Part 19 (1/2)
”But Nick grew up here. I guess what he learned about Russia was what his folks told him, being brainwashed with negative remarks about us, and overly positive statements about the 'Motherland.' And by the time he learned about his heritage, he was probably at a very impressionable age. That's not to say he didn't like living in the States, and didn't form his own opinions. But I can't imagine what it'd be like learning that your whole life was preplanned, dictating that you'd be working for a foreign government, and working against the only country you'd ever known.” Grant shook his head slowly. ”Hard to imagine.” He went quiet, then said, ”Sorry, Mr. President. Hope I didn't get too carried away.”
”Not at all.”
”I guess it wouldn't hurt to try and convince him, though.”
Carr started to respond when the intercom buzzed. ”Excuse me a minute.” Carr went to the desk. ”Yes, Theresa?”
”Mr. President, Secretary Williams is here for his appointment.”
”I'll be with him shortly.”
Grant stood and re-b.u.t.toned his suit jacket, as Carr walked toward him. ”Well, Grant. It's been a very interesting meeting.” He extended a hand.
Grant reached for it with a firm grip. ”Yes, sir. If we can do anything to help with the remaining investigation, let us know. We'd be more than happy to.”
Continuing to shake Grant's hand, Carr said, ”The Team did a remarkable job on the mission, Grant. I thank you all.”
”Our pleasure, Mr. President. I'll be sure to tell them.”
As Grant stepped into the outer office, Carr said with a smile, ”Keep my offer in mind!”
”I will.”
Carr gave a slight wave, then motioned Treasury Secretary Williams to come into the office.
Grant gave a quick look at his submariner. Then, he started walking, seeing her sitting behind her desk, busily sorting through a stack of file folders.
He stood next to her desk, and said quietly, ”Hi.”
She looked up. ”Oh! Captain Stevens.”
”No formalities, okay? Just call me 'Grant.'”
”All right. Grant it is,” she smiled.
”I know this is kind of sudden, but how'd you like to have dinner with me, say, Sunday?”
She couldn't take her eyes away from his. ”That sounds lovely.”
He reached for a pencil and notepad, and handed them to her. ”Would you mind giving me a home phone number? I don't want to bother you here--like I'm doing right now.”
”You aren't bothering me at all,” she replied, as she wrote down the number, tore the paper from the pad, and handed it to him.
He gave the number a quick glance, then put it in his jacket pocket. ”I've gotta go. We're still trying to catch up since we've been back. I'll call you in a couple of days, then we can set up a time for me to pick you up. How's that sound?”
”Sounds perfect. I'm looking forward to it,” she smiled.
He started backing away. ”Yeah. Me, too.” Then, he turned and headed to the main door.
Once he was out of sight, she returned to filing, when another a.s.sistant laughed, ”Wow! Way to go, Claudia!”
State Department Office of Scott Mullins 1600 Hours ”Permission to come aboard,sir!”
Mullins swung his chair around. ”Hey, Grant! Welcome back!”
Grant went to the desk with his arm outstretched, grabbing hold of Mullins' hand. ”As always, it's good to be back!”
”Sit!” Mullins said. ”How about something to drink?”
”No, thanks. Had a c.o.ke with the President earlier.”
”Well, listen to you! 'Mr. Name Dropper'!”
”Guilty,” Grant laughed.
Mullins rocked back and forth in his swivel chair. ”So, what's he like?”
”Who, the President?”
”You know who I mean.”
”Oh, you mean 'Nick.'”
”Who the h.e.l.l's 'Nick'? I meant Kalinin.”
”Nick Kalinin. You know. 'Nicolai'?”
”Oh, f.u.c.k. Don't tell me you two are buddies already?”
”Not exactly.” Grant proceeded to fill Mullins in on the whole op. When he finished he asked, ”Do you know where they're holding him, Scott?”
Mullins shook his head. ”Haven't been able to find out. But the FBI's most likely got him in one of their 'hideaways' which means there's a good possibility he'll be moved to another location, and probably soon.”
”Think you could do some investigating for me?”
”You won't be able to have any contact with him, Grant.”
”I know. I know.” He locked onto Mullins' brown eyes. ”C'mon, Scott. That's not much to ask for. A few phone calls.”
”I'll see what I can do.”
”Thanks.”