Free The Target by David Baldacci Page A

considering this.
    Robie looked over his shoulder. “Do you regret not having windows?”
    Bitterman looked behind him. “Sometimes, yes.”
    “It’s hard to see what’s around you without windows. You tend to get cloistered, detached, and your judgment can be impaired.”
    Bitterman smiled. “Now who is testing whom?”
    “I’m just being transparent, Doc.”
    “And I know better than that, don’t I?”
    “How well do you know Amanda Marks?”
    “Not all that well. She’s the new number two, of course. You don’t get there without being an overachiever. Her record is a brilliant one. Excelled at every level.”
    “And she can be trusted to follow orders under any circumstance?” asked Robie.
    Bitterman didn’t say anything for several long moments as a clock on a shelf ticked the seconds away.
    “I have not performed a psych evaluation on her.”
    “Best guess based on your observations thus far.”
    “I would say that she is a good soldier,” said Bitterman slowly.
    “Then you’ve answered my question.”
    “But you haven’t answered mine, Agent Robie. Far from it.”
    “So I failed the eval?”
    “This is just the preliminary. We’ll meet again.”
    “And how long am I being kept here?”
    “That’s way above my pay grade.”
    “And if it’s determined that I don’t measure up?”
    Bitterman clamped down on his unlit pipe’s stem. “Same answer.”

Chapter
    12
    Y OUR HISTORY IS ONE OF the most unusual I’ve ever encountered.”
    Reel sat across from another agency shrink, this one a woman in her fifties with dull brown hair with gray roots, spectacles on a chain, and a dour expression. Her name was Linda Spitzer. She wore a long skirt, a cotton vest over a white blouse, and boots. They were seated across from each other in the woman’s office, a coffee table between them.
    “So do I get a prize?” said Reel.
    Spitzer closed the folder she was holding. “Why do you think you’re here?”
    “I don’t think, I know. I’m here to be punished.”
    “For what?”
    Reel closed her eyes and sighed. When she reopened them she said, “Do we really have to do this? I’m a little tired and I’m sure DD Marks has more fun planned for me today.”
    Spitzer shrugged. “We have an hour. It’s up to you how we use it.”
    “Why don’t you read a book, then? I can steal a catnap.”
    “You know, I’m not sure I would have recommended you for field duty given your history.”
    “Well, maybe I was unlucky I didn’t run into you way back when. I could have skipped this part of my life.”
    Spitzer smiled benignly. “I know that you’re very smart and cunning and you can talk circles around pretty much anyone, including me. But that doesn’t get us far, does it?”
    “It works for me, actually.”
    “Agent Reel, I think we can be more productive than this.”
    Reel sat forward. “Do you know why I’m here? I mean really why?”
    “My job is not tied to that. My job is to evaluate you to determine if you are up to the task of field redeployment.”
    “Well, they didn’t seem to have a problem with my field deployment on my last mission. They gave me a medal.”
    “Nevertheless, those are my instructions,” countered Spitzer.
    “And you always follow orders, I take it?” said Reel contemptuously.
    “Do you?”
    “Okay, so here we go.” She sat back. “I pretty much always follow orders.”
    Spitzer said, “Does that mean nine times out of ten? And under what circumstances do you not follow orders?”
    “Actually higher than nine times out of ten. And I don’t follow orders when my gut tells me not to.”
    “Your gut? Can you elaborate?”
    “Sure. My gut.” She pointed to her belly. “That thing right here. It gives me tingly feelings when something is off. It’s also useful in holding and then digesting food.”
    “And you listen to this instinct always?” asked Spitzer.
    “Yes.”
    “What is it telling you now?”
    This query seemed to catch Reel off guard.