Tasked with protecting an Agency whistleblower who informed on the White House and exposed presidential wrongdoing, Kevin Mada, the CIA’s stalwart Director of Security, must navigate a minefield of political schemes and venal ambitions, from without and from within, while fulfilling his larger mission of protecting the Agency itself, and ultimately, the United States of America, from all enemies, foreign and domestic! Book 2 of the CIA Series.
Despite the lateness of the hour, Grace Tunny-Baxter’s personal assistant was still at his desk in her outer office. She hated that, but knew he wouldn’t leave until she did. She also hated the fact that her security detail had to remain in the building while she was here instead of going home to their families, but right now this is where she had to be because this was her fiefdom, her center or power, at least for the moment, until the political winds shifted against her. And at least while she was Director of the United States Central Intelligence Agency (still colloquially referred to by insiders as The DCI), she had a solemn duty to perform, and here tonight, she would do that.
The intercom buzzed and brought the Director out of her mind and back to the present. It was her assistant, Taylor.
“Director, he’s here,” Taylor said in his usual crisp tone, despite the hour and no matter how long he had been on duty. About sixteen hours already today.
“Thank you, Taylor,” Tunny-Baxter said, leaning forward and pressing the intercom button. “Please let him come right in.”
She released the button, took a deep breath, then pushed up from her desk in her seventh floor office in the Original Headquarters Building (OHB) at the complex now officially known as the George Herbert Walker Bush Intelligence Center. Two seconds later there was a sharp double knock and one of the double oak doors opened.
“Come in, Kevin,” she said to the early fifties black man in the doorway. “Please, and thank you for coming over here this late. I’m sorry to tear you away from your family tonight.”
“Not a problem, Director,” said Kevin Mada as he walked in and shut the door behind him. “One kid’s been out on her own for a couple years now, the other had a date tonight, and Angie is working on a project in her home-office. I was just going to sit in the den and read until bedtime.”
The DCI smiled and came around the desk, taking her Director of Security by the arm and leading him to the sitting area to the left of the desk, a black leather sofa and matching wing chairs. She sat on the sofa and nodded that he should do the same.
Kevin could tell the Director was out of sorts, and he was pretty sure he knew why. All one had to do was turn on the news every day, if they were masochists, and in about five seconds they would understand why anyone in Washington, especially someone in the position of a political appointee in the current White House administration, would be antsy. But Director Tunny-Baxter was a tough cookie, too, and understood her position and her duty, and no matter what else was going on, she would always stay true to the values that had guided her life these past sixty-three years.
Kevin settled and waited, and after a minute, Grace Tunny-Baxter turned to him and smiled.
“Angie was just promoted at work, right? The Bryce Group?”
“Yes, ma’am. She’s now Managing Director for all their International Operations. A boatload of responsibility, but if anyone can handle it, my wife can. I have no doubt of that. Her staff has increased by fifty percent, too, and right now she’s working hard almost every day. Once she gets it sorted she can ease up. And immediately following that, I plan to take her away for a long weekend somewhere with a really nice spa.”
The Director smiled again.