Any Means Necessary (a Luke Stone Thriller-Book #1)

Chapter Twenty Six

1:15 p.m.

McLean, Virginia - Headquarters of the Special Response Team

Luke had never really looked at Don Morris's photos before. The walls in his office were covered in them. Then again, Luke had never really stood around in Don's office with nothing to do before, either. Don was usually here when Luke walked in.

The photos were amazing. In one photo, a much younger Don was standing with Arnold Schwarzenegger, demonstrating to the actor a big MK-19 grenade gun. In a newer one, Don was putting a jiu-jitsu move on Mark Wahlberg. Wahlberg was inverted, his legs in the air, his head on its way to a safety mat. Luke knew that Don sometimes consulted with Hollywood, helping to make their celluloid fakery seem vaguely realistic.

There was more. Here was Don, receiving what looked like a Bronze Star from Jimmy Carter. Here he was shaking hands with Ronald Reagan. Here was one with Bill Clinton. Here was one of Don with a paternal arm around Susan Hopkins. And another of Don standing near a river with the current Speaker of the House, both men wearing fly-fishing gear. Here was Don addressing a Congressional committee.

Luke sensed a presence behind him in the room.

"Hello, son," Don said.

"Hi, Don. Great pictures." Luke turned to face him. "You get around, eh?"

Don came all the way into the room. He wore a dress shirt and slacks. His body language was relaxed, but his eyes were sharp. He sat behind his big desk, and gestured to the chair facing it.

"Have a seat. Take a load off."

Luke did.

"Politics..." Don said, "...is war by other means. Networking is a big part of how I've kept this place going. Our people do a great job, but if the big-wigs don't know about it, then we're out of work. To the bean counters, we are a line item, about as important as the one marked Miscellaneous."

"Okay," Luke said.

"I see you got a shower," Don said. "Freshened up a bit?"

Luke nodded. The shower facilities here were first rate. And he kept two changes of clothes in his locker, even while he was on leave. He wasn't feeling a hundred percent, but he was a lot better than before.

"Close call today, huh?"

"I guess we've had closer ones," Luke said.

Don smiled. "Either way, I'm glad you're not dead."

Luke returned the smile. "Me too."

"We still partners?" Don said.

Luke wasn't sure how to answer that. They had been together a long time. Until today, there had never been a moment, not one, when Luke thought Don didn't have his back. Today there had been two such moments. And in both cases, Don's instincts had been wrong. Don had been skating in one direction, and the puck had been sliding off at full speed in the other direction. If Luke had listened to Don, then the President, the Vice President, and a lot of other people would have died.

It was a profound change, much like seeing an iceberg the size of Kentucky calve away from Antarctica and fall into the ocean. It was a huge thing to witness, but the implications of it were even bigger.

Maybe Don was getting old after all. Maybe he was seeing the Special Response Team collapse all around him, this organization he had built over ten years, and he was scared. Maybe its demise was giving him a whiff of his own mortality. Maybe it was clouding his judgment. Luke was willing to believe these things.