Hollywood Scream Play Read Online Free PDF Page A
Author: Josie Brown
The former intelligence director sanctioned every one of our missions. That being said, we’ll answer the committee’s questions within the boundaries of our missions’ security classifications.”
“By doing so, will we be able to stop Carl’s appointment?”
He rolls his forefinger from my palm to the crook of my elbow, where he lets it linger.
I’m always in awe of his tenderness.
“If he’s confirmed anyway, at least we will have done our best to put his actions on the record—without incriminating ourselves,” he continues, “and then let the chips fall where they may.”
It’s my personal mission to make sure they don’t land on Jack.
Otherwise, they will cost Carl dearly.
By the time we get to the Senate building, the hearing is already in session. The public gallery in the hearing room is chock-full of those whose livelihoods depend on securing a contract with any one of the sixteen elements of the US intelligence community, or the IC as it calls itself.
Besides the Central Intelligence Agency (CIA), there is a veritable alphabet soup of federal bureaus. The Department of Defense comes to the party with the largest posse, which includes the National Reconnaissance Office (NRO), the National Geospatial-Intelligence Agency (NGA), the National Security Agency (NSA), the Army Intelligence and Security Command (INSCOM), and the Drug Enforcement Administration (DEA).
There is also the Department of Energy’s Office of Intelligence and Counterintelligence (OICI), as well as the Treasury Department’s Office of Terrorism and Financial Intelligence (TFI). The State Department’s Bureau of Intelligence and Research (INR) is its liaison to this motley crew.
Etcetera, etcetera, etcetera.
The heads of all of these departments are here today. Frowny faces all around. I imagine there are a few sweaty palms as well. If not through personal experience, then certainly their own reconnaissance has made them well aware of Carl’s reputation as a rogue black-ops agent, a terrorist, and a man bent on revenge.
Welcome to my world, boys.
Have they been back-channeling what they know to the nominating committee? Do they understand that telling the truth is the only thing that will take him down, or will they play ball to save their own covert operations?
I pray the former, but if I had to bet, I’d put my chips on the latter.
Apparently the Senate Select Subcommittee on Intelligence’s chairman, Senator Vanna Ackerman, has already made her opening remarks because Carl is beginning his introductory statement:
“When President Chiffray asked me to be Director of National Intelligence, he made it emphatically clear that he wants someone who can build the intelligence community into an integrated team. He wants someone who will tell policymakers what they need to know, even if it isn’t what they want to hear. Lastly, he wants someone who knows how to get things done in a bipartisan, professional manner.” Carl’s arms open wide, as if he’s embracing the entire committee. “I am humbled by his nomination. Should I be confirmed, I will serve diligently and competently.”
Throughout his spiel, Senator Ackerman’s face has been frozen in an implacable stare. This moderate statesperson, who hails from a state as purple as her ill-fitting Armani suit, is known for being blunt in front of the press and a take-no-prisoners negotiator behind the Senate’s heavy oak closed doors, all of which bodes well for Team Acme.
Um…wait a minute. Maybe not. Suddenly there is a twinkle in her eyes. Her lips lift into a provocative come-hither smile.
Oh my God…
She’s flirting with Carl.
Proof is in the way she broaches her very first question— while toying with the string of pearls around her neck . “You’ve proudly served your country as a US Marine, have you not, Lieutenant Stone?”
Carl’s Mona Lisa smile is a show of modesty. “Yes, that’s correct, Senator. I feel my experience in the military –
“By doing so, will we be able to stop Carl’s appointment?”
He rolls his forefinger from my palm to the crook of my elbow, where he lets it linger.
I’m always in awe of his tenderness.
“If he’s confirmed anyway, at least we will have done our best to put his actions on the record—without incriminating ourselves,” he continues, “and then let the chips fall where they may.”
It’s my personal mission to make sure they don’t land on Jack.
Otherwise, they will cost Carl dearly.
By the time we get to the Senate building, the hearing is already in session. The public gallery in the hearing room is chock-full of those whose livelihoods depend on securing a contract with any one of the sixteen elements of the US intelligence community, or the IC as it calls itself.
Besides the Central Intelligence Agency (CIA), there is a veritable alphabet soup of federal bureaus. The Department of Defense comes to the party with the largest posse, which includes the National Reconnaissance Office (NRO), the National Geospatial-Intelligence Agency (NGA), the National Security Agency (NSA), the Army Intelligence and Security Command (INSCOM), and the Drug Enforcement Administration (DEA).
There is also the Department of Energy’s Office of Intelligence and Counterintelligence (OICI), as well as the Treasury Department’s Office of Terrorism and Financial Intelligence (TFI). The State Department’s Bureau of Intelligence and Research (INR) is its liaison to this motley crew.
Etcetera, etcetera, etcetera.
The heads of all of these departments are here today. Frowny faces all around. I imagine there are a few sweaty palms as well. If not through personal experience, then certainly their own reconnaissance has made them well aware of Carl’s reputation as a rogue black-ops agent, a terrorist, and a man bent on revenge.
Welcome to my world, boys.
Have they been back-channeling what they know to the nominating committee? Do they understand that telling the truth is the only thing that will take him down, or will they play ball to save their own covert operations?
I pray the former, but if I had to bet, I’d put my chips on the latter.
Apparently the Senate Select Subcommittee on Intelligence’s chairman, Senator Vanna Ackerman, has already made her opening remarks because Carl is beginning his introductory statement:
“When President Chiffray asked me to be Director of National Intelligence, he made it emphatically clear that he wants someone who can build the intelligence community into an integrated team. He wants someone who will tell policymakers what they need to know, even if it isn’t what they want to hear. Lastly, he wants someone who knows how to get things done in a bipartisan, professional manner.” Carl’s arms open wide, as if he’s embracing the entire committee. “I am humbled by his nomination. Should I be confirmed, I will serve diligently and competently.”
Throughout his spiel, Senator Ackerman’s face has been frozen in an implacable stare. This moderate statesperson, who hails from a state as purple as her ill-fitting Armani suit, is known for being blunt in front of the press and a take-no-prisoners negotiator behind the Senate’s heavy oak closed doors, all of which bodes well for Team Acme.
Um…wait a minute. Maybe not. Suddenly there is a twinkle in her eyes. Her lips lift into a provocative come-hither smile.
Oh my God…
She’s flirting with Carl.
Proof is in the way she broaches her very first question— while toying with the string of pearls around her neck . “You’ve proudly served your country as a US Marine, have you not, Lieutenant Stone?”
Carl’s Mona Lisa smile is a show of modesty. “Yes, that’s correct, Senator. I feel my experience in the military –