hidebound bureaucracy of the army, or its abysmal quality standards for new recruits. When Godin appeared, he'd offered her a job she had wanted all her life but hadn't believed existed.
She would receive $700,000 a year to work as chief of security for special projects for Godin Supercomputing. The salary was immense, but Godin was a billionaire. He could afford it. Her conditions of employment were unique. She would follow any order he gave, without question and without regard for legality. She would not reveal any information about her employer, his company, or her employment. If she did, she would die. Geli could hire her own staff, but they would accept the same conditions and penalty, and she would enforce that penalty. She was amazed that a public figure like Godin would dare to set such terms. Then she learned that Godin had found her through her father. That explained a lot. Geli had hardly spoken to her father in years, but he was in a position to know a lot about her. And she could tell by the way Godin looked at her that he knew something about her as well. Probably the stories that had filtered out of Iraq after Desert Storm. Peter Godin wanted a security expert, but he also wanted a killer. Geli was both.
John Skow was not. Unlike Godin, who had fought as a marine in Korea as a young man, Skow was a theoretical warrior. The NSA man had never seen blood on his hands, and around Geli he sometimes acted like a man who'd been handed a leash with a pit bull on the end of it.
"Geli?" Skow said again. "Are you there?"
"Dr. Weiss went to Tennant's house," she said into her headset.
"Why?"
"I don't know. We got almost none of their conversation. They're on their way to the Fielding house now. Lu Li Fielding called him. Upset."
Skow was silent for a moment. "Going over to comfort the grieving widow?"
"I'm sure that will be their story." She wanted to gauge Skow's level of anxiety before giving him more details. "Do we let them go in?"
"Of course. You can hear everything they say, right?"
"Maybe not. There was a problem with the bugs at Tennant's house."
"What kind of problem?"
"Tennant put putty over the mikes. And there was a video camera set up on a tripod in there. No tape in it." She let that sink in. "Either he wanted to say something on tape that he didn't want us to hear, or he wanted to talk to Dr. Weiss without us hearing. Either way, it's bad."
She listened to Skow breathe for a while.
"It's all right," he said finally. "We're going to be okay on this."
"You must know something I don't, sir."
Skow chuckled at the contempt with which she said "sir." The NSA man was tough in his own way. He had the detached coldness of mathematical intelligence.
"The perks of leadership, Geli. You did well this morning, by the way. I was amazed."
Geli flashed back to Fielding's corpse. The termination had gone smoothly enough, but it was a stupid move. They should have taken out Tennant as well.
She could easily have manipulated both men into the same vehicle, and after that . . . simple logistics. A car accident. And the project wouldn't be in the jeopardy it was in now. "Has Tennant actually talked to the president, sir?"
"I don't know. So keep your distance. Monitor the situation, but nothing more."
"He also took a delivery from FedEx. A letter. Whatever it was, he took it with him. We need to see that."
"If you can get a look at it without him knowing, fine. Otherwise, talk to FedEx and find out who sent it."
"We're doing that."
"Good. Just don't—"
Geli heard Skow's wife calling his name.
"Just keep me informed," he said, and rang off.
Geli closed her eyes and began to breathe deeply. She had made the case to Godin for taking out Tennant along with Fielding, but the old man had resisted. Yes, Godin conceded, Tennant had broken regulations and spent time with Fielding outside the facility. Yes, Tennant had supported Fielding's effort to suspend the project. And it was Tennant's tie to the president
Douglas Preston, Lincoln Child