“I told him that he had misused funds because part of the allocation was to be a direct cash transfer, after Baghdad initialed the agreement, to Soo Empire Grain in exchange for eight hundred thousand tons of soybeans. Mr. Hussein bought coffee from Brazil instead. At that point it ceased to be part of my task.”
Millikan sensed there was no reason to continue the discussion, turned to Gates, and said, “I’m pleased that the branch chief instructed Ms. Vandeventer on proper procedure. Please send my commendation to his file.” He sent one long, chilly glare in Betsy’s direction until she broke eye contact in favor of staring down at the podium.
The DCI looked around the room and asked, “Are there any other questions to be asked of Ms. Vandeventer before she goes back to the Castleman Building?”
There were none. The NSC had been bought off. They put their knives away. There would be no ritualistic blood sacrifices. The DCI motioned Margaret Hume over and asked, “Would you show Ms. Vandeventer to my office? I’d like to talk with her after this is over.”
“Thank you for your report,” said the Operations head with barely concealed amusement. He knew a fog job when he saw one.
“You’re dead in this business,” Mrs. Hume said, leading her down the corridor. “You might as well outprocess right now while you’ve still got a breath in your body. You also owe me a pair of shoes.”
Betsy took a seat in the DCI’s office, looking out over the trees of McLean down toward the Potomac. Off to the south she thought she could see the top of the Washington Monument.
“Did you hear me?” asked Mrs. Hume.
“Sorry about the shoe,” Betsy said absentmindedly, “but I am a clumsy person. Could you get me a cup of coffee? Black, please.”
Hume hissed in a deep breath, as if preparing to shoot flames from her mouth, and then almost whiplashed when she heard her boss’s voice right behind her: “That sounds good. Get one for me, too, Maggie. Thanks so much.”
The DCI came over and sat behind his desk. He did not seem angry, just professionally neutral. “Quite a performance. You had at least six long knives coming after you, and if Millikan had drawn blood, you would have been slaughtered.”
“Why didn’t you do something? Why put me through this?”
“There is an inherent and unstoppable bureaucratic dynamic. It’s almost visceral. Your one simple comment to the attaché had an impact like a hand grenade. If one GS-eleven can figure things out, then how do you explain the need for all this?” With his left hand he indicated the central compound. “I know that I can count on your discretion, but we’re going to take a pounding on our misread of the Sovs over the past ten years. I came on the watch fairly late in the game, and there are bureaucratic and political momenta that I can’t even begin to touch.”
“I don’t mean to be naive, but isn’t this a stupid way to get things done?”
“Yes, but it’s all we’ve got.”
His secretary came in with the coffee, and he launched into a totally disconnected discussion of the need to maintain order among the ranks, the importance of the hierarchy, and so on. She left, and he busied himself for a moment with the cream pitcher.
“So everyone says I’m finished. Am I finished?”
“In the long run, yes,” he said. “In the short run you still have an assigned role. It’s all part of that momentum thing. Go back to the Castleman after lunch—you’re acting branch chief now.”
They exchanged some completely inconsequential small talk about Idaho geography. Before she had lingered long enough to become unwelcome, Betsy excused herself, shook the DCI’s hand, walked out past Hume, past the offices on the seventh floor, wondering if she’d ever be there again. She took the lift down to the first floor, walked out past security, and went to the waiting area to wait for the Blue Bird.
A familiar voice came from a bench near Nathan Hale. “Good morning, madam. How is your day? Do you need a ride?”
May
Chapter Twelve
Having grown up in the explosively fecund Dhont household, Desiree already knew more about parenting than Clyde ever would. Intimidatingly enough, she had launched into a concerted research program, buying or borrowing dozens of advanced baby-management books, surging out way beyond her former level until she vanished over Clyde’s horizon.