"I know."
The general's eyes softened and moistened. For a moment, he seemed to be near tears.
"I also didn't want you to think I was ignoring you before, when I thanked Bob and Darrell for their help. One of the things I was thinking on the flight back was some of the decisions Orr and Link made. It isn't like the military, where you have a target and a limited number of ways to reach it. Where everyone in your unit is identically armed and trained and you know pretty much how they're going to react. There is nothing predictable and no one reliable in politics."
"Some of us try; most of us fail," Hood admitted.
"You tried harder than most," Rodgers said. "I haven't always bought what you were selling, and I've been pretty vocal about that. But I can't fault your efforts. I guess you were the right man for this job." He gestured behind him to indicate all of Op-Center. "You listen, your instincts are damn good, and you have a good heart. And, hell. You had the White House nipping at one ankle, me kicking at the other, and a bomb that tore a hole through your middle. You still got us through and beat the bad guys."
"We all did," Hood reminded him.
"You were the coach. You get first champagne."
"Thanks," Hood said. It seemed a frail word for what Hood felt. But the feeling behind it was sincere.
"Well, I'm going to get myself out of here," Rodgers said. "Start that long furlough."
"You earned it," Hood said. "And I hope you find the answer to whatever the question is. You know where to come if you need advice."
"Yeah," Rodgers smiled.
The men shook hands, then embraced. It was a tough good-bye. The men had been through loss and triumph together. This was the man who had saved the life of Harleigh Hood. Though Hood expected that they would see each other again, an era of shared victory and pain was ending.
Rodgers broke the embrace with a sharp salute, then turned and left. He walked quickly and proudly into an uncertain future.
Hood went back to the conference table. His own future was also cloudy. There was rebuilding to be done, not just at Op-Center but inside Paul Hood. He did not question the decisions that had brought them to this point, the loss of Rodgers and other staff members, as well as the new alliance with the White House. But Hood did regret them. He always would.
Hood did not know his own future, of course. But he hoped that Rodgers was right about one thing. Hood hoped that unlike Donald Orr and Kenneth Link, he knew the difference between what was moral and what was not. And that he had the strength to stand up for what was right.
The coming weeks would be a test, not just for him but for Op-Center.
Suddenly there was a hollow cheer from somewhere along the air ducts.
That was where the group of air force mechanics had been working. A moment later, cool air began to circulate throughout the underground complex. Whether the engineers had misled Herbert or whether they had worked a wonder was not important. Only one thing mattered: Renewal, Hood thought. You can never write it off.
Never.