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So much for Morgan, the mighty warrior, he thought. Semper fi, Mac. |
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Vincent Kellner and two of his administrative aides came out into the anteroom. Kellner appeared calm, but there was a tight look around his eyes that suggested he had not slept enough in the last twenty-four hours. Morgan looked inside Kellner's office, still expecting to see Camilla Varig hovering in the background. Instead, he glimpsed Charlotte Conroy through the open door, a telephone receiver to her ear, listening for a moment, then speaking urgently to whoever was at the other end of the line. Her face was like a thundercloud. Whatever was going on when I left, Morgan thought with a prickle of apprehension, has escalated, gone ballistic. He braced himself. |
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The two aides with Kellner were members of the NSC's intelligence committee; both were lawyers, three-piece suit men, with inscrutable faces. A female colonel of the Canadian armed forces, wearing the wings of Air Command and the braided bullion shoulder cord of an aide-de-camp, followed close behind. Only a high-ranking Canadian official would rate a colonel as an aide. So, Ian Halloran was in Washington, Morgan realized. That meant the Canadians had come around at last. |
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Dr. Kellner said briskly, "Welcome back, John." To Anna he offered a brief smile, almost a grimace, and introduced himself before Morgan could speak. "Mrs. Neville. I'm Vincent Kellner. I'm pleased to see that you're safe." |
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Anna looked at him in weary silence. Kellner gestured to the Canadian colonel to come forward and said, "Mrs. Neville, this is Colonel Heloise Duquesne of Air Command. Please accompany her. She'll take you along where you can freshen up, then bring you back here. President Caidin and Prime Minister Halloran are pressed for time, but they both want to meet you." |
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Anna shot a look of dubiety at Morgan, then stood up. Colonel Duquesne, neat in her well-pressed uniform, obviously |
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