Tom Clancy – Op Center 6 State Of Siege

“I’m Not.” “May I Ask Why?” Coffey Asked Indignantly. Herbert Sighed. “Yeah. In The Cia, We Used To Call It Respect.” Coffey Made A Face.

“If A Superior Wanted To Bend The Rules, You Bent Them,” Herbert Went On. “All You Could Do Was Try Not To Bend “Em So Far That They Came Around And Bit You In The Ass.” Coffey Sat Back. “I Expect That From The Cosa Nostra, Not The Lawful Government Of The United States,” He Said Unhappily. “If We Were All So Damn Virtuous, Lawful Government Wouldn’t Be Necessary,” Herbert Said.

Rodgers Looked At Liz. She Was Not Happy Either. “Well?” Rodgers Said.

“Well What?” Liz Said. “I’m Not A Brick In Bob’s Wall Of Silence, But I’m Not Going To Stop You. Right Now, You’re Being Headstrong, Impatient, And You’re Probably Acting Out, Looking To Hit Someone Hard For What Your Captors Did In The Bekaa Valley. But Unfit? From A Psychological Standpoint, Not A Legal One, I Can’t Say You’re Unfit.” Rodgers Looked Back At Herbert. “Bob, Will You Try To Get Me Into The Cia Shell?” Herbert Nodded.

Rodgers Looked At Coffey. “Lowell, Will You Go To The Cioc? See If They’ll Call An Emergency Meeting?” Coffey’s Thin Mouth Was.

Tight, And His Polished Fingernails Were Tapping The Table.

But Above All, The Attorney Was A Professional.

He Hooked Back His Sleeve And Looked At His Watch.

“I’ll Call Senator Warren On His Mobile Phone,” Coffey Said. “He’s Our Most Sympathetic Ear Over There. But Those People Are Tough Enough To Reach On A Weekday. On A Weekend, At Night-Was “I Understand,” Rodgers Said.

“Thanks. You, Too, Bob.” “Sure Thing,” Herbert Replied.

Coffey Was Already Looking Up The Phone Number On His Electronic Pocket Directory As Rodgers Looked Over At Matt Stoll And Ann Farris.

The Technical Genius Was Staring Intently At His Folded Hands, And The Press Liaison Was Quiet, Her Expression Noncommittal. He Thought He Might Get Her Approval Since He Was Trying To Help Paul Hood, But He Wasn’t Going To Ask. He Turned Toward The Door.

“Mike?” Herbert Said.

Rodgers Looked Back At Him. “Yes?” “Whatever You Need, You Know You’ve Got Our Support Back Here,” Herbert Said.

“I Know.” “Just Try Not To Destroy The Secretariat Building, Okay?” Herbert Said. “And One More Thing.” “What’s That?” Rodgers Asked. “I Don’t Want To Find Myself Running This Goddamned Place,” Herbert Said With The Hint Of A Smile. “So Make Sure You Get Your Headstrong, Impatient, Acting-Out Self Back Here.” “I’ll Try,” Rodgers Said, Smiling Slightly Himself As He Opened The Door.

It Wasn’t Exactly The Endorsement Rodgers Had Hoped For But, As He Hurried Through The Cubicles Toward The Elevator, At Least He Didn’t Feel Like Gary Cooper In High Noon-Alone. And Right Now, That Was Something.

New York, New York Saturday, 10:11 R.M The Short-Lived But Legendary Office Of Strategic Services Was Formed In June Of 1942. Under The Leadership Of World War I Hero William Joseph “Wild Bill” Donovan, The Oss Was Responsible For Collecting Military Intelligence. After The War, In 1946, President Truman Established The Central Intelligence Group, Which Was Chartered To Gather Foreign Intelligence Pertaining To National Security. A Year Later, The National Security Act Renamed The Cig The Central Intelligence Agency. The Act Also Broadened The Scope Of The Cia Charter To Allow It To Conduct Counterintelligence Activities.

Thirty-Two-Year-Old Annabelle “Ani” Hampton Had Always Enjoyed Being A Spy. There Were So Many Mental And Emotional Levels To It, So Many Sensations. There Was Danger And There Was Reward Proportionate To The Danger. There Was A Sense Of Being Invisible Or, If You Were Caught, Of Being More Naked Than Naked. There Was A Feeling Of Having Power Over Others, Of Risking Punishment And Oath. There Was Also A Great Deal Of Planning Involved, Of Positioning Yourself Just So, Of Patience, Of Catching Someone In The Right Frame Of Mind, Of Seducing Emotionally And Sometimes Physically.

It Was, In Fact, A Lot Like Sex Only Better, She Thought. In Spying, If You Grew Tired Of Someone You Could Have Them Killed. Not That She Ever Had. Not Yet, Anyway.

Ani Had Enjoyed Being A Spy Because She’d Always Been A Loner. Other Children Had No Curiosity. She Did.

As A Child, She Liked To Find Out Where Squirrels Made Their Homes Or Watch Birds As They Laid Their Eggs Or, Depending On Her Mood, Help Wild Rabbits Escape From Red Foxes Or Help Red Foxes Snare The Hares. She Liked To Eavesdrop On Her Father’s Pinochle Games Or On Her Grandmother’s Teas Or On Her Older Brother’s Dates. She Even Made A Journal Of The News She Picked Up While Spying On Her Family. Which Neighbor Was “A Prick.” Which Aunt Was “A Bitch On Wheels.” Which Mother-In-Law “Should Learn To Keep Her Mouth Shut.” Ani’s Mother Once Found The Journal And Took It Away, But That Was All Right. Ani Had Been Smart Enough To Keep A Duplicate Book.

Ani’s Parents, Also And Ginny, Had Owned A Women’s Clothing Store In Roanoke, Virginia.

Ani Used To Work At Hampton’s Fashions After School And On Weekends. Whenever Possible, She Would Study Everything About The People Who Came In To Browse. She Attempted To Hear What They Were Saying, Tried To Guess What They Were Going To Look At Based On How They Were Dressed Or How Well They Spoke. And Then She Moved In To Make The Sale. If She’d Been Careful And Smart, She Got It. Usually, She Was.

The Spying Ended When Her Parents’s Store Went Bankrupt, Driven Out Of Business By Larger Discount Chains. Her Parents Were Forced To Go To Work For One Of Those Chains. But Ani’s Fascination With Understanding And Then Carefully Manipulating People Did Not Die. She Won A Full Scholarship To Georgetown University In Washington. She Majored In Political Science And Minored In Asian Affairs Since, At The Time, It Looked Like Japan And The Pacific Rim Were Going To Be The Hot Spots Of The Twenty-First Century. Though Her Parents” Own Hopes Had Died, Ani Never Saw Them Prouder Than When She Graduated From College Summa Cum Laude. That Was When She Set Herself A Goal To Make Them Prouder Still. Ani Resolved That She Would Not Only Become A Cia Agent, But Before She Was Forty Years Old, She Would Be Running The Agency.

Upon Graduating, The Slender, Five-Foot-Ten-Inch-Tall Blonde Applied To The Cia. She Was Hired-Partly Because Of Her Exemplary Academic Record And Partly, She Later Learned, Because Equal Opportunity Guidelines Found The Notoriously Chauvinistic Agency Short On Women.

The Reasons Didn’t Matter Then. Ani Was In.

Officially, She Served As A Visa Consultant In A Succession Of U.S. Embassies In Asia.

Unofficially, She Used Her Downtime To Develop Contacts In The Government And Military. Dissatisfied Officials And Officers. Men And Women Who Were Hurt By The Asian Financial Collapse Of The Mid-1990’S. People Who Might Be Persuaded To Provide Information For Money.

Ani Was Singularly Effective As A Cia Recruiter. Ironically, She Found That Her Greatest Asset Was Not Her Knowledge Of Asian Culture Or Government. It Wasn’t Even The Fact That She’d Seen Her Parents Lose Their Slice Of The American Dream And Knew How To Talk To People Who Felt Disconnected. Her Greatest Asset Was Her Ability To Remain Emotionally Uninvolved With Her Recruits.

There Had Been Times When It Was Necessary To Sacrifice People For Information, And She Had Not Hesitated To Do So. She Understood From School, From Life, From Reading History, That People Were The Coin Of Governments And Armies And That You Couldn’t Be Afraid To Spend Them. In A Way, It Was No Different From Telling Women They’d Looked Good In Coats Or Slacks Or Blouses When She Knew They Didn’t. The Store Needed Their Money, And She Was Determined To Get It.

Unfortunately, Ani Found That Talent And Drive Weren’t Enough. When She Accomplished What She’d Been Sent Abroad To Do, The Young Woman Wasn’t Given A Promotion Or Higher Security Clearance. Now The Antifemale Bias Mattered: The Good Jobs Went To Her Male Colleagues. Ani Was Sent To Seoul To Collect Data Submitted By The Contacts She’d Established. Most Of It Was Transmitted Electronically, And She Was Not Even Involved In Interpreting What Came In. That Was Done By Elint Teams Back At Company Headquarters. After Six Months Of Sitting At A Computer, Working As An Intel Shuffler, She Asked To Be Transferred To Washington.

Instead, She Was Transferred To New York. As An Intel Shuffler. Because Of Her Overseas Experience, Ani Had Been Sent To Work At The Doyle Shipping Agency. The Cia Front Operated From The Shell Office On The Fourth Floor Of 866 United Nations Plaza. Their Mission Was To Spy On Key United Nations Officials. The Dsa Consisted Of A Small Reception Area With A Secretary-Who Was Off Today, Since It Was Saturday-An Office For Field Office Director David Battat, And Another Office For Ani. There Was Also A Small Office For The Two Floaters Who Were Shared By This Office And Another In The Financial District. The Floaters Trailed Diplomats Who Were Suspected Of Trying To Meet With Spies Or Prospective Spies In This Country. The Office Also Stocked Arms, From Guns To C-4, Which Could Be Used By The Floaters Or Carried To Agents Abroad In Diplomatic Pouches. Ani’s Small, East River-View Office Was Really The Heart Of The Operation. It Was Filled With Fake Dsa Files, Books Of Shipping Schedules And Tax Regulations, Along With A Computer Linked To High-Tech Equipment Locked In A Broom Closet At The End Of The Small Corridor.

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