her connecting flight to San Francisco. As she disappeared into the crowd of arriving and departing passengers, Connor whispered to Maggie, ‘It wouldn’t surprise me if she turned round and took the next plane back to Sydney.’ Maggie nodded.
They headed off in the direction of the domestic terminal, and climbed aboard the ‘red-eye’. This time Maggie was asleep even before the video describing the safety drill had been completed. As they flew across the States, Connor tried to dismiss Tara and Stuart from his thoughts, and to concentrate on what needed to be done once he was back in Washington. In three months’ time he was due to be taken off the active list, and he still had no idea which department they planned to transfer him to. He dreaded the thought of being offered a nine-to-five job at headquarters, which he knew would consist of giving lectures to young NOCs on his experiences in the field. He had already warned Joan that he would resign if they didn’t have anything more interesting to offer him. He wasn’t cut out to be a teacher.
During the past year there had been hints about one or two front-line posts for which he was being considered, but that was before his boss had resigned without explanation. Despite twenty-eight years of service and several commendations, Connor was aware that now Chris Jackson was no longer with the Company, his future might not be quite as secure as he’d imagined.
8
‘A RE YOU CERTAIN Jackson can be trusted?’
‘No, Mr President, I’m not. But I am certain of one thing: Jackson loathes - I repeat, loathes - Helen Dexter as much as you do.’
‘Well, that’s as good as a personal recommendation,’ said the President. ‘What else made you pick him? Because if loathing Dexter was the primary qualification for the job, there must have been a fairly large number of candidates.’
‘He also has the other attributes I was looking for. There’s his record, as an officer in Vietnam and as head of counter-intelligence, not to mention his reputation as Deputy Director of the CIA.’
‘Then why did he suddenly resign when he still had such a promising career ahead of him?’
‘I suspect that Dexter felt it was a bit too promising, and he was beginning to look like a serious contender for her post.’
‘If he can prove that she gave the order to assassinate Ricardo Guzman, he still might be. It looks as if you’ve chosen the best man for the job, Andy.’
‘Jackson told me there was one better.’
‘Then let’s recruit him as well,’ said the President.
‘I had the same idea. But it turns out that he’s already working for Dexter.’
‘Well, at least he won’t know Jackson’s working for us. What else did he have to say?’
Lloyd opened the file and began to take the President through the conversation he had had with the former Deputy Director of the CIA.
When he’d finished, Lawrence’s only comment was, ‘Are you telling me I’m expected to just sit around twiddling my thumbs while we wait for Jackson to come up with something?’
‘Those were his conditions, Mr President, if we wanted him to take on the assignment. But I have a feeling that Mr Jackson isn’t the sort of person who sits around twiddling his thumbs.’
‘He’d better not be, because every day Dexter’s at Langley is a day too many for me. Let’s hope Jackson can supply us with enough rope to hang her publicly. And while we’re at it, let’s hold the execution in the Rose Garden.’
The Chief of Staff laughed. ‘That might have the double advantage of getting a few more Republicans to vote with us on the Safe Streets and Crime Reduction Bill’
The President smiled. ‘Who’s next?’ he asked.
Lloyd glanced at his watch. ‘Senator Bedell has been waiting in the lobby for some time.’
‘What does he want now?’
‘He was hoping to talk you through his latest set of proposed amendments to the Arms Reduction Bill’
The President frowned. ‘Did you notice