| From: | Paul J. Adam Shadowtk@********.demon.co.uk |
|---|---|
| Subject: | They also serve, who only stand and wait... |
| Date: | Wed, 2 Jun 1999 18:26:10 +0100 |
>>>>>[TO: SIGA Archive
+++++begin video
Coppinger's spartan office, inside the D-Ring of the Pentagon. The
Director of the Strategic Intelligence Gathering Agency sits behind his
desk. Facing him, in rumpled khakis, is Rear-Admiral Jane Kowalski.
They regard each other for a few moments: then Kowalski lays a card on
the table, face-down, deliberately turns it over to reveal the six of hearts.
Coppinger nods: places a card of his own beside it, flipping it at the last
moment to reveal the jack of clubs.
"Knave's gambit." Kowalski murmurs. "You're gettin' predictable,
David."
She lays a two of spades on her pile.
"You think so? Now, I would-" The telephone rings and Coppinger grabs it
in an instant. "Coppinger... Yes. Yes, they are... No. I don't have any
more information than you do yet... that _was_ my plan, sir... Yes. Good
night, sir." He replaces the receiver, sighs.
"VESPASIAN jumpy, huh?"
"Aren't we all?" The Director shrugs, places another card on his stack. The
nine of diamonds.
"Yeah, well, you're the only guy I've heard talk to his Commander-in-Chief
that way." The Admiral chuckles, slightly forced, and slaps down the king
of spades.
"I could candycoat it. Or I could tell him the truth." Coppinger puts down a
five of hearts. "Which is that the dice have been thrown and all we can do
now is sit and wait."
Kowalski grimaces as she lays a nine of spades on her stack. "Which you
hate doing as much as I do-"
The telephone rings and again, lightning-quick, the Director snatches it.
"Coppinger... No. We don't know yet, Don, you'll hear about it as soon as
we do... Not for a while yet. We'll know when it's started... Yes, you too."
He hangs up. "I should charge by the minute." he mutters.
"Yeah, well, your turn." Kowalski shrugs, watches as Coppinger turns over
the queen of clubs, reaches out with her own card.
As the Admiral turns it over - revealing the queen of diamonds - Coppinger
comes half out of his chair, his moving as fast as a striking rattlesnake to
lash out across the table.
Kowalski is still reacting as the Director of SIGA's palm slaps down hard
across the two piles of cards, sending one fluttering away.
"Snap!" he calls.
"That's three-two. You _sure_ you turned the wires off?" Kowalski
grumbles, picking up the dropped card and shuffling the others together.
"Perhaps I forgot that time." Coppinger chuckles.
"And this is a stupid game." the Admiral grouses.
"True. But neither of us could concentrate enough to play poker."
"And I'm _not_ playing a shark like you even for matches. You're nearly as
bad as Lilith."
"True." Coppinger pauses, musing, then sighs. "Don't remind me. Deal."
"How long until we hear?" Kowalski begins doling out cards.
"If they go in today... soon. If not... it could be days." Coppinger picks up
his cards. "Around sunset, local time, but that doesn't mean much. They've
got a window a few days wide, and I'm sure they'll-" The telephone rings
and he sighs before picking it up. "Coppinger.... Yes. I understand... Yes.
Of course. I'll spread the word - oh, good. Thank you. We're on our way."
"That's it?" The Rear-Admiral is already collecting the cards and sliding
them back into their battered box.
"That's it. Let's go." Coppinger picks his suit jacket off the peg behind the
door - he's armed, you notice - and slips it on. Kowalski is already out of
the door
+++++end video]<<<<<
-- AutoArchive Daemon <18:25:34/06-02-60>
