Jane fussed alongside Vincent all the way to the Director’s office. Had he not stopped and insisted she wait for him outside of the office, she would have followed him in.
“Remember if you even feel the slightest unwell, just give me a call and we’ll get the doctor here,” she whispered in his ear as she handed him his file.
“Ah Vincent, you made it!” chastised the director of CIA, Vincent’s boss.
“Yes Charles, sorry I’m late,” he offered taking a seat next to the other directorate heads.
After a perfunctory run through of previous meeting action points, they moved on to new business. Each ran though their current areas of concern and issues they believed needed to be brought to the group. Vincent considered, as it neared his turn, alerting them to, if Mike were correct, the greatest risk to democracy since, well, ever. However, as the Director of the Intelligence Division took the floor, all hell broke loose. Yet another disaster in the pass-off of intelligence from the CIA to Homeland and the FBI had resulted in a terrorist cell fleeing the country. The CIA Director adjourned the meeting and headed for the phone. He’d spend the next few hours in heated debates with the Head of the FBI, Homeland and would no doubt involve the President. If nothing else, to cover his ass.
Jane stood and rushed over as Vincent exited the office. He threw her a look of don’t even think about it, as she was going to offer him her arm for support. He handed her his file to cover her action.
“Any news?”
“Sean called, they’re about to board the flight!” she replied.
“How did he manage that?” asked Vincent.
“He said he charmed him!” said Jane with a smile, believing Sean could charm anyone. Sean in her eyes could do no wrong.
“Bullshit, he bloody well told him!” replied Vincent.
Jane looked at him as though he was being unfair.
Vincent nodded to the clock on the wall. “They weren’t scheduled to leave 'til five. They’re leaving two hours early! He’s definitely told him,” he explained.
“What’s next?” he asked.
“Rest and the doctor!” she replied firmly.
“I don’t think so!” he replied. “There is far too much happening!”
She left his side and walked back to the Director of the CIA’s PA, a good friend of hers. “Hi Shirley, can I have a quick minute with Charles, please?”
“Of course,” she began to check his diary and eyed Vincent carefully.
Vincent caught her eye and accepted her terms. She won. If he didn’t, she would be in telling Charles about his minor heart attack and would be out the office for at least a month on doctor’s orders. He didn’t have time to be sick.
“Oh, it’s OK Shirley, he’s busy, another time,” she said with a smile.
“Are you sure, Dear, I’ll get you in there!” she promised throwing Vincent a look of disgust.
Jane caught the look and suddenly realized Shirley must have thought she wanted to complain about Vincent’s behavior. Why else would she be wanting a meeting with Charles?
“Good God, no!” she laughed patting Shirley’s arm before catching up with Vincent and leading him back to the office.
“Sean’s on an eleven hour flight and you are going to sleep for each and every one of them,” she ordered. Closing the blinds in his office as the doctor checked his heart rate and blood pressure.
As the fussing stopped, he closed his eyes and was rewarded with the sound of his office door closing. Peace at last he thought. Eleven hours to work out how he was going to keep Sean from prison. A prospect that was dwindling. An email had arrived from the US Attorney’s office, detailing the name of the prosecutor who would be leading the case and requesting a time and date for Sean to be arrested on his return from Moscow. The speed with which they were moving was stunning and added credence to the warning he had received earlier, to say his goodbyes to Sean. All of this was, of course, academic. Unless he succeeded in Moscow.