Chapters (79)
- Games of State
- ACKNOWLEDGMENTS
- CHAPTER ONE
- CHAPTER TWO
- CHAPTER THREE
- CHAPTER FOUR
- CHAPTER FIVE
- CHAPTER SIX
- CHAPTER SEVEN
- CHAPTER EIGHT
- CHAPTER NINE
- CHAPTER TEN
- CHAPTER ELEVEN
- CHAPTER TWELVE
- CHAPTER THIRTEEN
- CHAPTER FOURTEEN
- CHAPTER FIFTEEN
- CHAPTER SIXTEEN
- CHAPTER SEVENTEEN
- CHAPTER EIGHTEEN
- CHAPTER NINETEEN
- CHAPTER TWENTY
- CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE
- CHAPTER TWENTY-TWO
- CHAPTER TWENTY-THREE
- CHAPTER TWENTY-FOUR
- CHAPTER TWENTY-FIVE
- CHAPTER TWENTY-SIX
- CHAPTER TWENTY-SEVEN
- CHAPTER TWENTY-EIGHT
- CHAPTER TWENTY-NINE
- CHAPTER THIRTY
- CHAPTER THIRTY-ONE
- CHAPTER THIRTY-TWO
- CHAPTER THIRTY-THREE
- CHAPTER THIRTY-FOUR
- GAMES OF TOMORROW
- CHAPTER THIRTY-FIVE
- CHAPTER THIRTY-SIX
- CHAPTER THIRTY-SEVEN
- CHAPTER THIRTY-EIGHT
- CHAPTER THIRTY-NINE
- CHAPTER FORTY
- CHAPTER FORTY-ONE
- CHAPTER FORTY-TWO
- CHAPTER FORTY-THREE
- CHAPTER FORTY-FOUR
- CHAPTER FORTY-FIVE
- CHAPTER FORTY-SIX
- CHAPTER FORTY-SEVEN
- CHAPTER FORTY-EIGHT
- CHAPTER FORTY-NINE
- CHAPTER FIFTY
- CHAPTER FIFTY-ONE
- CHAPTER FIFTY-TWO
- CHAPTER FIFTY-THREE
- CHAPTER FIFTY-FOUR
- CHAPTER FIFTY-FIVE
- CHAPTER FIFTY-SIX
- CHAPTER FIFTY-SEVEN
- CHAPTER FIFTY-EIGHT
- CHAPTER FIFTY-NINE
- CHAPTER SIXTY
- CHAPTER SIXTY-ONE
- CHAPTER SIXTY-TWO
- CHAPTER SIXTY-THREE
- CHAPTER SIXTY-FOUR
- CHAPTER SIXTY-FIVE
- CHAPTER SIXTY-SIX
- CHAPTER SIXTY-SEVEN
- CHAPTER SIXTY-EIGHT
- CHAPTER SIXTY-NINE
- CHAPTER SEVENTY
- CHAPTER SEVENTY-ONE
- CHAPTER SEVENTY-TWO
- CHAPTER SEVENTY-THREE
- CHAPTER SEVENTY-FOUR
- THE END
- ABOUT THE CREATORS
Stoll nodded. "You mean, like this one?" He reached into his shirt pocket and withdrew a folded-over piece of cellophane tape. Inside was a gumdrop-shaped object slightly larger than a pinhead. "I did a sweep of the room while you were away. I forgot to tell you in the heat of the hate game showing up and all that."
Hood sighed and squeezed Stoll's shoulders. "Bless you, Matt."
"Does that mean I get to stay here?" he asked.
Hood shook his head.
"Just thought I'd ask," Stoll said disconsolately.
As he walked away, Hood was angry with himself for having overlooked that. He turned to Nancy, who had walked over. They were going into a potentially dangerous situation where a screwup could cost them the mission, a career, or a life.
You've got to focus on the job, he remonstrated himself. You can't be distracted by Nancy and all the might-have-been scenarios.
"Anything wrong?" Nancy asked.
"No," he said.
"Just standing around, beating yourself up." She smiled. "I remember the look."
Hood flushed. He glanced up to make sure that Stoll wasn't watching.
"It's okay," Nancy said.
"What is?" he asked impatiently. He wanted to get out of here, break the tempting closeness.
"Being human. Making a mistake now and then or wanting something that isn't yours. Or even wanting something that was yours."
Hood turned toward Hausen so as not to make it seem as if he were turning away from Nancy. But he was. And she obviously knew it because she stepped between the men.
"God, Paul, why do you put this burden on yourself? This burden to be so perfect?"
"Nancy, this isn't the time or place--"
"Why?" she asked. "You think we'll have another?"
He said bluntly, "No. No, we probably won't."
"Forget me for a moment. Think about you. When we were younger, you worked hard so you could get ahead. Now you are ahead and you're still pushing. Who's it for? Are you trying to set an example for your kids or your subordinates?"
"Neither," he said with an edge. Why was everyone always on his back about his ethics, work and otherwise? "I'm only trying to do what's right. Personally, professionally, just what's right. If that's too simple or too vague for everybody, it isn't my problem."
"We can leave," Hausen said. He put the phone in his jacket pocket and walked briskly toward Hood. He was obviously pleased, and unaware that he was interrupting anything. "The government has given clearance for us to leave at once." He turned to Lang. "Is everything set, Martin?"
"The jet is yours," Lang said. "I won't be joining you. I'd only be in the way."
"I understand," Hausen said. "The rest of us had better be going."
Stoll strugged into the backpack with the T-ray imaging unit. "You betcha," he said glumly. "Why go to the hotel where I can have room service and a hot bath, when I can go to France and fight terrorists?"