Stay out of this

You fall in love with the Bureau, but the Bureau doesn't fall in love with

you.

-MAXIM IN FBI SEPARATION COUNSELING

THE FBI gymnasium in the J. Edgar Hoover Building was almost empty at this

early hour. Two middle-aged men ran slow laps on the indoor track. The clank

of a weight machine in a far corner and the shouts and impacts of a

racquetball game echoed in the big room. The voices of the runners did not

carry. Jack Crawford was running with FBI Director Tunberry at the director's

request. They had gone two miles and were beginning to puff.

"Blaylock at ATF has to twist in the wind for Waco. It won't happen right now,

but he's done and he knows it," the director said. "He might as well give the

Reverend Moon notice he's vacating the premises."

The fact that the Bureau of Alcohol, Tobacco and Firearms rents office space

in Washington from the Reverend Sun Myung Moon is a source of amusement to the

FBI.

"And Farriday is out for Ruby Ridge," the director continued.

"I can't see that," Crawford said. He had served in New York with Farriday in

the 1970s when the mob was picketing the FBI field office at Third Avenue and

69th Street. "Farriday's a good man. He didn't set the rules of engagement."

"I told him yesterday morning."

"He going quietly?" Crawford asked.

"Let's just say he's keeping his benefits. Dangerous times, Jack."

Both men were running with their heads back. Their pace quickened a little.

Out of the corner of his eye, Crawford saw the director sizing up his

condition.

"You're what, Jack, fifty-six?"

"That's right."

"One more year to mandatory retirement. Lot of guys get out at forty-eight,

fifty, while they can still get a job. You never wanted that. You wanted to

keep busy after Bella died."

When Crawford didn't answer for half a lap, the director saw he had misspoken.

"I don't mean to be light about it, Jack. Doreen was saying the other day, how

much-"

"There's still some stuff to do at Quantico. We want to streamline VICAP on

the Web so any cop can use it, you saw it in the budget."

"Did you ever want to be director, Jack?"

"I never thought it was my kind of job."

"It's not, Jack. You're not a political guy. You could never have been

director. You could never have been an Eisenhower, Jack, or an Omar Bradley."

He motioned for Crawford to stop, and they stood wheezing beside the track.

"You could have been a Patton, though, Jack. You can lead 'em through hell and

make 'em love you. It's a gift that I don't have. I have to drive them."

Tunberry took a quick look around him, picked up his towel off a bench and

draped it around his shoulders - like the vestment of a hanging judge. His

eyes were bright.

Some people have to tap their anger to be tough, Crawford reflected as he

watched Tunberry's mouth, "In the matter of the late Mrs. Drumgo with her MAC

10 and her meth lab, shot to death while holding her baby: Judiciary Oversight

wants a meat sacrifice. Fresh, bleating meat. And so do the media. DEA has to

throw them some meat. ATF has to throw them some meat. And we have to throw

them some. But in our case, they, just might be satisfied with poultry.

Krendler thinks we can give them Clarice Starling and they'll leave us alone.

I agree with him. ATF and DEA take the rap for planning the raid. Starling

pulled the trigger."

"On a cop killer who shot her first."

"It's the pictures, Jack. You don't get it, do you? The public didn't see

Evelda Drumgo shoot John Brigham. They didn't see Evelda shoot at Starling

first. You don't see it if you don't know what you're looking at Two hundred

million people, a tenth of whom vote, saw Evelda Drumgo sitting in the road in

a protective, posture over her baby, with her brains blown out. Don't say it,

Jack - I know you thought for a while Starling would he your protegee. But

she's got a smart mouth, Jack, and she got off to the wrong start with certain

people-"

"Krendler is a pissant."

"Listen to me and don't say anything until I finish. Starling's career was

flat-lining anyway. She'll get an administrative discharge without prejudice,

the paperwork won't look any worse than a time-and-attendance rap-she'll be

able to get a job. Jack, you've done a great thing in the FBI, the Behavioral

Science. A lot of people think if you'd pushed your own interests a little

better you'd be a lot more than a section chief, that you deserve a lot more.

I'll be the first one to say it. Jack, you're going to retire a deputy

director. You have that from me."

"You mean if I stay out of this?"

"In the normal course of events, Jack. With peace all over the kingdom, that's

what will happen. Jack, look at me."

"Yes, Director Tunberry?"

"I'm not asking you, I'm giving you a direct order. Stay out of this. Don't

throw it away, Jack.

Sometimes you've just got to turn your face away. I've done it. Listen, I know

it's hard, believe me I know how you feel."

"How I feel? I feel like I need a shower," Crawford said