table. “I’ll begin by welcoming our guest, Director Jakob Fredericks of the Strategic Services Council. He’s here to offer us his broad view of the international clandestine landscape.”
That’s
where I know this guy from. He’s one of the district’s biggest brainiacs. Fredericks runs his own think tank on K Street, but he used to be ExOps. In fact, he was my dad’s Front Desk, the same as Cyrus is for menow. Except Cyrus isn’t a self-centered, conceited son of a bitch. It’s been a while, but yeah, I recognize this guy now.
Fredericks briefly flashes a row of perfectly straight teeth. “Hello, everyone,” he says. “It’s good to be back where the action is.”
Next to me, Mom sniffs sharply. She retains a polite expression, but I can tell that she’s uncomfortable. There’s an awkward pause, then Fredericks says to me, “Alix, you remember me, don’t you? Your parents had me over for dinner a few times.”
Cleo answers, “I doubt she remembers, Jakob. That was a long time ago.”
Fredericks doesn’t shift his attention away from me. “Yes.” The look in his eyes makes me feel like a prize sow at the county fair. “It was.”
The drugs and the situation prevent me from summoning one of my charmingly sarcastic replies, so I simply say, “It’s good to see you again, Director Fredericks.”
He nods, pauses, then swivels in his chair. “All right, Ed, let’s see what you’ve got.”
Director Chanez stands in front of the blabscreen on the wall. “In the last twenty-four hours we’ve had two major incidents, both involving Scarlet here. Cleo, I know you’ve already filed your report on your kidnapping, but can you summarize it for us?”
“Yes, Director.” Mom leans forward. “They were Russians. The way they handled their weapons told me they were professionals, but there was something strange about how they carried out their mission.” She tells us that the team leader had to repeat his instructions to his men and how confused the group behaved after they took her to the unused office park in Quantico. Tasks weren’t clearly assigned, and it seemed like they hadn’t had time to rehearse.
Mom continues, “Just before the ExOps team arrived, I saw the kidnappers’ leader arguing with one of his lieutenants. I didn’t catch all of what they said, but I gotthe impression that they had been abandoned by their handler. The whole operation seemed poorly planned and rushed.” She leans back. Under the table, she wraps her fingers around my left hand.
Fredericks has pulled out a fancy silver pen. He slowly twirls it in his right hand. “Cleo,” he says, “am I to understand that you’ve been transferred from Administration to Operations?”
The muscles in Mom’s jaws tighten. “No, Jakob, but I’ve sat through enough meetings like this to know a blown op when I see one.”
Fredericks’s eyelids lower a little bit. “Of course.” He looks at Chanez and gestures for him to continue.
“Thank you, Cleo,” says Chanez. He reaches into the papers in front of him, plucks out a dossier, and reads from it. “Our after-action analysis of Cleo’s rescue found that all the competitors had been killed during the assault—” He glances at Cyrus, then at me. “—which was unfortunate.” Meaning ExOps couldn’t interrogate anyone because Raj and I pounded them all into guacamole.
Chanez picks up another sheet of paper. “The analysis of the firefight scene in Manhattan shows that none of the gunmen were captured or killed, but the pilots and crew of the helicopter perished during the event.” He flips a page and continues. “The wreckage of the helicopter was sifted, and the aircraft was traced to a military salvage facility in Tucson, Arizona. The records for this helicopter are incomplete, and an inquiry has been filed.” He flips the page again. “The remains of the two pilots and crewmen were examined, and their DNA was matched to the DNA records of four retired
That’s
where I know this guy from. He’s one of the district’s biggest brainiacs. Fredericks runs his own think tank on K Street, but he used to be ExOps. In fact, he was my dad’s Front Desk, the same as Cyrus is for menow. Except Cyrus isn’t a self-centered, conceited son of a bitch. It’s been a while, but yeah, I recognize this guy now.
Fredericks briefly flashes a row of perfectly straight teeth. “Hello, everyone,” he says. “It’s good to be back where the action is.”
Next to me, Mom sniffs sharply. She retains a polite expression, but I can tell that she’s uncomfortable. There’s an awkward pause, then Fredericks says to me, “Alix, you remember me, don’t you? Your parents had me over for dinner a few times.”
Cleo answers, “I doubt she remembers, Jakob. That was a long time ago.”
Fredericks doesn’t shift his attention away from me. “Yes.” The look in his eyes makes me feel like a prize sow at the county fair. “It was.”
The drugs and the situation prevent me from summoning one of my charmingly sarcastic replies, so I simply say, “It’s good to see you again, Director Fredericks.”
He nods, pauses, then swivels in his chair. “All right, Ed, let’s see what you’ve got.”
Director Chanez stands in front of the blabscreen on the wall. “In the last twenty-four hours we’ve had two major incidents, both involving Scarlet here. Cleo, I know you’ve already filed your report on your kidnapping, but can you summarize it for us?”
“Yes, Director.” Mom leans forward. “They were Russians. The way they handled their weapons told me they were professionals, but there was something strange about how they carried out their mission.” She tells us that the team leader had to repeat his instructions to his men and how confused the group behaved after they took her to the unused office park in Quantico. Tasks weren’t clearly assigned, and it seemed like they hadn’t had time to rehearse.
Mom continues, “Just before the ExOps team arrived, I saw the kidnappers’ leader arguing with one of his lieutenants. I didn’t catch all of what they said, but I gotthe impression that they had been abandoned by their handler. The whole operation seemed poorly planned and rushed.” She leans back. Under the table, she wraps her fingers around my left hand.
Fredericks has pulled out a fancy silver pen. He slowly twirls it in his right hand. “Cleo,” he says, “am I to understand that you’ve been transferred from Administration to Operations?”
The muscles in Mom’s jaws tighten. “No, Jakob, but I’ve sat through enough meetings like this to know a blown op when I see one.”
Fredericks’s eyelids lower a little bit. “Of course.” He looks at Chanez and gestures for him to continue.
“Thank you, Cleo,” says Chanez. He reaches into the papers in front of him, plucks out a dossier, and reads from it. “Our after-action analysis of Cleo’s rescue found that all the competitors had been killed during the assault—” He glances at Cyrus, then at me. “—which was unfortunate.” Meaning ExOps couldn’t interrogate anyone because Raj and I pounded them all into guacamole.
Chanez picks up another sheet of paper. “The analysis of the firefight scene in Manhattan shows that none of the gunmen were captured or killed, but the pilots and crew of the helicopter perished during the event.” He flips a page and continues. “The wreckage of the helicopter was sifted, and the aircraft was traced to a military salvage facility in Tucson, Arizona. The records for this helicopter are incomplete, and an inquiry has been filed.” He flips the page again. “The remains of the two pilots and crewmen were examined, and their DNA was matched to the DNA records of four retired
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