Page 8
Story: Blowback
He shifts his attention to Liam, and Noa feels a sense of relief, that the force of the man’s personality—like the beam of a high-powered searchlight—is now pointed at someone else. She’s still processing what’s been assigned to her by the president.
Domestic work,she thinks. The legal and institutional handcuffs put on by Barrett’s predecessors and Congress have just been slipped off.
One hell of an opportunity.
Sure,she thinks,an opportunity to really hit hard at some bad actors out there, or an opportunity to be humiliated, arrested, and stripped of my pension if this turns into another Iran–Contra disaster.
Noa wants to make a difference in the world by being in the Agency, and the president has just given her a golden ticket to do so.
President Barrett is talking a good talk, but will that be enough once the bodies start piling up?
“There are terrorist cells, hackers, and bot farms controlled by the Iranians, Chinese, and Russians, and there are hackers-for-hire across the globe,” the president says. “They attack us day and night via cyberspace or in the real world. We don’t retaliate appropriately because we don’t want to escalate the situation, or because we’re not one hundred percent sure of a target, or because we don’t want to stoop to their level. That stops today. You’re going to get a team together of people from the intelligence and military communities. From there, overseas you’ll go. These farms, cells, and other structures … you know what Rome did to Carthage?”
“Yes, sir,” Liam says. “Once Rome finally conquered Carthage, they destroyed every building and salted the earth around the ruins so nothing would ever grow there again. And that’s exactly what happened.”
The president nods. “I want them gone. Gone so hard that whoever survives won’t go back to a computer keyboard or an AK-47 ever again.”
Liam says, “If I may, it sounds risky, sir.”
“Of course it’s risky,” he says. “Fortune favors the bold, correct? And it’s time for us to be bold. I’ll give you both twenty-four hours to pick your teams and then come back here tomorrow. We’ll go over your candidates, and then we’ll discuss logistics and support. And when it comes to support, you’ll have everything you need, with just one phone call or text. As commander in chief, I can get any branch of the military to assist you under any circumstances.”
The president leans back into the couch. “I’ve followed both of your careers over the years. You have the intelligence, toughness, experience, and … well, the perfect background and history of heartbreak to do what must be done. Any questions?”
Dozens of them,Noa thinks, but she doesn’t want to speak first.
She feels she’s spoken enough, and even though she has misgivings about what’s being offered to her, she is also relishing the thought of taking the fight to enemies who have set up camp within the nation’s borders.
Let Liam take the lead.
But Liam refuses to do so.
“No, sir,” he says. “I’m good.”
Noa says, “I’m good as well.”
President Barrett nods with satisfaction.
“Get out, get to work, and I’ll see you tomorrow. I’ll be supplying you both with an initial set of targets, complete with locations and defenses.” He adds a chilly smile. “I’ll also supply the salt.”
CHAPTER 11
A FEW MINUTES after Liam Grey and Noa Himel depart, President Keegan Barrett reviews his schedule for the day when the door to his office opens and Carlton Pope walks in. On the official White House organization chart, he’s listed as a “special assistant to the president,” which covers a lot of ground, water, and sky—exactly what Barrett wants.
Pope is stocky, heavyset, with a type of blocky body that makes Savile Row tailors toss up their respective hands in despair while trying to tailor a suit to fit. His prematurely gray hair is trimmed short, and his nose is round and misshapen, from a long-ago break that never properly healed.
He takes a seat in front of Barrett. Except for the Secret Service, Pope is the only one allowed to come into Barrett’s office without knocking first. Even Barrett’s chief of staff, Quinn Lawrence, isn’t allowed here without a warning phone call.
Pope says, “Well?”
Barrett says, “I think they’ll work out. They’re young, experienced, and dedicated.”
Pope smirks, and Barrett allows him that one look. Years ago, when Barrett was in the Army and on a still-classified mission toSerbia, Barrett had saved this man’s career and life, and in the ensuing years, Pope has diligently worked to pay back that debt.
Barrett always relies on the loyalty of others and is glad to pay it back.
He says, “All right, you ignorant peasant, pack that smirk away. Because of bad movies and past history, most people don’t realize that the CIA attracts the best and brightest, who’ll go to the extremes to perform their mission. It’s not the pay that drives them, and it’s sure as hell not the publicity. They do it because they’re dedicated to the Agency and this country.”
Pope says, “All right, I’ll take back the smirk. They both seem experienced … and that Noa.” He smiles. “A real looker.”
Domestic work,she thinks. The legal and institutional handcuffs put on by Barrett’s predecessors and Congress have just been slipped off.
One hell of an opportunity.
Sure,she thinks,an opportunity to really hit hard at some bad actors out there, or an opportunity to be humiliated, arrested, and stripped of my pension if this turns into another Iran–Contra disaster.
Noa wants to make a difference in the world by being in the Agency, and the president has just given her a golden ticket to do so.
President Barrett is talking a good talk, but will that be enough once the bodies start piling up?
“There are terrorist cells, hackers, and bot farms controlled by the Iranians, Chinese, and Russians, and there are hackers-for-hire across the globe,” the president says. “They attack us day and night via cyberspace or in the real world. We don’t retaliate appropriately because we don’t want to escalate the situation, or because we’re not one hundred percent sure of a target, or because we don’t want to stoop to their level. That stops today. You’re going to get a team together of people from the intelligence and military communities. From there, overseas you’ll go. These farms, cells, and other structures … you know what Rome did to Carthage?”
“Yes, sir,” Liam says. “Once Rome finally conquered Carthage, they destroyed every building and salted the earth around the ruins so nothing would ever grow there again. And that’s exactly what happened.”
The president nods. “I want them gone. Gone so hard that whoever survives won’t go back to a computer keyboard or an AK-47 ever again.”
Liam says, “If I may, it sounds risky, sir.”
“Of course it’s risky,” he says. “Fortune favors the bold, correct? And it’s time for us to be bold. I’ll give you both twenty-four hours to pick your teams and then come back here tomorrow. We’ll go over your candidates, and then we’ll discuss logistics and support. And when it comes to support, you’ll have everything you need, with just one phone call or text. As commander in chief, I can get any branch of the military to assist you under any circumstances.”
The president leans back into the couch. “I’ve followed both of your careers over the years. You have the intelligence, toughness, experience, and … well, the perfect background and history of heartbreak to do what must be done. Any questions?”
Dozens of them,Noa thinks, but she doesn’t want to speak first.
She feels she’s spoken enough, and even though she has misgivings about what’s being offered to her, she is also relishing the thought of taking the fight to enemies who have set up camp within the nation’s borders.
Let Liam take the lead.
But Liam refuses to do so.
“No, sir,” he says. “I’m good.”
Noa says, “I’m good as well.”
President Barrett nods with satisfaction.
“Get out, get to work, and I’ll see you tomorrow. I’ll be supplying you both with an initial set of targets, complete with locations and defenses.” He adds a chilly smile. “I’ll also supply the salt.”
CHAPTER 11
A FEW MINUTES after Liam Grey and Noa Himel depart, President Keegan Barrett reviews his schedule for the day when the door to his office opens and Carlton Pope walks in. On the official White House organization chart, he’s listed as a “special assistant to the president,” which covers a lot of ground, water, and sky—exactly what Barrett wants.
Pope is stocky, heavyset, with a type of blocky body that makes Savile Row tailors toss up their respective hands in despair while trying to tailor a suit to fit. His prematurely gray hair is trimmed short, and his nose is round and misshapen, from a long-ago break that never properly healed.
He takes a seat in front of Barrett. Except for the Secret Service, Pope is the only one allowed to come into Barrett’s office without knocking first. Even Barrett’s chief of staff, Quinn Lawrence, isn’t allowed here without a warning phone call.
Pope says, “Well?”
Barrett says, “I think they’ll work out. They’re young, experienced, and dedicated.”
Pope smirks, and Barrett allows him that one look. Years ago, when Barrett was in the Army and on a still-classified mission toSerbia, Barrett had saved this man’s career and life, and in the ensuing years, Pope has diligently worked to pay back that debt.
Barrett always relies on the loyalty of others and is glad to pay it back.
He says, “All right, you ignorant peasant, pack that smirk away. Because of bad movies and past history, most people don’t realize that the CIA attracts the best and brightest, who’ll go to the extremes to perform their mission. It’s not the pay that drives them, and it’s sure as hell not the publicity. They do it because they’re dedicated to the Agency and this country.”
Pope says, “All right, I’ll take back the smirk. They both seem experienced … and that Noa.” He smiles. “A real looker.”
Table of Contents
- Page 1
- Page 2
- Page 3
- Page 4
- Page 5
- Page 6
- Page 7
- Page 8
- Page 9
- Page 10
- Page 11
- Page 12
- Page 13
- Page 14
- Page 15
- Page 16
- Page 17
- Page 18
- Page 19
- Page 20
- Page 21
- Page 22
- Page 23
- Page 24
- Page 25
- Page 26
- Page 27
- Page 28
- Page 29
- Page 30
- Page 31
- Page 32
- Page 33
- Page 34
- Page 35
- Page 36
- Page 37
- Page 38
- Page 39
- Page 40
- Page 41
- Page 42
- Page 43
- Page 44
- Page 45
- Page 46
- Page 47
- Page 48
- Page 49
- Page 50
- Page 51
- Page 52
- Page 53
- Page 54
- Page 55
- Page 56
- Page 57
- Page 58
- Page 59
- Page 60
- Page 61
- Page 62
- Page 63
- Page 64
- Page 65
- Page 66
- Page 67
- Page 68
- Page 69
- Page 70
- Page 71
- Page 72
- Page 73
- Page 74
- Page 75
- Page 76
- Page 77
- Page 78
- Page 79
- Page 80
- Page 81
- Page 82
- Page 83
- Page 84
- Page 85
- Page 86
- Page 87
- Page 88
- Page 89
- Page 90
- Page 91
- Page 92
- Page 93
- Page 94
- Page 95
- Page 96
- Page 97
- Page 98
- Page 99
- Page 100
- Page 101
- Page 102
- Page 103
- Page 104
- Page 105
- Page 106
- Page 107
- Page 108
- Page 109
- Page 110
- Page 111
- Page 112
- Page 113
- Page 114
- Page 115
- Page 116
- Page 117
- Page 118
- Page 119
- Page 120
- Page 121
- Page 122
- Page 123
- Page 124
- Page 125
- Page 126
- Page 127
- Page 128
- Page 129
- Page 130
- Page 131
- Page 132
- Page 133
- Page 134
- Page 135
- Page 136
- Page 137
- Page 138
- Page 139
- Page 140
- Page 141
- Page 142
- Page 143
- Page 144
- Page 145
- Page 146
- Page 147
- Page 148
- Page 149
- Page 150
- Page 151
- Page 152
- Page 153
- Page 154
- Page 155
- Page 156
- Page 157
- Page 158
- Page 159
- Page 160
- Page 161
- Page 162
- Page 163
- Page 164
- Page 165
- Page 166
- Page 167
- Page 168
- Page 169
- Page 170
- Page 171
- Page 172
- Page 173
- Page 174
- Page 175
- Page 176
- Page 177
- Page 178
- Page 179
- Page 180
- Page 181