Read The Run Online

Authors: Stuart Woods

Tags: #Thriller, #Politics, #Mystery

The Run (6 page)

BOOK: The Run
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8

Christmas dinner at the Lee farm was much the same as Christmases past, with Billy and Patricia Lee, Will and Kate and Will’s Aunt Eloise, Billy’s younger sister. They ate goose, which Kate preferred to turkey, and they drank a sturdy California Cabernet. Will reflected that theirs might be the only Christmas table in Meriwether County with a wine bottle on it.

After lunch and coffee in the library, Billy took Will’s arm and led him out in back of the house. It was an uncharacteristically warm day for late December, with the temperature in the mid-sixties, and they took seats on some teak chairs beside the swimming pool, which had been covered for the winter. A light breeze played through the bare oak trees around the backyard of the house, but the sun was warm on their faces.

“I want to talk to you,” Billy said.

“Sure, Dad.”

“I’ve reached a peculiar time in my life,” Billy said.
“My political career is over; my legal career is over; my health is less than perfect. Still, I’m well enough to enjoy the comfortable life your mother and I have built for ourselves.” He paused and looked out over the little lake beside Will’s cottage. “But I’m not enjoying it very much.”

“What’s the problem, Dad?”

“I thought I had just explained that. I miss the action. I miss problems to solve. I miss the give-and-take of politics and the courtroom. I miss
doing
something.”

“I’m sorry if I was dense; I understand.”

Billy held up a hand. “Now don’t suggest that I take up a hobby. I read a lot, and that’s enough hobby for me. I wish that, when I was in office, I had read what I’ve read now. I’d have been a better governor, and maybe more.”

“What can I do to help, Dad?”

“You can run for president, that’s what you can do. That’ll keep me going for a few more years.”

“Dad, I’d love to run, but…”

“All right, all right. Now, I know something’s wrong with Joe Adams, and I know you can’t tell me about it. I’d be disappointed in you if you breached a confidence, even to me.”

“I’m glad you understand.”

“I take it that whatever is wrong with Joe isn’t going to be revealed immediately. I remember that, a week or two ago, he had his annual physical at Walter Reed, and that his office released the results in a routine manner. So whatever’s happened has happened since then.”

Will didn’t say anything.

“What I’m trying to say to you is that you have to make the most of the period between right now and the time Joe drops out.”

“How can I do that?”

“Without breaching a confidence? Come on, boy, you’re a better politician than that. You’ve got to put together a core of people to get a campaign organized. It’s late, Will, very late to be starting from scratch, and you’re going to have to find a way to let your key people know what’s coming. If you wait and let them be surprised when Joe pulls out, they’ll be insulted, because you didn’t trust them.”

“I see your point,” Will said. “Tom Black called me yesterday and asked a lot of hypothetical questions, and I gave him a lot of hypothetical answers.”

“That’s good enough,” Billy said. “Now you’ve got to start talking hypothetically with some other people. How much money have you got at this moment in time?”

“I’ve got a little over three-quarters of a million dollars in my campaign fund.”

“That’ll get you started while you get a fund-raising campaign under way.”

“I can’t spend any of that on a presidential bid right now,” Will said.

“You can spend it on your next Senate race, can’t you?”

“Well, sure, but that’s three years off.”

“Listen, you can turn a Senate race into a presidential race in the blinking of an eye.”

“I suppose so. What do you think I should do right now?”

“Pick people for your key campaign slots and tell them to start putting together a plan right now, something that can be put into immediate effect when the moment comes.”

“I guess I can do that, if I do it carefully.”

“Also, I think you should start accepting speaking engagements in states with large blocks of electoral
votes—California, New York, Illinois, and so on. And New Hampshire, of course. I’ve still got a few friends around the country; I’ll see if I can arrange a few speaking invitations.”

“Dad, we can’t let it get out that you’re doing this.”

“Of course not,” Billy snorted. “And you shouldn’t be giving blatant political speeches. What you should do is select topics that are important to your audiences and give good, common-sense speeches on those issues. Your goal is not to win votes right now, but to impress the people you’re talking to. That way, when you announce, you’ll have people out there who’ll remember that they liked what you said or the way you said it. You should include statements in each speech that will be quoted prominently in the press, too.”

“I suppose you have some topics in mind.”

“Oh, I guess so.” Billy laughed. “I think the situation in Russia and our relationship to that regime would be a good one. It’s a dangerous situation, and it’s not getting the attention it should either in the press or in Congress. It’s not too hard to envision circumstances that could lead to a nuclear incident.”

“You’re right about that. What else?”

“Start suggesting solutions to some big problems—saving social security, better health care, that sort of thing. If you show people now that you have some ideas for solving these problems, they’ll remember that when you’re a candidate.”

“Dad, will you write me a long memo on all this?”

“Sure I will; give me something to do. Lately, I’ve been thinking too much about dying. Be nice to have something else to think about.”

“Have you been feeling ill, Dad?”

“No, just more tired than I want to feel.”

“Have you talked to your doctor?”

“He said there’s nothing much wrong with me ex
cept the two heart attacks I’ve had. He told me to get a hobby.” Billy smiled. “You’re going to be my hobby, Will. I can’t think of anything more fun than getting you elected president. I’m beginning to understand how Joe Kennedy must have felt when he was out to elect Jack. I only wish I could
buy
you an election, the way he did.”

Will laughed. “I wish you could, too.”

9

Will and Kate returned to Washington after Christmas, and Kate returned to work at the Central Intelligence Agency the following morning. Kate, as deputy director for Intelligence, or DDI, was in charge of all the Agency’s analysts. She had risen through the ranks on the Soviet Union desk and had distinguished herself throughout her career. She arrived in her large, corner office at 8
A.M
., and was surprised to find a note on her desk asking her to report to Elliot Baskin, deputy director, the number-two man at the Agency. She went up to the executive floor and was admitted to his office.

“Good morning, Kate, welcome back,” Baskin said, rising to shake her hand.

“Good morning, Elliot,” she replied.

“Hey, Kate,” said a voice from the other side of the room.

Kate turned to find Hugh English sitting on the sofa before the fireplace, where a cheery blaze was burning.
English was deputy director for Operations, DDO, head of the spy department.

“Morning, Hugh,” she said.

Baskin waved her toward the fireplace. “Take a pew; let’s talk.”

Kate walked over and sat in a leather armchair, while Baskin took a seat beside Hugh English. She wondered why he had done that; he could have taken the other chair. The seating arrangement seemed, somehow, adversarial.

“Good holiday?” Baskin asked.

“A quiet one,” she replied. “We spent it with Will’s parents in Georgia.”

“So I hear,” English said.

“Why, Hugh,” Kate said, smiling, “I thought you were barred from conducting domestic intelligence operations.” Something was up.

“Just an ear to the ground,” English said, waving a hand.

Baskin spoke up. “I hear you visited Ed Rawls in Atlanta,” he said.

Kate nodded. “Yes, I did.”

“You should have reported it, Kate.”

“You haven’t been reading your mail, Elliot; I did report it.”

Baskin reddened slightly. “I haven’t caught up after the holiday. Tell us about it.”

“The day after I arrived in Delano, a letter from Ed came for me, asking me to visit him. I enclosed his letter with my report.”

“What did he want?”

Kate shrugged. “I think he was lonely. He seemed apologetic about his crimes, though he didn’t quite apologize.”

“How many times have you seen Rawls since his conviction?”

“This was the first.”

“Heard from him? Written to him?”

“No.”

“Why do you think he
really
wanted to see you, Kate?”

Kate had already decided to stick strictly to her report. “If he had a
real
reason, he never got around to it. He talked about his place in Maine, said he’d like to finish out his days there.”

“Is he planning an escape?” Hugh English asked, chuckling.

“I got the impression he hopes for a pardon.”

“From whom?” Baskin asked.

“I suppose from the president, since no one else can pardon him.”

“I’d certainly oppose that,” Baskin said. “The director would, too, I think.”

“I expressed that opinion to Ed,” she said.

“The son of a bitch,” English said heatedly. “He cost me half a dozen good agents.”

Kate turned to him. “My recollection, Hugh, is that you were working in the Bangkok station when Ed was caught.”

“I meant Ops. He cost Ops some good men.”

“And women.”

“Yeah. All because he couldn’t keep his dick in his pants.”

“So gracefully expressed, Hugh,” Kate said.

“All right, you two,” Baskin interjected, “let’s not get off the subject.”

“What exactly
is
the subject, Elliot?” Kate asked.

“Your visit to Rawls.”

“I don’t see how you could even sit in the same room with the bastard,” English said.

“We were once good friends,” Kate said. “You may have heard that he was one of the best people the
Agency ever produced, and that, at the time he was arrested, he was the leading candidate for your job.”

English squirmed a little. “You might remember what he did.”

“And you might remember that I put him out of business,” she said. “I don’t like him for what he did, but I don’t hate him for it, either.” She turned to Baskin. “If you don’t want me to see him again, all you have to do is say so.” She saw Baskin and English exchange a quick glance, and she wondered what it meant.

“Oh, no,” Baskin said. “See him anytime you like, just report the content of your conversation.”

“I don’t have any plans to visit him again.” She looked at both men. “I don’t get this. Ed is no longer a threat to anybody. Why are you two so exercised by my visit?”

“Kate,” Baskin said, “I want to ask you a very serious question.”

“Shoot.”

“Your marriage has always been something of a concern to me, and to the director.”

“And why is that?”

“Do you ever discuss Agency business with your husband?”

“No,” she said immediately. “When Will and I got married, we agreed that we would not talk about my work.”

“You talked about it
before
you were married?”

“Elliot, you might remember that, before we were married, and before Will was elected to the Senate, he was the counsel to the Senate Intelligence Committee. We had occasion to discuss business—always, I think, to the benefit of the Agency.”

Baskin nodded. “Does he know about your visit to Rawls?”

“No. When he asked me where I was going, I told
him it was business, and he dropped it, just as he always does.”

“You’re sure about that?”

“I am. I’d be pleased to take a polygraph, if you like.”

“Oh, no, no,” Baskin said. “That won’t be necessary.”

English spoke up. “
I’d
like her to take a polygraph.”

“I said it wouldn’t be necessary,” Baskin said sharply.

“I’d be happy to take a polygraph and have you administer it personally, Hugh,” she said. “Now, either do it or never question my word again.”

“I’ll question your word whenever I feel like it,” English said.

“Now, people,” Baskin interjected. “This is unnecessary.”

“Apparently it
is
necessary,” Kate said. “I
insist
on a polygraph, and I want it done before lunch.” She stood up. “I’ll be in my office; call me when you’re ready.”

“I’m ready right now,” English said, getting to his feet.

“Both of you, shut up!” Baskin barked. “I’m not going to have this sort of childish display at the upper levels of the Agency.”

Kate wheeled on him. “
Childish?
You haul me in here and accuse me of an unreported visit to a jailed officer, when my report is already on your desk; then Hugh as much as accuses me of some sort of treasonous behavior. Then you imply that I’m discussing Agency business with my husband. If you think I’m going to put up with it for a minute, you’re very, very wrong.”

“Kate, I apologize if it seemed that way, and I’m
sorry I didn’t look for your report before calling you in.” He turned to English. “Hugh, I think you owe Kate an apology, too.”

“Sorry,” English said, not looking at her.

“Will that be all?” Kate asked.

“Yes, of course. Again, I’m sorry about the tone of this meeting, and I fully accept your representations both about your meeting with Rawls and about your conversations with your husband.”

“Thank you,” Kate said, then walked out of the office. All the way back to her floor and her own office she fumed inside, while greeting people pleasantly in the hallways. Back at her desk she took deep breaths and tried to cool down. She wished she’d never gone to see Ed Rawls.

10

On New Year’s Eve Will and Kate threw a dinner party, a nearly annual event, with a guest list of fifty. At the time of their marriage they had each owned a small town house in Georgetown; they had sold them both and bought a bigger house with a wider facade and three stories and a garage in the basement. It was perfect for entertaining, which they did fairly often, ranging from intimate dinners of eight or twelve to the New Year’s bash. They had it down to a science, and, except for work on the guest list, it had become an almost effortless exercise. A perfectly trained caterer took over the house; all Will and Kate had to do was get dressed.

BOOK: The Run
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