Line of Control Read Free

under a gentleman you respect."
        Malachai Rodgers was right. The only reason Mike Rodgers had taken the deputy director's position was because he never expected Paul Hood to stay at Op-Center. Rodgers assumed that the former Los Angeles mayor was a politician at heart who had eyes on the Senate or the White House.
        Rodgers was wrong. The general hit another big bump in the road when Hood resigned from Op-Center to spend more time with his family.
        Rodgers thought Op-Center would finally be his. But Paul and Sharon Kent Hood weren't able to fix what was wrong with their marriage. They separated and Hood came back to Op-Center. Rodgers went back to being number two.
        Rodgers needed to command. A few weeks before, he and Hood had ended a hostage siege at the United Nations. Rodgers had directed that operation. That reminded him of how much he enjoyed risking everything on his ability to outthink and outperform an adversary. Doing it safely from behind a desk just was not the same thing.
        Rodgers turned to the open door a moment before Bob Herbert arrived.
        Op-Center's number three man was always announced by the low purr of his motorized wheelchair.
        "Good morning," Herbert said as he swung into view.
        "Good morning. Bob," Rodgers replied.
        "Mind if I come in?" "Not at all," Rodgers told him.
        Herbert swung the wheelchair into the office. The balding, thirty-nine-year-old intelligence genius had lost the use of his legs in the Beirut embassy bombing in 1983. The terrorist attack had also taken the life of Herbert's beloved wife. Op Center computer wizard Matt Stoll had helped design this state-of-the-art wheelchair. It included a computer that folded into the armrest and a small satellite dish that opened from a box attached to the back of the chair.
        "I just wanted to wish you good luck," Herbert said.
        "Thanks," Rodgers replied.
        "Also, Paul asked if you would pop in before you left," Herbet said.
        "He's on the phone with Senator Fox and didn't want to miss you."
        Rodgers glanced at his watch.
        "The senator is up early.
        Any particular reason?"
        "Not that I know of, though Paul didn't look happy," Herbert said.
        "Could be more fallout over the UN attack."
        If that were true then there was an advantage to being the number two man, Rodgers thought. He did not have to put up with that bullshit.
        They had absolutely done the right thing at the United Nations. They had saved the hostages and killed the bad guys.
        "They're probably going to beat us up until the secretary general cries uncle," Rodgers said.
        "Senator Fox has gotten good at that," Herbert said.
        "She slaps your back real hard and tells your enemies it's a lashing.
        Tells your friends it's a pat on the back. Only you know which it is.
        Anyway, Paul will deal with that," Herbert went on. He extended his hand.
        "I just wanted to wish you well.
        That's a remote, hostile region you're heading into."
        Rodgers clasped Herbert's hand and grinned.
        "I know. But I'm a remote, hostile guy. Kashmir and I will get along fine."
        Rodgers went to withdraw his hand. Herbert held it.
        "There's something else," Herbert said.
        "What?" Rodgers asked.
        "I can't find out who your contact man is over there," Herbert said.
        "We're being met by an officer of the National Security Guard, Captain Prem Nazir," Rodgers replied.
        "That's not unusual."
        "It is for me," Herbert insisted.
        "A few calls, some promises, a little intel exchange usually gets me what I want. It lets me check up on people, make sure there isn't a double cross on the other end. Not this time. I can't even get anything on Captain Nazir."
        "To tell you the truth, I'm actually relieved that there's tight security for