The 14th Colony: A Novel Read Online Free Page A

end the Magellan Billet Litchfield had seized the opportunity to show he could play with the new team. Any other time she’d never tolerate this level of bureaucratic interference, but with the inauguration so close everything had gone fluid. Authority swirled in a state of flux. Change, not consistency, ruled the day.
    “You tried to keep this close,” Litchfield said. “But I found out about it anyway. Which is why I’m here, in the middle of the damn night. White House approval or not, this is over.”
    “You better hope Cotton doesn’t make it out,” she said, with equal casualness.
    “What’s that supposed to mean?”
    “You don’t want to know.”
    “Inform the Russians about what happened,” he said. “Let them handle it. And you never really explained why the president wanted Malone there in the first place.”
    No, she hadn’t, even though Litchfield would surely understand the value of doing someone a favor. “Coin of the realm” is what they called it in DC. A favor done is a favor returned. That was the way things worked, especially years ago when she first started the Billet. Then her twelve agents were all lawyers, each additionally trained in intelligence and espionage. Cotton had been one of her first hires, brought over from the navy and JAG with a Georgetown law degree. He worked for her a dozen years before retiring out early and moving to Copenhagen, where he now owned an old bookshop. Periodically over the past few years, because of circumstances, he’d been drawn back into her world. Of late she’d hired him as contract help. Today’s assignment, a simple recon mission, was one of those hires.
    But something had gone wrong.
    “Make it happen,” he said to her.
    Like hell. “Bruce, I’m still in charge of this agency for two more days. Until that time, I’ll run it as I see fit. If you don’t like that, fire me. But then you are going to have to explain yourself to the White House.”
    She knew that threat could not be ignored. Danny Daniels was still president and the Billet had been his go-to agency for quite some time. Litchfield was a typical DC panderer. His only goal was to survive and keep his job. How he accomplished that mattered not. She’d dealt with him on only a few occasions in the past, but she’d heard the talk about being an opportunist. So the last thing he could afford was a pissing contest with the current president of the United States, not only one that he would lose but one that would draw a lot of attention, too. If this man wanted to be a part of the new administration, he had first to survive the old one.
    “Look, don’t take this in a mean way, but your time is over,” he said to her. “So is the president’s. Can’t you both just let it go? Yes, you’re in charge of the Billet. But no agents work for you anymore. They’re all gone. You’re all that’s left. There’s nothing left to do except some cleanup. Go home. Retire. Enjoy yourself.”
    The thought had occurred to her. She’d started back in the Reagan administration at State, then moved to Justice, eventually assigned to the Magellan Billet. She’d run the agency a long time, but now all that seemed over. Her sources had reported that the $10 million it took to fund the Billet would be redirected to social outreach, public relations, and other tools to bolster the new AG’s image. Apparently that was deemed more important than covert intelligence work. Justice would leave the spying to the CIA, the NSA, and all the other alphabet agencies.
    “Tell me, Bruce, what’s it like to be second? Never the captain. Always the lieutenant.”
    He shook his head. “You are an insolent old bitch.”
    She grinned. “Insolent? Sure. Bitch? Probably. But I’m not old. What I am, though, is head of the Magellan Billet, for two more days. I may be its only employee left, but I’m still in charge. So either fire me—or get the hell out of here.”
    And she meant every word.
    Especially the