Op-Center

CHAPTER TWENTY-EIGHT

Paul Hood's telephone rang. That didn't happen very often. Most of his communications came through E-mail, or through the special phone lines in his terminal.

It was especially odd because his intercom hadn't alerted him to the incoming call. Which meant it was someone with the clout to bypass Op-Center's main switchboard.

He picked up. "Hello?"

"Paul, it's Michael Lawrence."

"Yes, sir. How are you, sir?"

"Paul, I understand your boy went into the hospital this morning."

"Yes, sir."

"How's he doing?"

Paul frowned. There were times to give the President good news, and times to give him the truth. This was one of the latter. "Not well, sir. They're not sure what's wrong, and he's not responding to treatments."

"I'm sorry to hear that," the President said. "But, Paul, I need to know, how much of a distraction will this be?"

"Sir?"

"I need you, Paul. I need you on top of this Korean situation. I need you focused and in control of things. Or I need someone else in charge. It's your call, Paul. Do you want me to hand this off to someone else?"

It was funny. Paul had been thinking that very thing not five minutes before, but now, hearing the President ask him flat out, there was no longer any doubt in his mind. "No, sir," he said. "I'm on top of it."

"Good man. And, Paul?"

"Yes, sir?"

"Let me know how your boy does."

"I will, sir. Thank you."

Hanging up the phone, Paul thought for a moment, then pressed the F6 key to talk to Bugs Benet. "Bugs," he said, "when you get a chance, call up one of our resident technoweenies. I need a new code sequence for Mortal Kombat, something that'll really knock Alexander's socks off when he gets home from the hospital."

"You got it," Bugs said.

Paul smiled, nodded, and then pulled up the next document in the queue and got back to work.