Youâve done our country, and this administration, a world of good. I know itâs a lot to ask. But I think we need someone of your caliber on the oversight committee. You werenât involved in the operation, but you know as much about unmanned fighters as anyone in the world whoâs not directly involved.â
âI know a lot about the Flighthawks,â he told her. âSabres are different beasts.â
âThink it over. Please, Senator.â
âI will.â
âBest to your family.â
Zen had no sooner hung up than there was a knock at his door.
âCome on in,â he said, thinking it was Jason.
The second knock told him that it wasnâtâJason had a key. But now he had announced that he was there, and couldnât pretend not to be there.
âWho is it?â Zen asked.
âMina Toumi, from al Jazeera news service,â answered a woman. âI would like to ask a few questions, Senator.â
âIâm in my pajamas.â
âIt will only take a minute. And I donât have a camera, only a voice recorder.â
Al Jazeeraâthe Islamic news service based in the Middle Eastâhad been generally favorable to the uprising. But he knew that didnât make any difference now. He didnât know what she wanted to talk about, but he could easily guess.
Was there a way to duck out?
âGive me a second to get my robe.â
Zen fussed with his robe, pulling it tight. Then he realized that he really ought to have a witnessâhe sent a text to Jason and told him to come over to his room ASAP.
He rolled to the door, unlocked it, then moved back in the corridor.
âItâs open,â he said.
A young woman pushed open the door shyly. She was prettyâand young.
âI am sorry to bother you, Senator Stockard. I wanted a few questions about the incident.â
âIs that a French accent?â asked Zen.
âMy mother was from Lyon,â she said. She was standing in the doorway.
âTell you whatâmaybe I should get dressed and we can go somewhere a little more comfortable downstairs,â said Zen, feeling very awkward in his robe.
âOh.â
âCould you just wait in the hall a moment? It wonât take too long.â
She stepped back. Zen rolled himself inside and grabbed his clothes. A few minutes later Jason knocked on the door.
âSenator?â
âHang tight, Jay. Say hello to Ms.ââ
âToumi,â she said.
Zen dressed as quickly as he could. When he came out of the room, Jason and Mina Toumi were standing awkwardly on opposite walls, staring down at the carpet. For just a moment Zen forgot that the woman was a reporterâthey looked like they would make a fine couple.
âSenator Stockard, thank you for your time,â said Toumi. She pulled out a voice recorder and held it toward him.
âLetâs go downstairs where we can have a little more privacy. And you can sit down.â He started wheeling himself toward the elevator.
âI didnât know . . .â
Zen glanced at her and guessed what the problem was.
âYou didnât know I was in a wheelchair?â he asked.
âNo.â
âYup. For a long time.â He spun himself around and hit the button for the car. âIt was during a flight accident. A plane went left when it was supposed to go right. They tell me Iâm lucky to be alive.â
âBut, I heard you were an aceââ
âAn ace?â He laughed. âOh. Yes, I guess I am.â
âAn ace pilot,â she said. âThat you had been, before you were elected.â
âSenator Stockard is an ace,â said Jason, finally finding his voice, albeit a little awkwardly. âCertified.â
âJasonâs my flack,â joked Zen, using an old term for a press agent.
She didnât understand. âYou need a nurse?â
âIâm not a nurse,â blurted Jason.
Learning to Kill: Stories