The Kingmaker - By Brian Haig Page 0,3

just left my office?"

"I can guess."

"No--I don't think you can. That was the interagency working group that's supposed to assess how much damage Morrison wrought. Those were the chiefs of counterespionage from the CIA and the FBI, from NSA and DIA and State, and a few agencies I never heard of. They climbed deeply up my ass. They are incensed that an officer of the United States Army betrayed his country in ways you can't possibly conceive. An Army officer, damn it . . . a general officer. They warned me that I had better not make a single mistake in handling this case." He paused very briefly. "Does that help you understand why I have reservations about you?"

I nodded. Why make him explain it?

He drew a deep breath and added, "Sean, you're a good attorney, but this case is just too damned sensitive. I'm sorry. You're the wrong man."

Well, right, I nodded again--truly, I did agree with him on this point.

"Good." His expression turned friendlier, and a fatherly hand landed on my shoulder. "Now, you fly back out there and tell Morrison why you can't possibly be his lawyer. Tell him not to worry, we'll provide one of our best."

He looked me in the eye and that fatherly hand dropped off my shoulder. "Damn it, do you have any idea what you're getting into?"

"Something about a spy case, isn't it?"

He ignored my sarcasm. This was a wise course. Encourage me and it only gets worse.

I'm not ordinarily predictable, but Clapper has known me long enough to appreciate my peccadilloes. Back when he was a lowly major, he actually instructed a dim-witted new infantry lieutenant named Drummond on the fundamentals of military law. He also happens to be the shortsighted fool who later persuaded the Army to allow me to attend law school and become a JAG officer.

You could argue, therefore, that this situation was his fault. Past sins do come back to haunt you.

Struggling to sound reasonable, he said, "Look . . . Sean . . . when the CIA and FBI first approached me with their suspicions and evidence on Morrison, I nearly choked. They've been watching him for months. They have him dead to rights."

"Well, good. All I'll have to do is strike the best deal I can get. Any idiot lawyer can do that. What are you worried about?"

Judging by his expression, a lot. "At leasttry to see this from my perspective. We're dealing with Russia on this counterterrorism effort, not to mention the ongoing oil talks and nuclear arms reductions and a hundred other sensitive negotiations. The administration doesn't want a dustup with Russia over this case. You see that, right?"

"Yes, General, I see that, but he asked for me, and he has the right to choose his representation," I reminded him, less than subtly, for the third time.

There's the old saying "No man is above the law" that applies even to two-star generals, a sort of divine provenance, or whatever. I had pushed this point as far as was healthy, and it was time to await the verdict.

He finally said, "All right, damn it. It's yours."

"Very good, thank you, sir," I replied, doing my perfect subordinate imitation, which, really, considering the audience and the moment, was a wasted effort. "Oh, I, uh, I have one other request."

"What?"

"I need a co-counsel."

"Fine. Submit your request and I'll consider it."

"Karen Zbrovnia," I immediately replied.

"No," he immediately responded.

"Why not?"

"She's already committed."

"So pull her off. You said yourself, this is the biggest case going."

"I can't."

"Yes sir, you can. Sign the right piece of paper and, poof, it happens. And I'm formally requesting you to. Ineed Zbrovnia."

His lips curled up. "Well, you see, she's already assigned to the prosecution."

We stared at each other a long moment. Karen Zbrovnia was one of the top assassins in the JAG Corps: brilliant, confident, occasionally ruthless--oh, and a nice ass, if you're the crass type who notices such things. More important for my purposes, her parents were Russian emigres and had taught her to speak like a Moscovite.

Losing her, however, wasn't my biggest concern. I asked, "You've already formed the prosecution?"

"The prosecution nearly always comes in early in espionage cases. Zbrovnia and her boss have been approving everything for months. They have to live with the evidence, right?"

Well, yes . . . right. Was it worth noting that I also had to live with that evidence? Or how much of an advantage the prosecution had been handed after being involved in this case for

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