Iron Orchid

“Sounds good,” Lance said. “I’ll call a meeting and assign you everybody who isn’t already following another lead. But I warn you, if we get something new, I’ll pull off as many people as it takes to run it down.”

The new assignment was received in stony silence by the group of eighteen unassigned agents in the conference room. Lance made his little speech, then turned the meeting over to Holly and left.

“Questions?” Holly asked.

“Yeah, just one,” an agent said, raising his hand. “Are you nuts?”

“Have you got a better idea?” Holly asked. “Have you got another lead? Are you too busy for this?”

The agent looked at the ceiling, and nobody else spoke.

“All right, listen up,” Holly said, and she began reading a list of names from a clipboard. “You’re being issued concealed cameras; the lens can be worn in a lapel or on the brim of a baseball cap. We’re looking for full-frontal shots, here, folks, no backs of heads or pulled-down hat brims. We need faces, got it? Isn’t intelligence work fun?”

She got back a collection of grumblings she was glad she couldn’t quite hear.

FORTY-ONE

WILL LEE, AT THE END of his daily national intelligence briefing, dismissed everyone but Kate Rule of the CIA and Bob Ki

MIDEAST U.N. EMBASSIES CLAIM CIA

IS MURDERING THEIR DIPLOMATS

Both nodded.

“Just for the record,” the president said, “tell me the CIA is not murdering Mideast diplomats.”

“The CIA is not murdering Mideast diplomats,” Kate said. “I believe you know who is murdering them.”

“I believe I do,” Will said, “and I’m getting very uncomfortable about knowing it. If this continues, we’re going to have to a

Bob Ki

“Well, Bob, you can always hope, but I’ve dug myself a hole, here, based on the advice of the two of you, and nobody’s getting me out of it. How close are we to arresting Fay?”

“About as close as we were when we thought he was dead,” Kate said glumly.

“All right, Madam Director,” Will said, “I want you to issue a statement, through your spokesperson, saying, as dryly as possible, that the CIA is not murdering Mideast U.N. diplomats. Let’s have that denial on the record, and be sure this guy at the Times gets the message. But I have to tell you both, I don’t know how much longer we can continue keeping a lid on the Teddy Fay story. I’ve had two calls from congressional leaders this morning, and they’re squirming in their seats, believe me. As much as I dread doing it myself, I don’t want one of them to be the one to break this to the press.”

“Yes, sir,” both directors said in unison.

LATER THAT MORNING, Kate Rule sat in a meeting in her conference room with the deputy directors for Intelligence and Operations and their deputies.

“All right,” Kate said, “let me have your reports on your internal investigation into who might be helping Teddy Fay with his little crusade.”

Hugh English, deputy director for Operations, spoke up. “Director, I’m going to let Irene Foster, who personally conducted the investigation, bring you up to date.”

Kate turned and looked at the handsome, middle-aged woman across the table from her. “Irene?”

“Director, under my supervision, every department head in the building has conducted an in-depth investigation of every cha

“Director,” Hugh English said, “I’ve reviewed every aspect of Irene’s investigation and I’ve found it to be thorough and complete. I’ll stand by it, too.”

Kate stared at English and Foster. “You are absolutely certain about your conclusions?”

“To a great deal more than a reasonable certainty,” English replied.

“Then where is Teddy Fay getting his information?” Kate asked.

“Director,” Irene said, “Fay could be compiling this information from multiple sources-half a dozen agencies have bits and pieces of what he is learning-but the only other agency that has it all is the FBI. My reluctant conclusion is that the Bureau is the source of Teddy Fay’s information, and my report so states.”

“Great,” Kate said. “Bob Ki

“You want me to put it to Ki

Kate sighed. “No, Hugh, I’ll save that treat for myself.”

Irene Foster stood and handed Kate a thick document. “Director, here is my written report. There’s an eight-page summary of the work up front, detailing the steps I took; the rest is substantiation: copies of interviews and polygraph tapes.”

“Thank you, Irene,” Kate said. “That will be all, everybody.”

The group shuffled out of the conference room, and Kate walked back into her office, picked up her phone and spoke to her secretary. “Please get me Director Ki

A moment later her phone buzzed and she heard a male voice. “Kate? It’s Bob.”

“Bob,” Kate said, trying not to sound weary, “can I buy you lunch over here today?”

“What’s up, Kate?”

“Something I’d rather tell you about when you’ve got half a bottle of wine in you. I’ll even send a chopper; you’d like that, wouldn’t you?”

“I don’t fit very well in helicopters, Kate,” Ki

Kate sighed. “There’s good news and bad, Bob. The good news is we’ve conducted an extraordinary, in-depth internal investigation, involving thousands of employees and hundreds of polygraphs, plus an audit of everybody’s computer time, and the only conclusion we can come to is that Teddy Fay is not getting his information from the CIA.”

There was a long silence on the other end of the phone.

“Bob?”

“I’m still here, Kate. I take it that what you’re telling me is that Fay has somebody in the Bureau who’s feeding him stuff?”

“I’m afraid that’s the best conclusion we could come to, based on the evidence. You can go ahead and blow, now.”

“Kate, I’ve just come from a meeting with all my deputy and assistant directors who’ve been investigating this matter Bureau-wide. They’ve handed me a thick report on their investigation, and to give you the short version, they have determined that Fay’s information could not possibly be coming from anyone at the Bureau or from our computers. Their best recommendation is that it’s coming from the Central Intelligence Agency.”

There was a short silence, then both of them burst out laughing.

____________________

TEDDY FAY RODE DOWN the escalator into the East 63rd Street subway station and stood on the platform with twenty other people, waiting for the next train. A minute and a half later, there was a rush of cool air and a rumble as the train squealed to a slow halt.

As the last moving car trundled past where Teddy waited, he caught a glimpse of a familiar face and figure aboard the car. The next car stopped where he stood, and the doors opened.