Free Blowback by Brad Thor

is coming down from the Hill. We need to put as much distance between you and the president as possible. Your desk at DHS has already been cleared out.”
    “You don’t waste any time, do you?”
    “We’ve got to focus on the big picture.”
    “So what exactly am I supposed to do?”
    “First, I’d like you to sign this letter of resignation.”
    “And second?” asked Harvath, mad as hell that no one seemed to be considering what he had done for this administration.
    Anderson looked at him and replied, “You might want to start thinking about a new career.”

TWELVE
    GREENBELTPARK
    LATER THAT AFTERNOON
     
    Do you want to explain to me why we had to meet all the way out here?” demanded Harvath, whose temper had only gotten worse since his meeting with the chief of staff.
    “Because right now,” replied Gary Lawlor, as he walked past his thirty-five-year-old protégé and headed for one of the park’s paved jogging trails, “you have the unfortunate distinction of being politically toxic.”
    “Politically toxic,” mused Harvath as he fell in step with the man who was not only his boss, but also a long-standing friend of his family and someone who had become like a second father to him. “This isn’t exactly how I had imagined my career coming to an end, “He continued. “It’s not only a bit undistinguished, but the timing’s off by about a good twenty years. Jesus Christ, Gary, how the hell did I become the bad guy in all of this? If Carmichael goes public with my identity, that’s it. I’ve screwed the pooch. It’s all over. What the hell am I supposed to do?”
    “For starters, stop feeling sorry for yourself,” suggested Lawlor.
    “I don’t feel sorry for myself. I feel sorry for my country. You know I wasn’t exactly in this for the paycheck. I was in it because I believed in defending what America stands for.”
    “And what? You’ve stopped believing? You don’t want to defend those things anymore?”
    “Were you not listening when I told you Charles Anderson had me sign a letter of resignation?” asked Harvath.
    Lawlor stopped and turned to face him. “What did you expect? He’s the president’s chief of staff. His job is to protect Jack Rutledge, not Scot Harvath.”
    “In pursuit of which it’s okay to throw me to the wolves on the Hill?”
    “If necessary, you bet,” replied Lawlor.
    “But why me? Why make me the sacrificial lamb?”
    “Why not you?”
    “Because I do a very dangerous job for my country and I’ve never asked for anything in return.”
    “Now you’ve hit upon the right word,” said Lawlor. “Dangerous. Your job is extremely dangerous. Not only for you, but for this administration as well.”
    “You still don’t get it, do you?” Harvath asked. “I didn’t do anything wrong. I don’t care if that guy in Baghdad was some jackass fruit vendor. He got paid to be a decoy. He knew he was doing something he shouldn’t, and as a result, he got the beating I was intending on handing Khalid Alomari. Maybe he’ll stick to selling fruit from now on.”
    “I think you’ve guaranteed that the man’s decoy days are well behind him, but that’s not what we’re talking about.”
    “Really?” inquired Harvath. “Then what is?”
    “Senator Carmichael. She isn’t after you for what you got caught doing by al-Jazeera.”
    “The hell she isn’t.”
    “Scot, I know you’re angry, but shut up a second and listen to me. The whole al-Jazeera thing is only a pretense. Does it make us look bad in the Muslim world? Yes, it does. Can we repair that damage? Of course we can. It might take some time and a lot of PR, but we can definitely do it.
    “You need to remember that Senator Carmichael didn’t get to be where she is by being stupid. She’s a savvy woman and an extremely adept politician. Would I have liked it if you had never popped up on her radar screen? Of course, but now that you’re there, she’s using lots of little crumbs of information to