Call to Treason by Tom Clancy, Steve Pieczenik, Jeff Rovin Page A

the hours he spent at Op-Center, was asking him to help the son of her boyfriend get an internship there. And she happened to make her request on a day when Hood had been ordered to lay people off. Bob Herbert once said that CIA stands for Convergent Incongruities Abound. That certainly applied here.
        "Does he have any particular interests?" Hood asked. He did not really care, but he needed to think for a moment. Did he really want to do this?
        "He is a student of languages and maps," she said. "He speaks French and is learning Japanese. In fact, he's been teaching Harleigh basic Japanese grammar. But he would be happy to work anywhere, in any capacity."
        "I'll ask around," Hood told her. He would, he decided, though Op-Center rarely used interns, and only then as favors to influential members of Congress. "I just want you to know we had some major cutbacks today. So it may be difficult to place him."
        "He wouldn't require compensation."
        "I understand," Hood said. "What I mean is that people are going to be preoccupied."
        "Okay," Sharon said. By the way she dragged out the second syllable Hood could tell she was not happy with that answer. "Can I have a time frame? If Frankie can't intern with you, he'll have to look into other places."
        "Give me a day or two to see how the new landscape looks."
        "A day would be good," Sharon said. "That will give us time to explore other options. Thanks."
        She did not ask about the layoffs. To her, Op-Center was The Enemy. It had been the rival for her husband's affection. Now it was like an organ donor, dead except for whatever his former wife needed from it.
        Sharon had also said "us" not "Jim." Hood was a little jealous, not because Sharon had found someone but because she was involved in Jim's life. She was engaged in a way she had never been with Hood's work, she was simpatico. Even the kids were hitting it off. He should have been glad for them all, but he was not.
        They chatted a little about the kids. Sharon said that Harleigh seemed to be doing better and had actually picked up the violin again.
        Alexander was playing too many computer games, listening to too much rap, and not paying enough attention to his grades. Hood said he would stop by and have a talk with him Tuesday or Wednesday. Sharon said Tuesday would be fine, that she was helping Jim on a catering job that night. Then she hung up.
        Hood actually envied Sharon. She had an old friend to go to, someone who had known her even longer than Hood. For all he knew, Jim Hunt may have gotten divorced because he learned that Sharon was free.
        Hood sat back and listened to the quiet. A decibel lower, and it would be death. Rodgers probably had not spoken to anyone about what happened, but intelligence people knew when the geometry of a room had changed. That was their job.
        Hood wished he had someone to talk to. He had never felt more alone than he did at this moment. And he suspected that there were going to be rough hours ahead, when Lowell Coffey and Darrell McCaskey and especially Bob Herbert found out about the cutbacks. And the loss of Mike Rodgers.
        Hood had never been one for self-pity. Adults made choices and lived with the consequences. But he had never been cut off from a support system.
        That was how I ended up marrying Sharon, he reminded himself. Nancy Jo had left him, and he married the first woman who made him forget the hurt. Unfortunately, Sharon did not fill the void.
        He wanted to talk to someone. Not a professional but a friend.
        Hood considered calling Ann Farris. The former Op Center press liaison had pursued Hood for years. Hood was married while Ann worked there, and after the divorce, there was no danger, no edge to the relationship. There was only Ann's need. Hood did not care for the divorced young mother enough to be with her, which was why he did not