The Golden Hour Read Free Page A

could—”
    Parker interrupted abruptly. “But in your expert opinion, Ryker, does it matter? Would it make a difference? Does the United States need to find ways to intervene more rapidly in emerging crises in the developing world? Can we prevent more wars and coups by reacting more quickly?”
    Judd looked around the room at all the eyes locked on him.
My numbers don’t answer that question. Isn’t that what you guys are here for?
    But instead he sat up straight, turned to look Landon Parker directly in the eyes, and said simply, “Yes.”
    —
    And that was it. A few thank-yous and handshakes, and everyone left. Judd’s escort took him down the same elevator and out to the lobby. He dropped his orange security badge into a clear plastic container with a slot at the top, not too dissimilar from the ballot boxes he’d seen used for voting in Nigeria. He walked back down Twenty-second Street for one more look at Einstein and to hail a cab.
    The return trip to Ronald Reagan National Airport was only seven minutes. He might even catch an earlier shuttle back to Logan. As the taxi drove behind the Lincoln Memorial and over a bridge, he thought he might just make it back to Amherst in time for class.
    Once in Virginia, the cab looped around and headed south, down the George Washington Parkway along the Potomac River. Judd looked over the water at the Washington Monument. For a brief flash, between the trees, he could even make out the Capitol building off in the distance.
    The park along the riverbank was mostly empty, save a few joggers and an attractive young woman walking a yellow Labrador. Behind the dog walker, two dark green army helicopters in tight formation banked sharply over the river, then turned to the west and flew directly over Judd’s taxi. Turning in his seat to follow their course, he noticed, sitting low and squat, a colossal stone-colored office building surrounded by an ocean of parked cars. The Pentagon.
    The exit for Reagan was almost immediate. As he stood inthe security line and waited to take off his shoes, he wondered whether any of this was worth it.
All this effort for ten minutes in a conference room?
    Settling into a chair in the departure lounge, he was reminded of his old professor and advisor, BJ van Hollen, who had urged him to take an interest in public service. His mentor had even offered to help Judd find a good job inside the U.S. government applying his analytical skills to solving real-world puzzles. Professor van Hollen had been openly disappointed when Judd opted for the academic life.
    At least I have a good story for BJ. He’ll be impressed the State Department called me. Why not?
    Judd pulled out his phone and dialed a number. After several rings, a weak raspy voice answered, “Huuhh-looooo?”
    “BJ? Is that you?”
    “Yes,” was the soft reply, followed by a series of coughs so loud and violent that Judd was forced to hold the phone away from his ear. “Who’s this?”
    “It’s Judd. Sorry to call you out of the blue. You sound terrible.”
    “I know. I’ve been a little sick.”
    “I didn’t know. Is it serious?”
    “No, no. It’s nothing like that. And don’t say anything to Jessica. It’ll just worry her. We don’t need that.”
    “Guess where I am.”
    “Here in California?”
    “No. Sorry, I didn’t mean that. I’m in Washington, D.C. I just finished briefing the State Department on my conflict metrics.”
    “Oh, really? That’s excellent news.”
    “They called me.”
    “It’s about time, too. I’m very proud. I’m sure Jessica is very proud.”
    “They were really interested in the Golden Hour. Asked lots of tough questions. I just thought you’d be pleased I was helping do something real.”
    “I am,” said van Hollen before unleashing another barrage of coughs.
    “BJ, you sound like you’re dying. I hope you’re seeing a doctor.”
    “At my age, I’m seeing too many doctors. I’m tired of it. Judd, congratulations on the State