Read Thin Air Online

Authors: George Simpson,Neal Burger

Tags: #Fiction, #Thrillers

Thin Air (47 page)

BOOK: Thin Air
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Yablonski grunted. "Let 'em. All I want is to get my wife away from them. Back where we belong."

Yablonski slipped into the car and stuck out a hand, Hammond shook it.

"Call me for fishing?"

"You bet."

"Soon?"

Hammond nodded.

"Want me to give Jan a message?"

"No." Hammond paused. "I'll call her before you get there."

Yablonski didn't know quite how to say goodbye. "Hammond," he finally managed, "thanks."

He slumped back in the seat and the car drove off. Hammond stood alone outside the Pentagon. Tuesday. He checked his watch. 11:20. He wondered if he should go back to work. His eyes moved up to the sprawling complex and he wondered about his future, about everyone's future.

A Navy limousine rolled up behind him and several men emerged. Hammond recognized civilian agents from the Headquarters Division of NIS, along with Admiral Gault. They were escorting retired Admiral Corso in for questioning. Corso still looked dapper, but he moved like the stuffing had been knocked out of him.

Hammond saluted as they passed. Gault returned the gesture automatically, but Corso just looked at Hammond with a mixture of uncertainty and fear.

Gault put Corso in the hands of another officer at the door, then came back to speak with Hammond. "I'd like you to get back on that Okinawa business. Lee Miller called. He's having trouble. Maybe you could fly out there tomorrow—in a few days."

Gault looked at the ground and shuffled, wanting to escape. Finally, he shook his head and apologized, "I'm sorry, Nick. I knew what the Navy had in mind. That night after Bloch's party, Smitty took me into his confidence. Naval Intelligence figured out what Bloch was up to based on your information and the death of Rinehart. They got hold of his book,
A Station in Space.
It's all there, chapter and verse, a whole section on the possible applications of teleportation with orbiting satellites."

Hammond looked up in surprise.

"He wasn't such an impossible old kook after all," said Gault. "It was
his
idea, only he never knew they were using it."

Hammond choked. "You mean
you knew?
And you just let me blunder around?"

"Intelligence figured it out Saturday morning. We had the information just before that meeting with Corso. We were going to conduct our own raid. You simply beat us to it."

"Good for me."

"Look, Nick...what the hell am I apologizing for? I'm the fucking admiral around here."

"Just can't get used to it, can you?"

Gault glared at him. "I'll see you tomorrow."

"No, sir. If it's all the same to you, I've got sixty days' leave coming and I'd like some of it now."

Gault said nothing for a moment, then spoke softly, "You've got it. By the way, Jan Fletcher left MAGIC."

Hammond stiffened.
      

"This morning. Didn't see any need for protection any longer, so..."

"Did she say where she was going?"

"Mentioned that there was a hotel here in Washington more to her liking. Besides, she still had the key....Sorry she didn't work out, Nick."

Gault laid a sympathetic hand on his shoulder, then realized Hammond was smiling. He couldn't understand why.

 

He parked the Maverick on Thomas Jefferson Street and walked around to the park fronting the canal. A chilly breeze rustled the branches outside his second-story flat and stirred the curtains, her curtains, the ones she had put up more than two years ago. He heard the radio playing soft classical music, her favorite station. It was as if she had never been gone.

He walked across the grass and his shoes crunched on dead leaves. He thought to himself that of all the mistakes one could make with a woman, shutting her out of any portion of one's life was the most serious, especially if she wanted in.

So he tramped up the stairs, realizing that he was going to tell her the rest of the story, everything that had just happened, everything that Smitty wanted him to keep under his hat.

Maybe it wouldn't stop there. Maybe he would go to the
Washington Post
and speak to a couple of hotshot reporters.

There were always other careers.

Keep it under your hat, my ass.
He opened the door to his flat. He heard her humming in the kitchen.

He walked right over to the open window and with a loud whoop tore the officer's cap from his head and sailed it out into the canal.

He heard a glass crash to the floor behind him and her voice cursing in surprise, then he walked in and kissed her.

BOOK: Thin Air
6.11Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub
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