James P. Hogan by Endgame Enigma Read Free Book Online Page B

went by without there being one, the more he worried that because weapons were constantly getting bigger and deadlier, it would be so much the worse when it did. He worried especially about things he didn’t know about, and so tried to keep himself informed about everything. That made him good with details and a useful person to have around, which helped explain how he had made it to a senior position on the staff of the defense secretary. And the position suited him, for if worse did come to worst, he would prefer to be right there in the center of the action – not able to influence the course of events very much, perhaps, but at least knowing what was going on.
    As he drove toward the Potomac on his way to the Pentagon on the morning of May 4, an inner foreboding told him that this was the beginning. He wasn’t sure why, for there had been enough diplomatic goofs and intelligence screwups before, and this was hardly the first time the Soviets had nailed a couple of agents. Maybe it was the involvement of Mermaid, which had been taking on such big proportions in everyone’s thinking lately. But something about the situation filled him with the dull, cold certainty that this was the first tripping over the edge into the scrambling, steepening tumble that would take them all the way to the Big One.
    Because he worried about being late whenever he had an appointment, he always left early. Hence, none of the others had arrived yet when he got to Foleda’s office. He found Foleda’s operations assistant, Barbara Haynes, a tall, graying but elegant woman in her late forties whom he knew well, and Rose, Foleda’s personal secretary, discussing something being displayed on a screen in the outer room. The strains of some piece of classical music coming through the open door at the rear – Kehrn had no idea what it was; he preferred jazz himself – indicated that Foleda was already ensconced within.
    “We heard there was a snarl-up on the George Mason Bridge,” Rose said. “Didn’t think you’d make it so soon.”
    “A vegetable truck decided to unload itself there,” Kehrn said. “But I left in good time. It wasn’t so bad.”
    “Well, at least the rain’s stopped.”
    “I’m glad I came in the other way this morning,” Barbara said.
    “Who’s out there?” Foleda’s voice called from inside.
    “Gerry Kehrn,” Barbara called back.
    “Tell him to come on in. And you might as well come too, Barb. Let’s get our thoughts together before the others start showing up. And now Volst” – who was the secretary of state —” has just been on the line saying he wants a report on the whole thing personally over lunch before the big meeting starts this afternoon. I’ve got the feeling this is gonna be a long day.”
    Kehrn went on through, and Barbara followed after exchanging a few final words with Rose. Foleda touched a button below his desk to cut the music and pushed aside some papers he had been reading. “Hi, Gerry.”
    “Good morning, Bern. Or is that the wrong thing to say today?”
    “Why should it be? – It’s stopped raining. Sit down. Relax. You look worried.”
    Kehrn pulled out one of the chairs at the meeting table set at a tee against Foleda’s desk and sat down, placing his briefcase in front of him. Barbara shut the door. “Who wouldn’t be worried?” Kehrn said. “What a goddamn mess.”
    “A million years from now it won’t matter,” Foleda assured him.
    “Who else have we got coming this morning?” Kehrn asked.
    “Pearce and somebody else from State. Zolansky from Operations. Do you know him?”
    “We’ve met.”
    “Uh-huh. And Uncle Phil will be coming in at around eleven to see where we’re at.” Philip Borden was the UDIA director. Foleda sent an inquiring glance at Barbara.
    “Zolansky’s deputy will probably be coming too,” she said, sitting down at the far end of the table.
    “But keep your party-joke book in your pocket, Gerry,” Foleda advised. “They