196
BIO-STRIKE
should take his temperature. If Ashley were home, would insist on it. But a fever would mean he’d bly have to can his visit to Julia’s, and he had ked forward to seeing her and making progress on ; dog pen. Besides, Ash would be meeting him there t her purchase-laden suitcases, each doubtless weigh; a ton. She was counting on him to help load them the trunk of the car and drive her home. All he
was to be sick and useless to everyone, j Gordian made up his mind to take his temperature if i condition didn’t improve by morning. Well, later in i morning, he thought, remembering the hour.
fact, he’d slowly begun to feel better on his return ibed. The chills abated, and he found that his muscle nps were likewise easing. Maybe he’d caught some of twenty-four-hour bug, and it had peaked over- lit. Or maybe the aspirin had done the trick.
around three-thirty, Gordian again fell asleep and I not reawaken until the alarm buzzed four hours later, iinday came on warm and radiantly clear. With his turned into the golden sunlight flooding his bed- window, Gordian started to think he might not 1 that thermometer after all. His lower back was still ling, and his throat hurt a little when he swallowed, : there were no signs of feverishness or nausea, got up, went into the kitchen to fill the coffee- then decided tea might be a smarter pick. He ied it to his screened-in veranda and sat looking out i1 Ashley’s hillside arbor gardens, sipping from his cup, rose-scented breeze wafting over him. Perfect tier for working outdoors. He’d finish the tea and see how he was doing before reaching a conclusion at whether to go on with his plans.
197
Tom Clancy’s Power Plays
By eight, Gordian felt considerably recuperated from whatever had hit him the previous night. No sense treating himself as nonfunctional. He would push forward on the corral, take it slow and easy, maybe get a bit less of it done than he might like. He’d always believed moderate physical exertion was a better remedy for a cold than lying around the house. Better for him, at any rate.
Gordian went back into the kitchen and rinsed his cup and saucer in the sink, thinking he should have a bite to eat before leaving for Pescadero. Food didn’t tempt him, though. As he turned toward the bathroom for another quick hop under the showerhead, he heard an inner voice argue that skipping breakfast was far from advisable for a person who’d been as sick as he was a few hours ago, and who was looking ahead to a long, active day. But he was sure he’d regain his appetite once he reached Julia’s. He could fix himself some toast, an English muffin, risk incurring her wrath and sneak a morsel or two to Jack and Jill. Like old times.
What he wanted right now was to wash up and hurry into his clothes. He was anxious to get moving with things, and the worst of his illness really did seem to be behind him.
“Megan, I’m wondering if it’s appropriate for us to discuss a matter of Bureau policy under these circumstances.”
“Is my nearness bothering you? Because I can slide over the other way. No offense taken.”
“It isn’t how close you are per se-”
“Then what is it you find questionable? That we’re in a hot tub together? The whole idea of conducting business exclusively in sterile office settings is fossilized,
198
BIO-STRIKE
and that isn’t just my opinion. There are a million and one studies that show-empirically prove-relaxed and p:stimulating environments are the places to confer-”
“Come on, help me out here-”
“I’m trying, Bob. What do you think Bohemian Grove (is about except the intersection of government and pri|wate af-?”
“Forget Bohemian Grove. We’re both naked, or ftoaven’t you noticed? And I won’t get into the subject |pof our intersecting the past couple of days.”
That brought a smile to Megan’s face.
“Get into it all you want,” she said.
Her emerald eyes met his gray ones.
Lang looked back at her in speechless silence.
They were sitting shoulder-to-shoulder on the curved ench of the hot tub, neck deep in 180-degree water, |steam rising into the 45-degree Shenandoah Valley air iaround them in vaporous ribbons and curlicues. Over land beyond the lattice rail screening their room’s rear |deck, the redwood hot tub upon the deck, and their nude, soaking bodies in the tub from the eyes of their hosts j;and fellow weekenders at the Virginia B and B, over fand beyond on the forested Allegheny mountainsides ^across the valley, the hardwoods in autumn foliage were i^vatercolor dashes of cinnamon brown against the pweeping dark green brush strokes of the predominant fpine cover.
“Bob?”
“Yes?”
“You seem to have blanked out.”
Lang sighed.
“My problem,” he said, and then paused. “That is, what I believe may be unseemly is that you are making
199
Tom Clancy’s Power Plays
a substantial professional request of me while we’re very busily engaged in an extraprofessional relationship. Asking that, in my capacity as Washington Bureau chief, I seek to waive or broaden existing security classifications to give UpLink International access to privileged investigative files.”
She shrugged. “We were entirely clothed when I made the request. Neither of us had yet seen the other unclothed at the time. Truthfully, I hadn’t begun to entertain the notion that we would, though the fantasy did arise one dark and lonely night.”
He shook his head in consternation.
“Be straight,” he said. “You can see how there might be at least an appearance of impropriety.”
“Sure I can,” she said. “But do you believe I’ve been sleeping with you to cloud your objectivity, compromise your integrity, entice you to violate national security, whichever perception concerns you-?”
“That’s ridiculous-”
“And do you think I’d stop sleeping with you as a consequence of your denying us access, if that proves to be your determination?”
“No, of course not-”
“So why don’t you help me get things straight,” she said. “Give me a rational explanation why the farther along we’ve come in our friendship, the farther away you’ve tilted from opening the databases. Since I know who I am, and you seem to know who you are, I can’t see either one of us violating our principles for a tumble in the sack.”
“Or a splash in the tub, I suppose,” Lang said. “I don’t know. Maybe I don’t have a clear and sensible answer for you. But I’ve always kept my personal life separate
200
BIO-STRIKE
Bftom my responsibilities to the Bureau. Mixing them is isomething new to me. It throws the formula out of ife whack.”
“Would you rather limit your mating prospects to women you meet in bars and nightclubs?”
He looked at her.
“I think you’re being a little unfair.”
Megan was shaking her head now, her face dead se- grious.
“What isn’t fair is putting boundaries on what we’ve igot going because you’re jittery about messing with | some artificial formula,” she said. ‘The workplace is where adults meet. Where they get to know one other, .sans hackneyed pickup lines. I don’t see anything wrong ; with that. Or how our having grown close suddenly makes us Mata Hari and Benedict Arnold.”
He was quiet. They sat there alongside each other, ^Steam billowing around them into the chill air, shim- jinering in the sunlight.
Megan craned her head back, looking up into the open psky.
“One last time,” she said after a moment, still staring i upward. “My feelings for you aren’t predicated on !%hether UpLink obtains the clearances. But I’ve got my ffjob obligations, too. Gord isn’t about to take no for an toswer, and he’s got heavyweight contacts from the president on down. I’d prefer we not have to make an K”nd run around you. And I hope that if we must, you’ll : Understand and won’t let it pull us apart.” Her voice ^caught. “That would be a waste. And make me sadder ; than I can begin to express.”
Silence.
201
Tom Clancy’s Power Plays
Lang gazed out at the brown-andgreen-splashed mountains in the distance.
“Tell Gordian he’ll have my decision by the end of the week,” he said.
Megan nodded without looking down.
He turned to her, studied her upturned face for several seconds.
“It must be hard sometimes being a woman and strong,” he said.
Her eyes lowered. Met his again.
“Sometimes,” she said.
He leaned close and touched his lips to her shoulder. Brushed them along her neck, the line of her chin, the soft flesh below her ear, caressing her face, stroking back her hair with his fingertips, leaving behind traces of white gooseflesh.
“I’m not going anywhere,” he whispered and slid his arm around the bareness of her waist to draw her closer, kissing her on the cheek, on the corner of the mouth. “I’m in for whatever happens.”