He sat like that for a few minutes. His office, the mighty command center of America’s entire intelligence community, had always seemed so secure to him. So stalwart. But now it felt flimsy. As though its walls were paper, about to be shredded, leaving him helpless and exposed, to be pulled down and torn apart from all sides.
When he opened his eyes, he saw activity on the police channel he was monitoring. Reports of a shooting. Montgomery County police officers dispatched to the deaf school. Two bodies, both white males.
He laughed, more sickened than shocked. Because of course. A woman and her teenaged deaf son. Against two ex-military contractors. They must have had help. But who? Manus, back from the West Coast?
But that was a question for later. What mattered now was that the leverage he had hoped to gain over Manus had just evaporated. He needed another move. A new plan.
Well, Plan A had been to prevent the videos from ever even seeing the light of day. Even after the texts he and Hobbs had received on the Mall, he’d still believed they could stop the release.
But now, he had to be realistic. He had to mitigate. Just in case.
Okay. He had half a dozen reporters who would print virtually anything he told them on background. Rispel had probably been playing him with her talk about the Russians and Chinese. He’d been so distraught at the time that he’d bought it. But it didn’t matter if it was bullshit. The truth was, it was a good idea. There was no reason he shouldn’t use it . . . and every reason he should.
But that was defense. Were there any other offensive plays left to him?
Rispel had been a step ahead of him so far. That much was clear. He had been a fool to take her gratitude, her loyalty, for granted. He should have foreseen the possibility that, confronted with the potential power of those videos, she would seek to acquire them for her own purposes.
Fine. But how had she been outplaying him?
She was closer to the action, of course. She reported to him, yes, but he knew from experience that being nearer the nuts and bolts of fieldwork had its advantages. A mayor was better positioned to address potholes than a governor.
But that didn’t mean the governor was powerless. Far from it.
Devereaux had been DCI before Rispel. He’d been elevated, but his network was still there. The biggest change, really, was that his ability to reward and punish had been enhanced.
Rispel couldn’t make big moves on her own. Whether for intel or for ops, she’d be moving pieces on the board. Asking for favors. And calling in some, too.
It wasn’t so difficult to imagine who she’d be relying on. And in a game of threats and favors, it would be no contest. Rispel reported to him. He reported to the president of the United States. All it would take would be a reminder to certain key people—people who were already in his network, after all—of how grateful he would be to know if Rispel seemed to be up to anything unusual. And how displeased he would be to learn he had been kept in the dark.
He thought of the way she’d told him to sit, like she was talking to a dog. And threatened to have him escorted out—from what she called her building, no less.
Well, she’d had her fun. He hoped she’d enjoyed her little games. Because now she was going to find out exactly who she was playing with.
chapter
fifty-two
MANUS
Manus watched from the lobby of the Shenandoah University Health & Life Sciences Building as the cab turned around. He waited until it had left the parking lot and disappeared down the street. Then he headed out and started walking west. The morning sky was gray, the air cold and humid. It felt good to be outside after the long, sleepless flight.
Before Manus had left, Dox had said to him, “You saved my ass at the hotel. Don’t think I don’t know it, and don’t think I’ll forget. And if I’m ever in a position to return the favor, I hope you believe I will.”