—
She was awakened later by someone hammering on her door, and she struggled to her feet and opened it. A woman she recognized as an analyst was standing there, holding a sheet of paper.
“What time is it?” Holly asked.
“Five minutes to four,” the woman replied, handing her the sheet. “This is a list of everybody who didn’t come back from lunch.”
“Sorry, I was out,” Holly said, taking the list.
“I understand.”
Holly looked at the list. “They should all be back?”
“Yes. We’ve got one out sick, the rest are all accounted for.”
“Spread the word: nobody goes out for lunch during a shift. If the food in the cafeteria isn’t good enough, I’ll do something about it.”
“I’ll do that,” the woman said, “and we could use a proper chef, instead of the dietitian. People say the food is a cross between prison and school dining hall.”
“Come on in,” Holly said. She sat down at her computer and typed for a moment, then sent it to the printer and got a couple of dozen copies. “Hand these around, and put one on every bulletin board,” she said. “I’ll do something about the food.”
The woman took the memo and left. Holly called the director.
“Yes, Holly?”
“Looks like six of our people died—three secretaries, two analysts, and a computer tech. I’ll e-mail you the names, but I don’t think you should release them to anyone, including families, until we have identity confirmation from the coroner’s office.”
“All right. Is there anything I can do?”
“Yes, ma’am. Authorize the hiring of a chef. Everybody hates the food in the cafeteria.”
There was a short pause. “I remember,” she said. “I’ll put somebody from our design department on turning the place into a proper restaurant, and I’ll tell personnel to find a chef. I’ve got some discretionary budget I haven’t used.”
“That’s a wonderful idea,” Holly said. “Now I won’t have to bring a lunch box.”
“I’m afraid you’re stuck there until this is resolved,” Kate said.
“I’m happy to deal with it, Director. May I make a suggestion?”
“Of course.”
“It would be great if the president, since he’s leaving office, would see about authorizing us to work domestically in terrorism cases.”
“Funny you should mention that. We talked about it a couple of days ago, and last night Will told me that he’s sending a request to the Senate Select Committee on Intelligence to get a bill together to authorize. The White House counsel has told him he can issue an executive order to permit us to work domestically, but that it will expire with his presidency. I’ve asked him to make his request to the committee on an emergency basis, and what has happened today will make it imperative that they move quickly. He’ll sign the executive order today.”
“Thank you, ma’am,” Holly said, and she meant it. “May I tell our people here? It might help morale. Everybody knew somebody who was in that restaurant.”
“Go ahead and tell them, but warn them that the information is classified until they read it in the papers.”
“Yes, ma’am. May I tell the police commissioner and the FBI AIC?”
“Yes.” The director hung up. Holly called the police commissioner.
“Yes, Holly. Don’t worry, we’re all over this.”
Holly told him about the chase in the subway tunnel.
“I’m sorry you weren’t able to shoot her,” he said. “That’s twice she’s eluded capture.”