deep your feet will never touch bottom. Are we clear?"
"It might surprise you to know, that would piss me off, too."
"That would surprise me." Clearly we were both getting on each other's nerves; the difference was I was enjoying it.
Phyllis interrupted our little pissing contest, and said to Waterbury, somewhat dryly, "Explain what you mean by correspondence."
"We really don't know. Daniels was a senior employee. He had leeway to operate independently."
Phyllis skillfully allowed Waterbury a moment to reconsider his position, then suggested in a sly tone, "Mark, I think it would be in our mutual interests to pool our efforts and get to the bottom of this. Don't you?"
Still staring at me, Waterbury replied, "Are you giving me a choice?"
"Drummond just explained your choice."
Of course, he had to get in his last licks, and insisted, "Here's the terms. Whatever we find goes to the Secretary of Defense for disposition. There is a war on, and if Daniels did something harmful to . . . that effort . . . it must be weighed against the larger needs of national security. Take it or leave it."
He made a threatening glower at Phyllis, then at me. I'm not overly Pollyannaish about the public's right to know, but I meant every word I said to Waterbury. My brothers and sisters in arms were getting blown to pieces over there. Depending on what I found, I would make up my own mind about how to deal with it.
I turned to Waterbury and assured him, "Sounds good to me." Of course my fingers were crossed.
Phyllis, displaying more honesty than I, insisted, "Whatever we find will also go to the Director. I will abide with his decision."
Waterbury studied her face, and although it went against his obvious grain, he nodded. Phyllis said, "Good. Please allow me a moment to speak with Drummond."
Waterbury and Bian stood. They left the room, and the door closed with a loud crack.
Phyllis smiled at me and said, "You handled that well."
"He's a dimwit."
"And don't you underestimate him," she replied sharply. "He won't be so easily dealt with if you don't have him by the balls." She added, "I'll do my best to watch your back, but you had better watch your own ass."
Either my coarse soldier talk was starting to rub off on Phyllis or she was taking it down a notch to make sure the message got through. I have that effect on people. Anyway, I already had figured out that my future dealings with Mr. Waterbury were likely to be stormy, perhaps hazardous.
There was something I did not understand, however. "What's going on here? What has Waterbury all worked up?"
"You don't know?"
Obviously not.
She said, "I've already told you that Daniels was career DIA. Here's what I didn't mention. In the run-up to the war, as you might've read in the newspapers, the Office of the Under Secretary of Defense for Policy decided it did not like, or perhaps trust, the intelligence the Agency was providing the White House. They therefore formed their own small intelligence cell to . . . in their words, to vet and decipher the intelligence on Iraq. This cell had a straight pipeline to the Secretary of Defense, and via him, to the White House."
"And Daniels was part of this cell?"
"Yes. A founding member." Phyllis continued, "Now the question Congress wants answered is who cooked up the evidence that led our nation to war on phony premises. Specifically, the Iraqi nuclear progress that turned out not to exist. The stockpiles of chemical weapons that have never been found. The terrorist connections that haven't materialized. The White House and the Pentagon have been madly leaking to the press and pointing their fingers at us. Clifford Daniels knew where the truth is buried. Follow his path and you shall learn that truth."
"And the truth shall set you free."
"Not this time." She stared off into the distance a moment, contemplating how much to tell, or not to tell me. She eventually said, "Bear this in mind also. Lord knows what Daniels has been involved in since the war started. With luck, it's possible you might uncover that as well."
"Would that be good luck or bad luck?"
"You'll know when you find it."
"Phyllis, this isn't doing it for me."
"Well, then ask anything you like."
"Are we talking espionage? Was Cliff Daniels betraying our country?"
When she made no reply, I said, "I need you to clarify this."