gun range. So, in fact, Kyle did owe Dixon in perpetuity, and both women knew it.
Dixon hit the retrieval switch. The punctured paper target fluttered as it sped toward the shooting bay on a whirring steel cable. It snapped to a stop just inches away from her.
“Aggressive shooting, Senator. I assume this has something to do with POTUS?”
“Indirectly, yes.”
Kyle nodded at the shredded target. “Nothing quite so dramatic as that, I hope.”
Dixon laughed. “Just venting some frustrations.”
“So long as I don’t have to break into the Oval, I’m okay with whatever you have in mind. So, what is it?”
Dixon pinched the spring-loaded clips that held the target in place. “You know Ryan’s a Boy Scout. He has very specific ideas about his own versions of right and wrong.”
“Sure. I’ve seen him in action.”
“Well, I have it on good authority he’s terribly interested in me at the moment. He sees me as a political threat, and I know he’s looking to find dirt on me, any way he can.” Dixon laid the target on the gun table while she spoke.
“Is there any dirt for him to find?”
“No, of course not. But he will look, and as you know, anything he finds, even if it’s clean, can be turned to mud if put in the proper hands in the media.”
“So how can I help?”
“Put on his shoes for a minute and answer me this: If you were Ryan and your high-minded morals wouldn’t let you use federal resources like the IRS or the FBI to dig for dirt on your political opponent, how else would you do it?”
“He’s a pretty damn good analyst all on his own, as I recall,” Kyle said.
“I doubt he has the time.”
Kyle tapped her chin with a red-lacquered nail, thinking. “There’s an outfit that Gerry Hendley runs, Hendley Associates. Have you heard of it?”
“Yes. It’s a top drawer financial firm. Hendley was a legend on the Hill—still is, really. The senator and I conferred on a few bills together when I was still in the House before he . . . well, you know.”
Kyle nodded. She was an officer on patrol duty when she first heard the news that Gerry Hendley’s wife and three children had been killed in a horrible collision with a tractor-trailer on I-85. Torn up by the tragedy, Hendley effectively threw away his Senate career in a halfhearted reelection bid he lost badly. After he recovered his bearings, he eventually founded Hendley Associates. Despite being a lifelong Democrat, Hendley worked hard on behalf of the Ryan administration while he was in the Senate, willingly crossing the aisle on matters of national security, putting petty partisanship aside for the common good.
“I’m glad he landed on his feet,” Dixon said. And she meant it. She had admired Hendley back in the day and though he was no longer in office, he was still a force on the Hill. “It’s a first-rate firm, according to my husband. But how does that answer my question?”
“Hendley employs a guy by the name of John Clark. Do you know anything about him?”
Dixon shook her head. “Should I?”
“He’s a former Navy SEAL, ex-CIA. He’s getting a little long in the tooth, but he’s a guy you definitely don’t want to fuck with—pardon my French—and he’s a friend of Ryan’s.”
“Why does a financial firm employ an ex-spook? Security?”
“That would be my guess. Probably for Hendley.”
“Or someone else employed there.”
“Are you thinking about someone in particular?”
“Jack Ryan, Jr., is a financial analyst there.” Dixon felt a tingle on the back of her neck. That would be another direct link to President Ryan. And a retired operator like Clark had other implications. She frowned. Maybe Senator Chadwick really had been onto something.
Kyle nodded. “I’ll get right on it.”
Dixon folded up the decimated target and pocketed it.
“If Hendley Associates is after me, I want to know about it. But be discreet. I don’t want Gerry to know you’re sniffing around. There would be hell to pay if he found out.”
“Understood, ma’am.”
19
ALEXANDRIA, VIRGINIA
Jack carefully placed his folded clothes into the carry-on backpack. The weather in the southern hemisphere was turning warmer and he didn’t want to check any bags, especially on a commercial flight with multiple transfers.
His phone rang in the other room. He checked his watch. It was Gerry. Jack popped in his AirPods as he tapped his phone.
“Hi, Gerry. What’s up?”
“Just rereading the report you sent over last night. Had a few questions. Am I interrupting anything?”