was it near her school?”
“Ha, ha. You know, it’s very uncool to just keep showing up with little or no warning.”
Marta brought them into the private room as two suited gentlemen in her security detail closed the doors behind them. The room was empty. “The schedule has changed. There’s word of some rogue element loose out there that could corrupt the message. Before that happens, we need to be ready.”
“When, ready?”
“Like whenever I say. Tomorrow. The day after. Whenever means whenever. Can your people deliver?”
Clarke sighed deeply. “Christ, I thought you told me ‘have patience.’ What happened to patience?”
“We don’t have time for patience. The situation has changed, Henry. Serious people are on the move. So say good-night to your little friend and get your ass to the office. Be prepared to man a crisis center for the next few days.”
Clarke nodded. “Okay. All right, I’ll gather the troops.” He paused as something occurred to him. “This ‘rogue element’-they don’t think we’re actually behind the… ‘troubles,’ I hope?”
“Even if they did think so, it will shortly be moot. Let the serious people deal with that. Ours is a struggle for messaging supremacy, and we need to win.”
“About them thinking we’re behind this… was that a yes or a no?”