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65
Susan tookone last deep breath, and hoped it wasn’t her last breath of freedom. The President had asked Miranda to ask her to make General Liú go away. But it wasn’t the right choice to create more rather than less stability.
The President had asked, through a civilian, so she wouldnotthink of it as an order but rather a recommendation. She was the one on the scene, she only hoped that it wouldn’t end her career.
Susan set Miranda’s phone in the middle of the table.
The others leaned in to look at the small screen.
Exactly as Miranda had done, she started at the image and scrolled slowly downward.
When the all-important owner / operator notation showed, Susan closely watched their reactions.
Drake Nason’s face went brilliant red with barely suppressed fury.
General Liú Zuocheng raised a single eyebrow in interest—the man’s control was immense.
Director Clarissa Reese was a study in emotions: shock, disbelief, a quick questioning glance that Susan answered with a nod worthy of Miranda’s surety, and then a fury as deep as Nason’s own.
“So,” Susan spoke into the stunned silence. “While the Chinese are in the clear, other than pushing the boundaries of international treaties against space-based weapons, it would appear that someone has hijacked the CIA’s own marginally legal weapon. How do we find out who did it?”
“What?” Nason twisted to look at her, then again to face Clarissa. “You didn’t do this?”
“Jesus, Drake.” Clarissa rolled her eyes. “What kind of a psycho do you think I am?”
“The kind who launches a space-based laser against all—”
Clarissa cut him off by waving a hand at Zuocheng.
“Hey, I’m not the only one. Jesus but you’re such a pansy, Drake.”
