Free Jack Ryan 7 - The Sum of All Fears by Tom Clancy Page A

reporter had had no place in that particular arena. As a result, they were grateful to the local S-A-C for letting the news team on the scene, and grateful to the Hostage Rescue Team for saving both of them when things had taken a dangerous turn. It wasn't the first time the Bureau had reaped a PR bonanza from a near-catastrophe. The FBI was more jealous of its public relations than any government agency, and Shaw's problem was simply that to fire S-A-C Walt Hoskins would look bad.
    
    
     Murray
    
    
     pressed on. “He's learned his lesson. Walt isn't stupid, Bill.”
    “And bagging the governor last year was some coup, wasn't it?” Shaw grimaced. Hoskins was a genius at political corruption cases. A state governor was now contemplating life in a federal prison because of him. That was how Hoskins had become a Special-Agent-in-Charge in the first place. “You have something in mind, Dan?”
    “ASAC Denver,”
    
    
     Murray
    
    
     replied with a mischievous twinkle. “It's elegant. He goes from a little field office to head of corruption cases in a major field division. It's a promotion that takes him out of command and puts him back in what he's best at—and if the rumbles we're getting out of Denver are right, he'll have lots of work to do. Like maybe a senator and a congresswoman—maybe more. The preliminary indications on the water project look big. I mean real big, Bill: like twenty million bucks changing hands.”
    Shaw whistled respectfully at that. “All that for one senator and one congresscritter?”
    “Like I said, maybe more. The latest thing is some environmental types being paid off—in government and out. Who do we have better at unraveling a ball of yarn that big? Walt's got a nose for this sort of thing. The man can't draw his gun without losing a few toes, but he's one hell of a bird-dog.”
    
    
     Murray
    
    
     closed the folder in his hands. “Anyway, you wanted me to look around and make a recommendation. Send him to
    
    
     Denver
    
    
    , or retire him. Mike Delaney is willing to rotate back this way—his kid's going to start at GW this fall, and Mike wants to teach down at the Academy. That gives you the opening. It's all very neat and tidy, but it's your call, Director.”
    “Thank you, Mr. Murray,” Director Shaw said gravely. Then his face broke into a grin. “Remember when all we had to worry about was chasing bank bandits? I hate this admin crap!”
    “Maybe we shouldn't have caught so many,” Dan agreed. “We'd still be working riverside Philly and having a beer with the troops at night. Why do people toast success? It just screws up your life.”
    “We're both talking like old farts.”
    “We both are old farts, Bill,”
    
    
     Murray
    
    
     pointed out. “But at least I don't travel around with a protective detail.”
    “You son of a bitch!” Shaw gagged, and dribbled coffee down his necktie. “Oh, Christ, Dan!” he gasped, laughing. “Look what you made me do.”
    “Bad sign when a guy can't hold his coffee, Director.”
    “Out! Get the orders cut before I bust you back to the street.”
    “Oh, no, please, not that, anything but that!”
    
    
     Murray
    
    
     stopped laughing and turned semi-serious for a moment. “What's Kenny doing now?”
    “Just got his assignment to his submarine, USS Maine. Bonnie's doing fine with the baby—due in December. Dan?”
    “Yeah, Bill?”
    “Nice call on Hoskins. I needed an easy out on that. Thanks.”
    “No problem, Bill. Walt will jump at it. I wish they were all this easy.”
    “You following up on the Warrior Society?”
    “Freddy Warder's working on it. We just might roll those bastards up in a few months.”
    And both knew that would be nice. There were not many domestic terrorist groups left. Reducing their number by one more by the end of the year would be another major coup.
     
    It was dawn in the Dakota badlands. Marvin Russell knelt on the hide of a bison, facing the sunrise. He wore jeans, but was