“CIA Director John Foster Baldwin pressed a button on his
intercom.“”Yes, Gwen?”
“”Mr. McInnerney for you, Sir.”
“The Director gave an inward groan. What the hell could Francis
X. McInnerney want? Baldwin hadn’t spoken to the FBI Director since
their grilling by Congressman Steele’s committee weeks ago. And why
would he want to? McInnerney had done everything he could to
deflect Steele’s wrath towards the CIA, and with some success, too.
Whatever McInnerney might have to say, Baldwin doubted he’d like
it. “Hi, Francis. To what do I owe the rare honor of a personal
call?”“Baldwin heard McInnerney chuckle at the other end of the line.
“Don’t worry, John, no honor intended. Just following the rules by
promptly informing a partner in Homeland Security about an
important development.”
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