The Sum of All Fears.pdf - Delta Force

'Those punks ever come back?' Jack asked.
Clark just turned and grinned. For several months after Carol took the business
over, some local toughs had taken to hanging out at the store. They had objected
to a Laotian woman and her mixed-race kids owning a business in the semi-rural
area. Finally she had mentioned it to Clark. John had given them one warning,
which they had been too dense to heed. Perhaps they'd mistaken him for an
off-duty police officer, someone not to be taken too seriously. John and his
Spanish-speaking friend had set things right, and after the gang leader had
gotten out of the hospital, the punks had never come near the place. The local
cops had been very understanding, and business had taken an immediate twenty
percent increase. I wonder if that guy's knee ever came all the way back? Clark
wondered with a wistful smile. Maybe now he'll take up an honest trade . . .
'How are the kids doing?'
'You know, it's kinda hard to get used to the idea of having one in college,
Doc. A little tough on Sandy, too . . . Doc?'
'Yeah, John?'
'Pardon my saying so, but you look a little rocky. You want to back it off a
little.'
'That's what Cathy says.' It occurred to Jack to tell Clark to mind his own
business, but you didn't say that sort of thing to a man like Clark, and
besides, he was a friend. And besides that, he was correct.
'Docs are usually right,' John pointed out.
'I know. It's just a little – a little stressful at the office. Got some stuff
happening, and – '
'Exercise beats the hell out of booze, man. You're one of the smartest guys I
know. Act smart. End of advice.' Clark shrugged, and returned his attention to
the morning traffic.
'You know, John, if you had decided to become a doc, you would have been very
effective,' Jack replied with a chuckle.
'How so?'
'With a bedside manner like yours, people would be afraid not to do what you
said.'
'I am the most even-tempered man I know,' Clark protested.
'Right, no-one's ever lived long enough for you to get really mad. They're dead
by the time you're mildly annoyed.'
And that was why Clark was Ryan's driver. Jack had engineered his transfer out
of the Directorate of Operations to become a Security and Protective Officer.
DCI Cabot had eliminated fully twenty percent of the field force, and people
with paramilitary experience had been first on the block. Clark's expertise was
too valuable to lose, and Ryan had bent two rules and outright evaded a third to
accomplish this much, aided and abetted by Nancy Cummings and a friend in the
Admin Directorate. Besides, Jack felt very safe around this man, and he was able
to train the new kids in the SPO unit. He was even a superb driver, and as
usual, he got Ryan into the basement garage right on time.
The Agency Buick slid into its spot, and Ryan got out, fiddling with his keys.
The one for the executive elevator was on the end, and two minutes later, he
arrived at the seventh floor, walking from the corridor to his office. The