thought dismally. She tossed the sheet onto her desk, annoyed at the sluggishness of the system. She reached over for another cigarette and lit it with a quick, precise motion.
Ken Collins strolled inside the office. His tie loose, he seemed quite relaxed.
"What's up, Katie?"
She pointed to the list in front of her. "Look at this."
"I know. I got the new one this morning."
She stood up. "Well, Floyd isn't on it yet. I suppose it hasn't been confirmed that he's succumbed."
"No, we're waiting on the report. But they think he has gone under from the way the evidence was presented."
"What's the evidence?"
"Well, he went to a reception last night with the Saudi ambassador, and it turned out to be quite a party. A lot of people were there."
"I know. I got wind of it from Rita this morning." She inhaled stiffly on her cigarette.
"And they checked everyone's immunity card, so that they could provide a small orchestra."
"And?"
"As near as anyone can tell, he went outside with a companion and she came back alone. Or that's what they say."
"Wasn't he watched?"
"Hell, yes, he was watched," he said emphatically. "The Swiss and the Germans both had the place cordoned off. We had our own security people and no one could've left without being seen or detected."
"Who was his companion? I'm surprised we don't know these things." The implication was that "we" ought to know these things. Ken read it in the President's face.
"We don't know who she was. There were a lot of people present who had little or nothing to do with the conference. Mostly friends of friends. You know, a regular bash."
She nodded. "I assume the public doesn't know of this yet. Has it leaked?"
"We're trying to keep the lid on until it can be confirmed. The official word is that he's indisposed. Ill. We think the mission can proceed without him. The two ambassadors and their respective staffs have already met in private, so some of the air's been cleared."
Katie stood in a small cloud of smoke.
"What do you recommend we do about this? You know the public," she asked quite openly.
"Well," Ken rolled up his shirtsleeves, "we have the Undersecretary flying over right now, and we can let him handle our involvement in the negotiations. It's just more important that the ambassadors get together—and be seen together—at the conference. We can stay out of it, which we probably should, given the mess that we left in the Middle East."
"Well, at least too many bombs weren't used then." She walked around the desk. "We can give some of the credit to the Russians for helping with the evacuation. Who needed the Suez Canal anyway?"
Ken thought about Matkin's disappearance. "I've gone ahead and put in a petition for a Stalker since we managed to get the program that the orchestra played. If it's the case that Floyd went under to the orchestra's performance, then we should have no problem. Beyond that, we can only guess what made him vanish."
"OK, Ken," Katie said. "Keep me posted. I have enough to worry about today without this happening to Floyd. Especially now."
Collins smiled, not without affection. "Just leave things to us. We can skim most of the shit off the top for you."
She sat back in the chair behind the great desk.
"So, what's going on out front this morning?" She referred to the three thousand protestors that had assembled at dawn just beyond the front gates. Three thousand in filter-masks.
"It's that nuclear group. They're from Denver protesting the meltdown. It appears that more radioactive debris is entering the water table in southeastern Colorado, and they think it's your fault because you won't put your foot down."
Katie stared out the window.
Ken went on. "Then there are a few farmers protesting in general. Something about the Mississippi spill. That defoliant, BT-701. They want some heads to roll."
"Shit." She shook her own head, stubbing out her cigarette. "That was a bad one. I really do sympathize with them. Maybe I should fly out there
Ken Collins strolled inside the office. His tie loose, he seemed quite relaxed.
"What's up, Katie?"
She pointed to the list in front of her. "Look at this."
"I know. I got the new one this morning."
She stood up. "Well, Floyd isn't on it yet. I suppose it hasn't been confirmed that he's succumbed."
"No, we're waiting on the report. But they think he has gone under from the way the evidence was presented."
"What's the evidence?"
"Well, he went to a reception last night with the Saudi ambassador, and it turned out to be quite a party. A lot of people were there."
"I know. I got wind of it from Rita this morning." She inhaled stiffly on her cigarette.
"And they checked everyone's immunity card, so that they could provide a small orchestra."
"And?"
"As near as anyone can tell, he went outside with a companion and she came back alone. Or that's what they say."
"Wasn't he watched?"
"Hell, yes, he was watched," he said emphatically. "The Swiss and the Germans both had the place cordoned off. We had our own security people and no one could've left without being seen or detected."
"Who was his companion? I'm surprised we don't know these things." The implication was that "we" ought to know these things. Ken read it in the President's face.
"We don't know who she was. There were a lot of people present who had little or nothing to do with the conference. Mostly friends of friends. You know, a regular bash."
She nodded. "I assume the public doesn't know of this yet. Has it leaked?"
"We're trying to keep the lid on until it can be confirmed. The official word is that he's indisposed. Ill. We think the mission can proceed without him. The two ambassadors and their respective staffs have already met in private, so some of the air's been cleared."
Katie stood in a small cloud of smoke.
"What do you recommend we do about this? You know the public," she asked quite openly.
"Well," Ken rolled up his shirtsleeves, "we have the Undersecretary flying over right now, and we can let him handle our involvement in the negotiations. It's just more important that the ambassadors get together—and be seen together—at the conference. We can stay out of it, which we probably should, given the mess that we left in the Middle East."
"Well, at least too many bombs weren't used then." She walked around the desk. "We can give some of the credit to the Russians for helping with the evacuation. Who needed the Suez Canal anyway?"
Ken thought about Matkin's disappearance. "I've gone ahead and put in a petition for a Stalker since we managed to get the program that the orchestra played. If it's the case that Floyd went under to the orchestra's performance, then we should have no problem. Beyond that, we can only guess what made him vanish."
"OK, Ken," Katie said. "Keep me posted. I have enough to worry about today without this happening to Floyd. Especially now."
Collins smiled, not without affection. "Just leave things to us. We can skim most of the shit off the top for you."
She sat back in the chair behind the great desk.
"So, what's going on out front this morning?" She referred to the three thousand protestors that had assembled at dawn just beyond the front gates. Three thousand in filter-masks.
"It's that nuclear group. They're from Denver protesting the meltdown. It appears that more radioactive debris is entering the water table in southeastern Colorado, and they think it's your fault because you won't put your foot down."
Katie stared out the window.
Ken went on. "Then there are a few farmers protesting in general. Something about the Mississippi spill. That defoliant, BT-701. They want some heads to roll."
"Shit." She shook her own head, stubbing out her cigarette. "That was a bad one. I really do sympathize with them. Maybe I should fly out there
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