he thought sourly. The years had piled up on him, and some days-like today-he could feel every grain of sand in the hourglass burying him slowly, surely. Atlas with bowed shoulders.
The DCI shuffled through some papers, held one to the light. "The chief of D.C. Metro's called, ditto the FB fucking I." His eyes bored into Lerner's. "You know what they wanted, Matthew? They wanted to know if they could help. Can you beat that? Well, I can.
"The president phoned to ask what the hell was going on, if we were under attack by terrorists, if he should head for Oz." Another name for the Hidden Seat of Power, the secret place from which the president and his staff could run the country during a full-fledged emergency. "I told him everything was under control. Now I'm asking you the same question, and by God I'd better get the answer I want."
"In the end, we return to Bourne," Lerner said, reading from the hastily prepared research notes his chief of staff had thrust into his fist just moments before the meeting convened. "But then the recent history of CI is riddled with snafus and disasters that somehow always have their origin with Jason Bourne.
"It pains me to say I told you so, but this whole mess could've been avoided had you kept Lindros here at HQ. I know he was once a field operative, but that was some time ago. The animal edge is quickly dulled by administrative concerns. He's got his own shop to run. Who's going to run it if he's dead? The Cevik debacle was the direct result of Typhon being without a head."
"Everything you say is true, dammit. I never should've allowed Martin to talk me into this. Then disaster upon disaster at Ras Dejen. Well, at least this time Bourne won't disappear off the grid."
Lerner shook his head. "But I have to wonder whether that's enough."
"What d'you mean?"
"There's more than a fair chance that Bourne had a hand in Cevik's escape."
The Old Man's eyebrows knit together.
"You have proof of this?"
"I'm working on it," Lerner said. "But it stands to reason. The escape was planned in advance. What Cevik's people needed to do was to get him out of the cage, and Bourne accomplished that quite efficiently. He's nothing if not efficient, this we already knew."
The Old Man slammed his hand on the table. "If he's behind Cevik's escape, I swear I'll skin him alive."
"I'll take care of Bourne."
"Patience, Matthew. For the moment we need him. We must get Martin Lindros back, and Bourne is now our only hope. After due consideration, the Operations Directorate sent the Skorpion Two team in after Skorpion One, and we lost them both."
"With my contacts, I told you I could gather a small unit-"
"Of freelancers, former NSA operatives now in the private sector." The DCI shook his head.
"That idea was DOA. I could never sanction a bunch of mercenaries, men I don't know, men not under my command, for such a sensitive mission."
"But Bourne-dammit, you know his history, and now history is repeating itself. He does whatever the hell he wants whenever it suits him and fuck anyone else."
"Everything you say is true. Personally, I despise the man. He represents everything that I've been taught is a menace to an organization like CI. But one thing I know about him is that he's loyal to the men he bonds with. Martin is one of those. If anyone can find him and extract him, it's Bourne."
At that moment, the door swung open and Anne Held poked her head in.
"Sir, we have an internal problem. My clearance has been busted. I called Electronic Security and they said it wasn't a mistake."
"That's right, Anne. It's part of Matthew's reorganization plan. He felt you didn't need top clearance to do the work I give you."
"But sir-"
"Clerical staff has one set of clearance priorities," Lerner said. "Operational staff another. Neat and clean, no ambiguities." He looked at her. "Still a problem, Ms. Held?"
Anne was furious. She looked to the Old Man, but realized at once that she'd get no help from that quarter. She saw his silence, his complicity, as a betrayal of the relationship she'd worked so long and hard to forge with him. She felt compelled to defend herself, but knew this was the wrong time and place to do it.
She was about to close the door when a messenger from Ops Directorate came up behind her. She turned, took a sheet of paper