Conspiracy Read Free Page B

the stairway instead. Amanda descended all the way to the bottom floor, where the stairwell opened tothe outside. She turned and pushed the crash bar with the side of her hip, then walked around to her car.
    Amanda didn’t begin to cry until she was almost to her hotel. The tears slipped down her cheeks in ones and twos. Then, as she waited to turn into the parking lot, they burst from her eyes in a steady downpour.
    The driver behind her laid on the horn. Startled, Amanda went straight instead of turning, accelerating and then hitting her brake to pull into the lot of a Friendly’s restaurant. She left the car running but leaned her head on the wheel to weep.
    Why did he kill himself? Why? Why?
    Why did he have her wait for him?
    Why? Why?
    And why had she snuck away, as if she were guilty of something? As if she were the killer?
    She couldn’t leave him like that. She should call the police.
    But they’d want to know why she was there. And then everyone would know why she was there. It would be one more thing that would hurt his sons.
    And the police would want to know why she didn’t report it in the first place. They’d want to know why she let herself in and then left. It would look like she was a murderer.
    She could go back, she thought. Do it all over. No one had seen her.
    She should do that for him. Not let him lie there for hours until he was found.
    Amanda did her best to dry her tears. She decided she would go back, get into the room, and make the call. Everything would be more or less as it had really happened—except she wouldn’t mention that she had left.
    And she’d put the keys back, the room key and the car key. She’d completely forgotten about them.
    Her resolve melted when she saw two police cars in front of the hotel, their red lights tearing up the night.
    Now what should she do?
    She looked back at the road just in time to see a policeman flagging her down. She slammed on the brake and jerked to a stop right in front of him.
    Were they looking for her? Did they suspect her?
    God, no one would believe her if she told the truth.
    Why did you run if you had nothing to hide? You panicked? What professional law enforcement officer, what Secret Service agent, ever panics?
    She hadn’t panicked.
    Yes. Yes, she had.
    Amanda reached to roll down her window, waiting for the inevitable question, waiting for everything that would follow. Then she realized that the policeman was simply stopping traffic. There was an ambulance coming from the other direction, siren on and lights flashing.
    It’s too late. Much, much too late.
    I should follow it in, she thought. But when the officer pointed at her and waved her on, she complied.

 
6
    â€œSO, MR. RUBENS , you don’t believe that the National Security Agency should spy on Americans?”
    William Rubens took a slow breath before answering, very conscious that he was being set up.
    â€œOur job is to provide intelligence, Senator,” the NSA’s deputy director said. “We have strict guidelines for gathering and disseminating information, and we follow them.”
    â€œBut you believe that Americans should be spied on.”
    â€œSenator, my role is to follow the law regardless of what I believe,” said Rubens. “And no, as a personal matter, I do not believe that.”
    Senator Gideon McSweeney smiled broadly, looking around the committee room as if he had just scored some massive point.
    â€œAnd was the law followed in the so-called American Taliban case?” McSweeney asked.
    â€œSpeaking for my agency’s actions, absolutely.”
    â€œWithout qualification?”
    â€œThe law was absolutely followed. No qualifications.”
    The senator paused, looking down at the papers in front of him.
    â€œDid you obtain subpoenas before gathering your intelligence?” McSweeney asked finally.
    Rubens leaned back in the chair. Ordinarily his boss, NSA Director Admiral Devlin