Sabotage by C. G. Cooper Read Free Book Online Page A

benefits of being a soldier. You rarely had to take politics into account. Since he'd met Brandon Zimmer, Cal had come to understand more fully how heavy the burden was when you truly had to take everyone's interests into account. Luckily that wasn’t Cal’s job.
     
    He was about to ask if they'd considered using any of the troops at Camp Lemonnier, maybe under the pretense of a training operation out in the boonies, but at that moment the president's head turned. He put up a finger for them to wait. He nodded to whomever had come in before saying, "Guys, I'm going to put you on mute for a second. Hold on."
     
     
    His head remained turned. Then Cal saw Zimmer's jaw tense. There was a curt nod, before he turned back to the screen. He unmuted the sound, his eyes hard now, and said, "Well it looks like the Chinese have made the decision for us. The Secretary of State just got an inquiry from the Chinese Ambassador asking why we have covert operatives conducting industrial espionage in Djibouti."
     
     

Chapter 7
     
     
    Those eyes—those damn eyes—bloodshot and yellow like someone had dripped red food coloring into a bulbous egg yolk. They burned into him—accusing and shaming him. He tried to wriggle away, tried to slap the unseen face, but he couldn't. He was just a kid again, his hands too small, ineffectual against the man's body. He felt his throat constrict, and then he smelled it, that awful smell. Like stale wine and onions. He winced and tried to turn away, but he couldn’t. The eyes kept following him, and then just like that, they were gone.
     
    It took Congressman McKnight a moment to realize where he was. Why did he have that dream? The smell and the eyes were so familiar. It had been his father—the damned drunk. If there had been an international prize given for worst father of the century, Tony McKnight was confident his dad would have topped the list of contenders.
     
    But why the dream now? His father was dead. He had a clear conscience about what he'd done. He'd only been a kid, but the decision was easy and one he never second-guessed.
     
    McKnight eased himself up from the hotel bed and blinked a few times to clear the vision that had been stamped in his brain like he'd stared into the sun too long. Now the smell had moved to a taste and it made him want to spit on the floor. He shook the thoughts away and tried to clear his head.
     
    Why that dream? Why now?
     
    He washed his face in the bathroom, brushed his teeth not once, not twice, but three times. The smell and the ambient taste of his father had finally left.
     
    Why now? McKnight thought. He was just slipping into a new T-shirt thinking that maybe a walk, or even a run, would do him some good when he heard a knock at the door. It was one of his always-present assistants. The only time he had to himself was in his hotel room, and even that wasn't sacred anymore. The staffer walked in without a greeting, already spouting off the morning's agenda. McKnight listened to him a moment, resisting the urge to bark at the boy, telling him to leave him alone.
     
    "Hold on," McKnight said calmly, "That first meeting - the breakfast."
     
    The staffer looked up, obviously peeved he had been interrupted. "Sir, the one with donor from Sedona?"
     
    "Yes that one," McKnight confirmed, "Reschedule it, and I want you to tell my security detail I've decided to go for a run."
     
    The look on the man's face was priceless. It was as if McKnight had just called his mother a no-good gold digger.
     
    "But sir, there's so much on the—we just— “
     
    McKnight did cut him off this time. "We've been going non-stop for weeks. I need a few minutes to myself. Make sure everyone else knows. Tell the security detail to be here in five minutes."
     
    He turned to find his running shoes, cutting off any further rebuff from the staffer. The kid did his job. Less than a minute later McKnight's phone dinged. The morning schedule, already reworked. Good. Maybe a