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“What’s to discuss? The analysis you delivered today was total crap and everyone in the room knows it. Other than you, apparently.”
Bunting gazed once more at the people around the table. Not a sympathetic face in the bunch. “I answered every question and every follow-up question. I didn’t get a standing ovation, but I left nothing hanging, either.”
Foster leaned forward. “In your contract renewal you’ve asked for an increase of twenty-three percent based on a variety of factors.”
Bunting shot a glance at Quantrell, who was shaking his head and making clucking sounds.
“Madame Secretary, with all due respect, one of my main competitors is sitting in this room. That information was delivered in confidence to—”
“I’m sure we can rely on Mr. Quantrell’s professionalism.”
Bunting wanted to say, What professionalism? He’s a slimeball and you know it. But instead he said, “Every single cost increase is justifiable. My people spent months cranking the numbers. And they worked with the government side on all of it, so there’re no surprises in there.”
“While we in Washington have the reputation of being a blank check with a rubber stamp, some of us do like to get what we pay for.”
Though nearly a foot taller than the woman, Bunting now somehow felt much smaller than Foster. “I think we bring considerable value to the table.”
“Frankly, I gave you a chance, Peter. You blew it.”
“I spoke with the president,” Bunting said hastily and then instantly regretted it.
She compressed her lips. “Yes, I know. Neat little end-around. But all it bought you was a little time. Nothing more.”
Foster looked around the room. “I think that concludes the meeting. Mr. Quantrell, if you would join me in my office, I have some important matters I’d like to discuss.”
She left the room with Mason Quantrell following.
As the room cleared Bunting stood there for a few moments staring down at the useless briefing book in his hand. When he finally did leave no one looked at him as he passed little conversation groups in the hall. Foster had done her work well, it seemed.
He waited outside her office until she came out with Quantrell.
“May I have a word, Madame Secretary?” Bunting asked.
She gazed at him in mild surprise. “I have a full schedule.”
“Please, just a minute.”
Quantrell looked amused. “I’ll talk to you later, Ellen.” He slapped Bunting on the shoulder. “Cheer up, Pete. You can always come back to work for Mercury. I understand we need a geek in the IT Department.”
Quantrell walked off and Bunting turned to Foster.
“Well?” she said. “Make it quick.”
He drew closer. “Please don’t do it.”
“Do what?”
“The preemptive action.”
“Good God, Bunting,” she hissed. “You’re talking about this out in the damn hallway? Have you lost your mind?”
“Just give me a little more time.”
She looked him up and down and then closed her office door in his face.
* * *
On the drive back to the airport, Bunting noted the inconspicuous building set at the end of a strip mall. And the brick structure that backed up to a suburban neighborhood. Then there was a building that looked like it was made of all glass but that in reality had not one window in the place. These were all footprints of intelligence gathering. They were stuck like splinters into pieces of the outside world and most of the people passing by them had not the remotest idea what went on inside of them.
