The Sum of All Fears.pdf - Delta Force

'Lucky him. Thanks. Flu, my ass,' Ryan said, after hanging up. The man was lazy.
. . . Fowler could play it one of two ways: 1, face-to-face, tell him that we
know what he's up to and we won't stand for it, that we will inform the proper
congressional people and . . . or, 2, just leak it to the press.
Option 2 would have all sorts of evil consequences, not the least of which would
be in Mexico. Fowler didn't like the Mexican president, and liked the PRI even
less. Whatever you said about Fowler, he was an honest man who loathed
corruption in all its forms.
Option 1 . . . Ryan had to report this to AI Trent, didn't he? He had to let
Trent know about the new operation, but Trent had his personal axe to grind on
trade issues, and Fowler would worry that he might be leaky on this issue. On
the other hand, could he legally not tell Trent? Ryan lifted his phone again.
'Nancy, could you tell the general counsel that I need to see him? Thanks.'
Next came SPINNAKER. What, Ryan thought, does Mr Kadishev have to say today . .
. ?
'Dear God in heaven.' Ryan forced himself to relax. He read through the complete
report, then stopped and read through it again. He picked up his phone and
punched the button to speed-dial Mary Pat Foley.
But the phone just rang for thirty seconds until someone picked it up.
'Yes?'
'Who is this?'
'Who is this?'
'This is Deputy Director Ryan. Where's Mary Pat?'
'In labor, sir. Sorry, I didn't know who you were,' the man's voice went on.
'Ed's with her, of course.'
'Okay, thanks.' Ryan hung up. 'Shit!' On the other hand, he couldn't be angry
about that, could he? He got up and walked out to his secretary's office.
'Nancy, Mary Pat's in labor,' Jack told Mrs Cummings.
'Oh, wonderful – well, not wonderful, it's not all that much fun,' Nancy
observed. 'Flowers?'
'Yeah, something nice – you know that stuff better than I do. Put it on my
American Express.'
'Wait until we're sure everything's okay?'
'Yeah, right.' Ryan returned to his office. 'Now what?' he asked himself.
You know what you have to do. The only question is whether or not you really
want to do it.
Jack lifted his phone again and punched yet another speed-dial button.
'Elizabeth Elliot,' she said, picking up her direct line, the one known only to
a handful of government insiders.
'Jack Ryan.'
The cold voice grew yet colder. 'What is it?'
'I need to see the President.'
'What about?' she asked.
'It's a secure phone, Ryan!'
'Not secure enough. When can I come over? It's important.'
'How important?'
'Important enough to bump his appointment schedule, Liz!' Ryan snapped back.