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

that.”
    “And with all due respect, sir,” Troy spoke up, “the ironic part about what you just said is that Jack might have been even more liberal than you.”
    “You’re the hawk,” the president spoke up, nodding at Troy. “Don’t think I didn’t spot that salute to the arrows.”
    “Of course I am.” Troy had thought the president was looking at Baxter when he’d saluted the arrows. “You know that.” He glanced at Baxter. Dorn had mentioned Red Cell Seven by name a few moments ago. He wasn’t supposed to have told Baxter anything about the files Bill had given him. But he must have broken that promise. “And you know why, Mr. President.”
    “Yes, I—”
    “Jack wasn’t actually your son, was he, Bill?”
    Troy’s eyes raced back to Baxter. It was the first time Baxter had spoken, other than to greet them. In his peripheral vision, Troy saw his father’s posture go defensive.
    “What are you talking about?” Bill asked. “He was absolutely my son. He is my son.”
    “He wasn’t your natural son,” Baxter went on. “He wasn’t your blood. See, that’s what I’m getting at.” The chief of staff gestured at Troy. “Not like Troy is. Jack was your wife’s natural son, but not yours.”
    “No. He wasn’t,” Bill agreed tersely.
    “And what ever happened to Rita Hayes?” Baxter continued. “She was your executive assistant at First Manhattan for so many years. Why’d she quit so suddenly, and where did she go? No one can seem to find—”
    “What’s your point, Stewart ?” Troy interrupted. When they’d shaken hands, Baxter hadn’t reacted well to a man thirty years his junior addressing him by his first name. So Troy did it again, this time loudly.
    “Yes, Stewart,” President Dorn echoed. “What is your point?”
    “We did background checks on you two before you came down here today,” Baxter answered, as though none of this should be a big deal and he didn’t see why everyone was getting so irritated. “Thoroughly, I might add.” He shrugged. “I’m just making certain we’re all on the same page, okay?”
    “Okay,” Bill snapped. “Let’s do that. Let’s make certain we’re all on exactly the same page.” He gestured at the president. “Sir, Mr. Baxter should not be in here while we discuss Red Cell Seven. And this is nothing personal. This is not because of what he just said.”
    “I’m the president’s chief of staff,” Baxter countered, glaring at Bill. “I’ll stay in here if I choose to. And in this case, I do. In fact, it’s critical that I stay, given the subject matter.”
    “Then Troy and I are leaving, Mr. President,” Bill stated, starting to rise from his chair. “I will not discuss this topic in front of anyone but you, sir. It’s that simple.”
    “No, no,” Dorn spoke up quickly. “Sit down. Please, Bill.” He glanced at Baxter. “I’m sorry, Stewart, but you’ll have to leave.”
    “What?”
    “I have to trust Bill on this.”
    Baxter clenched his jaw as he stared back at the president. Finally he stood up and stalked across the carpet.
    When he reached the door, he turned back and pointed at Troy. “Don’t let these cowboys put on their Red Cell Seven Stetsons any time they want to, Mr. President. Rope them in, like you were going to before you were shot. We can’t allow RCS to keep operating without putting some significant constraints on it. If we don’t, these guys will get this country in a lot of trouble.”
    “T HOSE PEOPLE are idiots,” Kaashif said. “They couldn’t interrogate their way out of a paper bag.”
    “Don’t be so sure,” the man driving the pickup truck warned.
    “One of them was so stupid he used a real name during my interrogation.”
    “How do you know?”
    Kaashif rubbed his stomach. It was bothering him a little. “The other one became very angry when the name was spoken.”
    “What was the name? Do you remember?”
    “Uh, I think it was Major Trav.”
    “That sounds like a