Red Cell Seven by Stephen Frey Read Free Book Online Page A

please.”
    Connie glanced nervously at the bed and the table beside it. “Mr. President, I’m not supposed to leave you at any—”
    “Connie, if I collapse these men will get you back in here very quickly. They don’t want my death on their shoulders either, okay?”
    “Yes, sir.”
    “But don’t go far.”
    “No, sir.”
    “And over there,” the president went on, pointing at the man who was sitting in a wingback chair a few feet away, “is Stewart Baxter, my new chief of staff.”
    “We met Stewart at Walter Reed a few weeks ago,” Bill reminded Dorn. “He was there that day we came to see you.”
    “Oh, right, of course.” Dorn’s grin faded as he watched Connie leave the Oval Office. “Stewart is replacing Rex Stein, God rest his soul.”
    Baxter had a full head of snow-white hair, but other than that and a few shallow lines at the corners of his thin-lipped mouth, he looked extremely fit for a man who was almost sixty. His skin had a healthy glow to it, and there was no paunch above his belt.
    “Hello, Stewart,” Troy said in a friendly tone as they shook hands. Baxter’s expression was locked in an arrogant smirk, as it had been at the hospital. “Good to see you again.” Baxter had a reputation in Washington as a man who got things done. Still, not many people liked him. Troy understood why. He gave off a very negative vibe. “I trust you’ve been well.”
    “Did I meet you that day?” Baxter asked as if he wasn’t really interested, not bothering to get up from his chair to shake hands. “I remember your father but not you.”
    Impossible, Troy figured. It hadn’t been that long since they’d met, and an Oval Office chief of staff was trained to remember everyone. Baxter was simply trying to establish dominance. It seemed like everyone in Washington was always doing that. Like everyone here was part of some inept wolf pack. It was one of the main reasons Troy hated this city. Everything here was about image, not results.
    “I want to thank both of you for coming all the way down here today from Connecticut.” The president pulled the jacket he was wearing tighter around his thick sweater as he glanced out the window behind the desk into the cold, gray afternoon. “I know this is a sad day for you two. For me, too,” he added. “I’m sorry for your loss.”
    Bill nodded solemnly as he and Troy eased into the two chairs positioned in front of the big desk. “Thank you, Mr. President.”
    “It was Jack who called Rex Stein on the platform in Los Angeles. That’s why Rex ran to me at the podium. Jack called him just in the nick of time.” The president glanced from the window to Troy. “Right?”
    Troy nodded. “And if it weren’t for Jack, that LNG tanker would have made it all the way to Virginia. And I mean all the way to the beach.”
    “So many people would have died,” Dorn murmured, looking past Troy.
    “Including a lot of military personnel at our naval base there,” Bill said.
    “Rex and Jack are heroes.” Dorn pointed at Troy. “You are, too, son.”
    “Thank you, sir, but I—”
    “I should have been better to Rex,” Dorn said. “He was right all along about me needing to be more careful, but I ignored him. I should have given him more credit. If I had, he might still be alive. I’ll have to deal with that for a long time.”
    Troy glanced at Baxter, who didn’t seem swayed at all by the emotion in Dorn’s voice. He was picking at his fingernails and didn’t seem at all interested in his boss’s sentiment.
    The president grimaced. “I learned a great lesson.” He held up a hand. “I’m not trying to say I’m turning into Ronald Reagan, George W. Bush, or Attila the Hun. But maybe there’s more of a place for Red Cell Seven in our intelligence structure than I thought. In fact, maybe it should be one of the cornerstones from now on.” Dorn took a deep breath. “Jack was an inspiration for me in terms of changing my thinking on