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“In each of your rooms there are books and a television set with satellite service. You may entertain yourself, alone, in your room between dinner and bedtime. If you complete your training successfully, your assignments thereafter may involve long periods alone or with hostile companions. Learn to enjoy solitude.
“There will be no question-and-answer period. Good luck.” Hanks stalked off the stage.
Everyone sat still for a moment, waiting for further instructions. None came. Holly got up and started off for the first class on her schedule.
THREE
ROBERT KINNEY ARRIVED at his office at the Federal Bureau of Investigation promptly at nine a.m., still warm from the praise of the president at the news conference of the day before, announcing the resolution of the Theodore Fay affair, and from the extended sexual activity with his paramour, Nancy Kimble, following his proposal of marriage, which had been accepted.
His secretary, Helen Frankel, was just hanging up the phone as he walked past her desk. “Stop where you are,” she ordered.
Kinney stopped. “What?”
“That was the White House on the phone. The president wishes to see you immediately.”
“Right now?”
“Mr. Kinney,” Helen said, sighing.
“Okay, immediately is right now.”
“There’ll be a White House car waiting for you by the time you get to the garage.”
Kinney turned on his heel and headed for the garage. As he was entering the elevator, someone shouted his name. He turned to see one of his agents, Kerry Smith, walking rapidly toward him. “Later, Kerry,” he said, and the elevator door closed before Smith could reply.
There was, indeed, a White House car waiting for him in the garage. He folded his six-foot-five-inch frame into the rear seat, and twenty minutes later he was sitting in the office of Cora Parker, the president’s secretary.
“It won’t be long, Mr. Kinney,” Parker said. “Would you like some coffee?”
“Yes, thank you,” Kinney replied.
“As I recall, you take it black with a carcinogenic,” she said, walking to a coffee pot nearby.
“I wouldn’t put it quite that way, but yes,” he replied.
“That stuff will eat your insides out,” she said.
“If that were true, Ms. Parker, I would have no insides.”
She handed him the cup. “If you don’t have time to finish it here, just take it in with you,” she said.
Kinney took a sip of the coffee, then looked up as the door to the oval office opened. His boss, the director of the Federal Bureau of Investigation, stalked out of the office, red-faced and blinking rapidly. He glanced at Kinney, and his expression changed to one of hatred, then he was gone.
“You may go in now, Mr. Kinney,” Parker said.
Kinney stood up and tried to figure out what to do with his briefcase and the coffee in his hand. He set the coffee on her desk and walked into the Oval Office.
William Henry Lee IV, president of the United States, stood up to greet him. “Good morning, Bob,” he said, extending a hand.
Kinney shook it. “Good morning, Mr. President. I didn’t expect to see you again so soon.”
Lee waved him to a sofa and took a chair opposite him, while Cora Parker set down Kinney’s coffee on a table next to him.
“Well, events move quickly sometimes,” the president said. “Once again, my congratulations on wrapping up the Fay affair so well.”
“Thank you, sir.” Kinney didn’t bother with any self-deprecating talk about the teamwork involved, since he considered himself principally responsible for the outcome.
“Anything new on the search for wreckage and a body?”
