Shattered (Michael Bennett #14)(81)

“Good answers,” the president says. “Which is why I’ve called you both in here today.”

“Sir?” Liam asks. He’s not sure where the hell this is going, but his initial impression of his good-looking couch mate, Noa, is positive. She gave a neat, thorough answer to the president’s threat question. He has the odd hope that Noa has a similar feeling about his own reply.

The president clasps his hands together and leans over the coffee table.

“After decades of our being the world’s punching bag, I’ve decided this administration isn’t going to be reactive anymore,” he says. “We’re going to be proactive, go after our enemies before they strike. We’re no longer going to be the victim. I’m going to set up two CIA teams, one domestic, the other foreign, and you two are going to run them. I’m going to give you the authorization to break things, kill bad guys, and bring back our enemies’ heads in a cooler.”





Noa Himel lets the president’s words sink in for a moment before replying, still wondering what odd circumstances of life have brought her here, her first time meeting the president.

She’s originally from Tel Aviv, moving at age five with her family to New York City when her corporate banker mother got a great job offer. Dad is a graphic artist, and she’s their only child. After she graduated with a master’s degree in international relations from Columbia, her uncle Benny flew in from Israel to congratulate her and recommend that she talk to an old friend of his in Virginia about a job.

That led to two developments: getting employed by the CIA, and confirming the family rumors that Uncle Benny worked for Mossad.

The Agency was still “old boy” in that a lot of managers thought women recruits should go to desk and analysis jobs, but at the time Noa thought, Screw that shit—she wasn’t spending the rest of her life in a cubicle. She went for the Directorate of Operations and got in, not afraid to ask tough questions along the way.

Like right now.

“Sir…with all due respect, you know we can’t operate in the United States,” Noa says. “It’s against the CIA’s charter. Congress and their oversight…they would never allow it.”

His eyes flash for a hot second. “You think I don’t know that, Noa?”

Noa knows he’s quite aware of that, given his background as a former Army general, the secretary of defense, the CIA director, and a two-term congressman from California before he won the White House.

“Sir,” she says, “that’s what I meant by ‘all due respect.’ You have the authority to have the Agency conduct overseas operations and missions, but inside the United States…it can’t be done.”

“Nice observation, Noa, but it will be done,” he replies. “I’ve issued a presidential finding regarding the temporary deployment of CIA assets within the United States, and my attorney general has signed off on it. You and Liam have no worries about doing anything illegal. It’ll be on the books…though I’ll be the one keeping the books, of course.”

Noa waits for Liam to speak, but he’s keeping his mouth shut and his opinions to himself, usually a wise career move at the CIA. He’s dressed well and has a nice-looking face and light-brown hair, but he sits oddly, like he’d rather be standing armed in a desert somewhere. Besides, she thinks, he’s former Army, meaning in most circumstances, when receiving an oddball order like this, his instinct will be to salute first and ask no questions.

But Noa sees things differently. Working in the Agency means both competing in the field and dealing with the bureaucratic infighting that comes with every large organization, but she feels like President Barrett is the proverbial bull in a china shop, asking her to come along for the ride.

A thrill for sure, but to what end? she thinks.

“Sir,” she says—thinking if she’s going to commit career suicide, why not do it in style?—“don’t you think the respective intelligence committees in Congress are going to raise hell over your finding?”

His smile seems to be made of steel. “The Intelligence Authorization Act allows the president to proceed without official notification to Congress if I inform them in a ‘timely manner.’ That’s up for me to define, isn’t it? ‘Timely manner’?”

Next to her Liam bestirs himself and says, “Absolutely, sir.”

Damn Army vet, she thinks.

Barrett seems happy that Liam has spoken and says, “The time of nations and organized terrorist groups fighting other nations in the open is long gone. Now they conceal themselves, depending on our adherence to the rule of law and due process not to respond. Our enemies are activists, now more than ever. We have to be activists in return. Now I want to tell you why I selected you, what I expect of you, and why I decided to brief the two of you together.”

He stares at Noa, and she feels uneasy. The president has never married, has borne himself like a “warrior monk,” similar to famed Marine general James Mattis. He’s totally dedicated to the United States and its defense, yet he has that “thing” that some former presidents had, including JFK, Johnson, and Clinton. When one is in their presence, one takes notice.

Noa also takes notice of an edge to the president’s look, like he is sizing her up, and she isn’t sure if it’s her experience or appearance he is evaluating.