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“I always like the bad news first.”
Holly took a deep breath. “Hurd Wallace is retiring as chief, and the new chief is Colonel James Bruno.”
Ham dropped the tongs he had been holding and bumped his head on the hot grill when he picked them up. “How the fuck did that pig happen here?” he demanded.
“Try and relax, Ham; it’s not a conspiracy.” She told him what Hurd had told her at lunch. “Promise me you’re not going to go down there and shoot him.”
“Don’t you think I have any self-control?” he asked.
“Yeah, sure.”
“I’ll wait until after dinner to go down there and shoot him.”
“That’s what I thought. I hope I didn’t ruin your supper, but you wanted the bad news first.”
“Tell me the good news; maybe it’ll help me get over it.”
“I got promoted.”
“To what?”
“Assistant Deputy Director of Operations-ADDO.”
“What was it you were before?”
“Assistant to the deputy director of operations.”
“There’s a difference?”
“Of course there is. Assistant to made me sound like a glorified secretary, though, of course, I was a lot more than that. Assistant deputy director means, I think, that I’ll have some authority of my own.”
“Authority to what? Assassinate people? Because if that’s the case, James Bruno ought to be your first hit.”
“No, no, Ham. It just means that when I give an order I don’t have to preface it with, ‘Lance Cabot asked me to tell you to…’ ”
“Does it mean that if Lance dies you get his job? Because if it does, I’ll shoot him for you.”
“No, it doesn’t, Ham, and I want you to get your mind off shooting people. You’ll screw up your digestion, and that chunk of cow you’re flaming is going to take a lot of digestion.”
“I guess Lance’s job is a lot of politics,” Ham said.
“You’re right, and Lance says I’m shitty at the politics. Not as shitty as he thinks I am, but I could do better, and I’m going to surprise him by doing it.”
“Pretty soon you’re going to have Kate Lee’s job,” Ham said.
“Not while Will Lee is president,”
Holly said. An act of Congress had allowed the president to appoint his wife, who was a career CIA officer, as director. Holly looked at Ham closely. “How’s your blood pressure?”
“Returning to normal,” Ham said, taking a swig of the Knob Creek. “Well, almost normal. I hope Bruno likes to fish, because if he does, I’ll catch him on the water and drown him.”
“Careful, the BP is going up again. Drink more bourbon.”
Ham did.
“You doing any flying?” Ginny asked, by way of changing the subject. Ginny ran her own flying school at the Vero Beach airport.
“No time,” Holly said. “I miss it, too.”
