Free Term Limits by Vince Flynn Page B

sure of yourself, Dr. Kennedy. Are you ruling out the possibility that these murders were committed by a terrorist group?”
    â€œI do not think they were committed by a fundamentalist terrorist group. A group that, as you said earlier, would be unhappy with the peace that is being made in the Middle East. As far as the murders being committed by a group of domestic terrorists, such as one of your antigovernment, Aryan Nation types … I highly doubt they would have the trained personnel it would take to pull something like this off. Besides, why would they kill someone like Senator Downs? He’s pro-NRA and pro-military. He’s one of the few politicians those militia members like.”
    Garret gestured toward Kennedy. “Well, I’m glad to know that after hearing a ten-minute briefing, you’ve solved the case for us.” Garret chuckled mockingly at Kennedy. “How can you say that so emphatically, with such little information?”
    McMahon stared at Garret and thought to himself, God, this guy’s an ass. Director Roach saw the look on McMahon’s face and placed his hand on his friend’s arm. McMahon pulled away and leaned back in his chair, continuing to stare at Garret.
    Kennedy was used to men challenging her intellect and continued to defend her opinion in a professional tone. “It is my job to know how these groups kill, Mr. Garret. If a group, such as Abu Nidal, had committed these murders, they would have simply gone down to one of the more popular dining spots in town, planted a bomb, and explodedit during lunch yesterday. They would have easily killed a dozen senators and congressmen, and probably a few cabinet members.”
    â€œWhy couldn’t it have been a domestic right-wing paramilitary group?”
    â€œIt’s possible, but as I said earlier, I don’t think those groups have the resources to conduct an operation like this.”
    In a loud voice Garret half shouted, “If you’re so sure that it wasn’t terrorists, then who did it?”
    McMahon leaned forward in his chair and placed both forearms on the table. At six foot three, 240 pounds, he looked like a bear ready to attack. Before Roach could react, McMahon was speaking. “Mr. Garret, we are all professionals here. There is no reason to get emotional and raise our voices. You asked for our opinions and Dr. Kennedy has respectfully done so. She has given us some very intelligent insight into a case where it is greatly needed. She is not trying to tell us exactly who did it, she is merely helping us narrow our search.” McMahon continued to stare at Garret as the chief of staff flushed angrily.
    Mike Nance could not believe what he was witnessing. He had seen Stu Garret act like this in countless meetings during the last three years. It was a rarity to see anyone put him in his place, let alone an underling from the FBI. The tension in the room continued to build as McMahon refused to back down. Director Roach was sitting back in his chair, hand over brow, dreading what might happen next.
    The president ended the confrontation. “Everybody calm down.… We are all under a lot of pressure,and I’m sure it’s only going to get worse. Let’s relax and discuss Dr. Kennedy’s theory.”
    While the meeting continued, Bridgett Ryan sat in her cubicle across town at NBC’s Washington bureau and tried to look busy. Bridgett was a senior journalism major at Catholic University and was in the middle of a one-year internship with NBC. Her boss was Mark Stein, the network’s D.C. bureau chief.
    Bridgett’s work schedule varied depending on her daily class load. This morning she had rolled out of bed at 9 A.M., found out about the murders, and instead of going to class, went straight to the studio. She’d been there for over an hour and a half and had done little more than pour coffee and scribble notes for Stein. She was sitting at her little