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And where was Camilla now, how far and how fast had she run? The FBI would find her, no question of that. It had been obvious since Charlie Fisk first mentioned the leak that he'd been watching everyone in the officeeven me, Kellner thought bitterly, and rightly so. But that would only be the beginning of my own private hell. |
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Camilla, you bitch, he thought. You killed David Milstein. No one had yet said so, but it was obvious whose hands were bloodymine for accepting his offer, hers for telling the Russians, and theirs for the actual killing. Did she realize what the eventualities would be? Did she care? |
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The end of my dreams, my ambitions, my hopes of serving in some higher capacity. He rubbed his burning eyes. |
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He straightened in his chair, looking across the desk at Charlton Fisk's sympathetic expression. I have always been too prideful, too sure of my own capacities in judging people, he thought. It's been a long time since I had to face the consequences of my arrogance. |
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Fisk regarded the President's gray-faced Adviser with interest. Kellner appeared composed, but his insides must be burning, Fisk thought. The blow must be almost devastating. A resignation was a certainty. "It would not be amiss, Vincent," Fisk said, "if you were to allow me to protect youat least until we sort everything out." |
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"I understand that you do. It is kind of you to be concerned. But there is the larger matter in Canada to consider. I can't go into isolation." |
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"Understood. We'll take care of you wherever you go for the next few days. Right now, the President needs you." |
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"This business in Canada is out of my league, Vincent. I've been a big-city cop by trade. Nuke doomsday machines are a bit out of my experience." |
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"Out of everyone's, Charlie." |
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