Breaking point - By Tom Clancy & Steve Perry & Steve Pieczenik Page 0,72
to do. Very serious thinking.
Quantico, Virginia
Alex had gone off to see the director, and Toni took the opportunity to go to the gym. It wasn’t as big as the rooms in the main FBI compound, but she didn’t need much space. And early as it was, she was the only person there.
Nobody had gotten around to cleaning out her locker—there was still a pair of sweats and a sports bra folded neatly there, along with her Discipline martial arts shoes, and, by chance, the clothes were still clean, though a little stale. She shook everything out and dressed, then padded into the gym. She could have worked out in her street clothes, she made a point of doing that every so often, but since she didn’t have any clean ones to change into afterward, that would have to wait for another time. If you couldn’t do it in your ordinary wear, it didn’t matter how terrific a move was; if you couldn’t use it when you needed it, it was pointless for self-defense. In a streetfight, you wouldn’t have time to take off your shoes, get dressed in your gi, nor ten minutes to stretch and warm up. Sweats and limbering exercises saved wear and tear on your clothes, muscles, and joints in the long run, that was why you did them, but they were luxuries, not necessities—
“Toni?”
She looked up and saw Jay. “Hey, Jay.”
“Boss around?”
“He had to go see the Dragon Lady.”
“Okay, I’ll call him.” He was in a hurry. He turned and started to leave.
“What’s up, Jay?”
He paused. “You knew they found John Howard shot in the woods across the road from the HAARP compound?”
“Yeah.”
“He was choppered to a hospital in Anchorage, and it looks like he’s gonna be okay.”
“Thank God.”
“Yeah. He was supposed to be on vacation with his family. How’d he get to Alaska?”
Toni shook her head. Here was another problem for Alex, one he didn’t need.
He needed her. But she couldn’t go back to work for him. She couldn’t.
Madam Director Allison was royally pissed. In her shoes, Michaels might have felt the same way, but he wasn’t in her shoes, he was in his, and they were getting real damp from nervous sweat.
“And you felt you couldn’t pass this along to me? I had to find it out from some other agency?”
He sat in the chair in front of her desk and nodded. “I didn’t see the need. Four federal marshals went to pick up one desk-jockey scientist. I met the man. He could hardly stand up without losing his balance. He had no history of violence, no record of having purchased weapons. I asked John to go along to keep us in the loop. It was a milk run.”
“Yes, a run that turned into the milkman taking a bullet in the pelvis under the edge of his vest, and your meek scientist disappearing, not even to mention the head of your military arm taking a round.” She looked at the flatscreen on her desk. “According to the guards at this HAARP place, Morrison wasn’t alone. He was accompanied by a Dr. Dick Grayson. His identity turns out to be bogus.”
Despite the situation, Michaels smiled.
“Something funny about that I’m missing, Commander?”
“Dick Grayson is the secret identity of Batman’s side-kick, Robin.”
“Yes, well, ‘Robin’ is likely the man who plugged the marshal, along with John Howard, on his way out of town. The rest of the arrest team managed to gather themselves enough to pick up the trail. Morrison and his gun-toting friend took a small cart through the woods, cut a hole in the fence, and were presumably picked up by accomplices. The marshals found an armed dead man next to the hole in the fence, shot in the heart. No ID on the man.
“There were signs that a car had left the road and plowed into the fence fifty yards away. The marshals called in the state police, and a few minutes ago a shot-up Ford Explorer was found at an old airstrip. There were three bullet holes in the windshield, five more holes in the back loading gate and bumper, and another dead man in the front seat. No identification on him, either. Probably Howard’s work.”
“Huh,” Michaels said.
“Oh, you can do better than that, Commander. You are supposed to be playing with computers. You are supposed to be finding and busting pirate ships in the Gulf peddling Viagra and steroids and diet pills over the internet without prescriptions, or hunting down teenaged hackers who