It would be better if he were screaming, because then he could have heard. But Hood wasn't a screamer. When he got angry he talked slowly, measuring his words with care as though afraid a wrong one might slip in on his wrath. For some reason, Rodgers had this image of Hood wearing an apron and holding a large pallet, feeding his words gingerly as though he were slipping pizzas into an oven.

" has left me dangerously understaffed," he was saying. "I've got Martha as my right-hand man."

"She's good, Paul," he yelled into the microphone. "I felt my place was with the team, first time overseas."

"That was not your decision to make! You should have cleared your itinerary with me!"

"I knew you'd have your hands full. I didn't want to bother you."

"You didn't want me to say 'no,' Mike. At least admit that. Don't jerk me off."

"Okay. I admit it."

Rodgers looked at Lt. Col. Squires, who was pretending not to listen. The General drummed the radio, hoping that Hood knew when to stop: he was as much a professional as the Director was, more so in military matters, and he didn't intend to take more than a bare-bones, there-I've-had-my-say dressing down. Especially from a guy who was busy fundraising with the likes of Julia Roberts and Tom Cruise while he was leading a mechanized brigade in the Persian Gulf.

"All right, Mike," Hood said, "you're there. How do we maximize your effectiveness?"

Good. He did know when to stop.

"For now," Rodgers said, "just keep me apprised of any new developments, and if we have to go into action make sure my staff runs the simulations through the computer."

"I copy on the sims, and the only new development is that the President put us in charge of the Task Force. He wants to play hardball."

"Good."

"We'll debate that over pizza and beer when it's all over. Right now, your orders are to continue to your destination. We'll radio if there are any updates or changes."

"Roger."

"And, Mike?"

"Yes?"

"Let the kids do the heavy lifting, Middle-Aged Man."

The men signed out and Rodgers sat back, chuckling over their favorite Saturday Night Live character. Yet what really got him was the pizza reference. Maybe it was just a coincidence, but Hood had an uncanny instinct for picking up people's vibes about things. Rodgers often wondered if Hood had developed those talents in politics or whether he'd been drawn to politics because of it. Whenever Rodgers felt like kicking Hood in the ass, he reminded himself that the guy got the top spot for a reason however much he wished he'd been offered it himself.

He also wished Hood would join him at the track once in a while, instead of doing the Family Man of the Year drill. They could probably make a fortune together, and some of the girls he knew might loosen Hood up a bit-- make everyone's life a little less uptight.