Chapter 4 Chapter 1: The Delicacy of "Politically Incorrect"

The Toulouse restaurant adjacent to Capitol Hill has "politically incorrect" delicacies such as veal and porcini, which makes this restaurant the first choice for working breakfast meetings of Washington's dignitaries and elites, which is really ironic.This morning, the Toulouse Hotel is busy again—the harsh clang of silverware, the whirring of the coffee machine, and the sound of conversations on mobile phones, all intertwined. The restaurant owner took a sip of the red mary while no one was looking, when a woman walked in. The woman was attractive, in her mid-thirties, wearing a cream-white Laura Ashley jacket, gray pleated flannel trousers, and unfashionable flat shoes.She stood there, tall and straight - her chin lifted slightly - not haughty, just strong.The woman had light hazel hair in the Washington style—that is, the TV presenter style—a thick mass of hair curled inwards at shoulder height, just the right length, There is no lack of sexiness, but it also makes people feel that she is extremely intelligent.

She was Rachel Sexton, daughter of Senator Sexton. "Welcome, Ms. Sexton." The boss led the senator's daughter through the dining area, and the eyes of many men immediately focused on this woman... This made the boss feel uncomfortable.Some people are polite, others are not.There were few women dining in Toulouse restaurants, and there were fewer women like Rachel Sexton. Rachel arrived at her father's dinner table, and the senator was talking on his phone about his recent successes.He just raised his eyelids to glance at Rachel, and tapped his Cartier watch to signal that she was late.

I miss you too, Rachel thought. Rachel's father was originally named Thomas, but he had long ago adopted his middle name.Rachel guessed it was because his middle name rhymed with his last name.Senator Sedgwick Sexton.Despite his silver hair, he is a smooth-talking politician who has been disguised as a sly doctor in soap operas, which is quite appropriate considering his talent for acting. Seeing her, her father clicked off the phone, stood up and kissed her. But Rachel didn't kiss him back. She had known for a long time that her father would not let her come if there was no secret purpose.

Sexton took a sip of his coffee and asked how he felt about the State Department guy he had been introduced to Rachel. Rachel politely declined.She knew that if her father wanted to see her, there must be something more important than this. Under her father's scrutiny, Rachel felt a part of her rejection melt away, and she cursed her father's authority.The look was father's housekeeping skill—the kind, Rachel suspected, that might land him in the White House.If necessary, he can burst into tears one moment, and the next moment those eyes can be completely tearless, opening a window to the passionate soul and extending the bond of trust to everyone.These are all for the sake of trust.His father always said that.Senator Sexton had lost Rachel's confidence years ago, but he quickly gained the confidence of the nation.

Sure enough, Senator Sexton revealed the purpose of his trip.It turned out that he felt that his daughter's work in Fairfax was working for the president and affected his campaign, so he wanted her to resign.Rachel vetoed his father's proposal. At this moment, a reporter flashed beside him.Facing the reporter of "Washington Post", Senator Sexton suddenly showed a hypocritical smile, and answered the reporter's interview with sophistication. The reporter pulled out a miniature tape recorder, turned it on, and said, "Senator, your TV campaign calls for legislation to guarantee equal pay for men and women ... and tax breaks for new families. Can you tell me why you want do that?"

"Of course. I just want women and families to be strong." Rachel nearly choked as she ate a croissant. "Also, on the issue of families," the reporter pressed, "you've said a lot about education. You've proposed cutting some of the controversial budgets to get more money for our nation's schools." "I believe children are our future." Rachel couldn't believe that her father had been reduced to quoting popular lyrics. "One last question, sir," continued the reporter. "Your votes have surged over the past few weeks, which has given the President a lot of headaches. What do you think of your recent success?"

"I think it's all about integrity. The American people are seeing now that the president has no integrity in dealing with the tough issues facing the country. Government spending is running out of control and the country's debt is piling up. Time to 'stop squandering' and 'start improving'." Rachel was suffering next to her outspoken father, as if trying to keep her away for a moment, when the pager in her handbag suddenly beeped.She received a reliable text message. This sound also reminded the reporter to change the subject.The reporter stared at Senator Sexton and asked slyly, "May I ask, sir, how do you and your daughter handle the conflict of interests between you?"

This reporter's question is what the interviewers usually call "grapefruit"-a question that seems to be difficult, but is actually very beneficial to the senator, and he has prepared lines-it is her father who asked someone to put it on him deliberately. lob, and then he slammed it out of the court to win a full house. The reporter coughed lightly, and said embarrassingly, "This conflict is that Ling Ai is working for your opponent." Senator Sexton's attitude softened immediately, and he laughed heartily: "First of all, the President and I are not opponents. We are just two patriots who disagree on how to run this country we love. Second , My daughter is not employed by the president, she is employed by the intelligence department. She compiles the intelligence and presents it to the White House. This is a very low position." Senator Sexton paused, looked at Seeing Rachel go on, "Actually, honey, I don't think you've even met the president, have you?"

Rachel's eyes widened, exasperated.But the screeching of the pager diverted her attention to the message on the LCD screen. --RPRTDIRNROSTAT-- Rachel immediately deciphered the text message and couldn't help frowning.The news was unexpected and almost certainly bad news, but she finally found a reason to get out.Just as Rachel got up to leave, the reporter asked persistently: "Ms. Sexton, there are rumors that you have breakfast with your father today to discuss the possibility of resigning from your current job to help your father run for office. , can you express your opinion?"

From her father's smug smile, Rachel sensed that this question was premeditated, and she lashed out at the reporter: "No matter what the fuck you are, listen carefully: I have not given up on my present Going to work and play for Senator Sexton. If you want to say anything to the contrary, you'll have to get a shoehorn and get that tape recorder out of your ass." The reporter was dumbfounded.He turned off the tape recorder with a click, concealed a smile on his face and said, "Thank you both." Then he disappeared. Rachel immediately regretted her gaffe.She inherited her father's temper, for which she hated her father.Senator Sexton glared disapprovingly, trying to persuade her to calm down.Rachel sarcastically accused her father of not only marrying her mother but of raping the neighbors when she was her age, before turning away and heading straight for the door.

The three sat in the thermal technology storm tent without saying a word.Outside the tent, the bitter cold wind was blowing, as if it was about to uproot the tent, but the three of them didn't care at all. They could all see that the situation in front of them was far more threatening than the raging cold wind. Although this white tent is not very conspicuous, their communication equipment, vehicles and weaponry are all superb.The team leader among the three was a man code-named "Delta One". This man was muscular, agile, and his eyes But it looked as bleak as the region he was in. The military watch on Delta One's wrist screamed, and at the same time, the watches on the other two's wrists also chirped. It's time. Instinctively, Delta-1 left his two partners, stepped into the cold and windy night, looked at the moonlit horizon with infrared telescopes, focused on a thousand meters away from here, towering over this barren on the gigantic, unbelievably massive buildings of the land.He and his ops team have been watching for ten days since the thing was built.Delta One is sure that the information inside will change the world.Some people have already lost their lives defending the building. At this moment, the outside of the building looked very peaceful. What's going on inside, however, is the real test. Delta One returned to the tent and said to his two crew members, "It's time to fly around." Both of them nodded.Delta Two sat in front of a computer screen and put his hand on an automatic joystick and gave it a jerk.A kilometer away, a mosquito-sized surveillance robot hidden deep under the building received this instruction and immediately moved into action. Rachel Sexton sped down the Leesburg Freeway in her white Honda, still angry.The view of the maple trees in the foothills of Falls Church, jutting out against the clear March sky, did little to appease Rachel.His father's recent surge in the general election should have given him a certain air of self-confidence, but it seems to have only stimulated his arrogance. Senator Sedgwick Sexton's deceitful reputation is deeply distressing to Rachel, because he is the only one left for Rachel. next of kin.Rachel's mother passed away three years ago, and her mother's death seemed like a disaster to Rachel, and the pain still bites her heart.Rachel's only consolation was the knowledge that her mother's death was like death's ironic sympathy for her mother, which had liberated her from her nightmarish marriage to the senator. Rachel's pager rang again, pulling her thoughts back to the road ahead.The message she received was exactly the same as just now. --RPRTDIRNROSTAT-- Report immediately to the Director of the National Reconnaissance Service.She sighed.OMG, here I come! Rachel felt more and more uneasy, and her car drove to the usual exit, turned to the intersection of a side road, and stopped abruptly in front of a heavily guarded guard box.This is 14225 Leesburg Highway, one of the most secretive locations in America. The sentries were checking the cars, and Rachel stared at the huge buildings in the distance.The one-million-square-foot complex sits imposingly on sixty-eight acres of forest just outside Fairfax, Virginia, DC.The front of the building is a one-way glass wall, which reflects a large number of signal receivers, densely packed antennas and some high-tech facilities on the surrounding ground, making the already awesome number of facilities look more numerous. times. Two minutes later, Rachel parked the car, walked through the manicured grass, and came to the main entrance, where there was a granite signboard with these words engraved on it: National Reconnaissance Office The two marines standing on either side of the revolving bulletproof door stared directly at Rachel who walked between them.Rachel felt the same way every time she walked through the door—a feeling of stepping into the belly of a sleeping giant. Stepping into the vaulted foyer, Rachel felt the whispers of secret conversations echoing softly all around her, as if seeping from the office overhead.A large tiled mosaic illustrates the mission of the National Reconnaissance Office: during peace and war give the United States a leadership position in controlling global information The walls here are covered with huge photos of rocket launches, submarine launching ceremonies, intelligence interception devices and other outstanding achievements that can only be sung behind closed doors. As usual, Rachel felt the problems of the outside world disappearing behind her, and she was stepping into an unreal world.In this world, questions come roaring in like wagons and answers are handed out almost in a whisper. As Rachel passed the final security check, the guard pressed a button, and the giant steel doors swung open. Rachel navigated a maze of corridors.Even though she has been here for six years, she still feels a little timid in the face of this huge operating system, which shocked her.This agency also includes six permanent military bases in the United States, employs more than 10,000 special agents, and its operating expenses exceed 10 billion a year.The National Reconnaissance Office has built an astonishing trove of cutting-edge espionage technology under top-secret circumstances: global electronic intelligence interceptors, spy satellites, silent relay chips embedded in telecommunications products, and even a "classic The Global Naval Reconnaissance Network of Wizards Utility, a secretive network of 1,456 hydrophones installed on the ocean floor around the world, capable of monitoring the movement of ships anywhere in the world. The NRO's technical equipment not only helps the United States remain invincible in military conflicts, but also provides a steady stream of peacetime information to agencies such as the CIA, NSA and Department of Defense to help them defeat terrorism , locating crimes against the environment, and providing policy makers with the information they need to make informed decisions when faced with a mountain of problems. Rachel is doing the work of an "intelligence analyst" here.Analysis, or information induction, needs to analyze complex reports, filter the essence or "points" of the material, and form concise one-page reports.As it turns out, Rachel is gifted at this.This is all thanks to the summarization of my father's heinous lies in those years. In this way, Rachel occupied the prominent position of the NRO-the intelligence liaison to the White House.She has to carefully sift through the daily intelligence reports of the National Reconnaissance Bureau, determine which situations are related to the president, refine those reports into single-page reports, and then send the summarized materials to the president's national security adviser. Rachel is very dedicated to this job.In the words of the NRO, Rachel Sexton "made the product and worked directly for that client." The job, while demanding and demanding long hours, was a badge of honor for Rachel, a way of asserting her independence from her father.Senator Sexton has offered countless times to provide Rachel with everything she needs if she gives up the job, but Rachel has no intention of being financially dependent on someone like Sedgwick Thicke. A man like Stone.Her mother was a good example of what can happen when relying on a man with too many cards in his hand. Rachel's pager echoed in the marble hallway. Why is it ringing again?She didn't care what information it was. Rachel walked into the elevator as she wondered what the hell was going on.She didn't go back to the floor where she worked, but went directly to the top floor. To call the NRO director a candid man is an exaggeration.NRO Director William Pickering was a small man with fair skin, a forgettable face, a bald head and hazel eyes.Although his eyes can examine the deepest secrets of the country, they look like two shallow ponds.For those who worked under him, however, Pickering was someone to look up to.Pickering was known in the NRO for the low-key, submissive, and down-to-earth personality.This man was silent, conscientious, and dressed in black. Everyone gave him the nickname "Su Mo".A brilliant strategist and a paragon of efficiency, Pickering managed his world with unparalleled sobriety.His "mantra" is: "Find the truth and act now." Chief Pickering was on the phone when Rachel arrived at the chief's office.Every time Rachel saw him, she couldn't figure it out: William Pickering could wake the President from his sleep at any time, and he didn't seem like a person with such power. Pickering hung up and beckoned Rachel in. "Agent Sexton, please sit down." His throat was clearly sore. "Thank you, sir." Rachel sat down. Although those around Pickering were uncomfortable with his blunt demeanor, Rachel had always liked him.He and Rachel's father are just in stark contrast... Both of them are ugly in appearance, but their personalities are far from each other. That was what her father was passionate about. Pickering took off his glasses, stared at Rachel and said, "Agent Sexton, the President called me half an hour ago, and I have a direct relationship with you." Rachel changed her sitting position.Pickering has always been known for being straight to the point, and here it is again. "The president wants to see you, see you in person, see you immediately." Rachel couldn't understand.Pickering stood up and paced in front of the window. "He told me to contact you immediately and send you to him. He has sent transportation and is waiting outside." Rachel frowned.There was nothing nervous about the President's request, but the caring look on Pickering's face did.Pickering analyzed skeptically: "Your Excellency's arrangement seems to have been ill-considered. You are the daughter of the man who is currently running against him for the position of the master of the White House, and he wants to meet you in private? I think this is too inappropriate. Of course, your father will undoubtedly have no objection." William Pickering makes no secret of his opinion of the one-and-done puppet politicians who flash up at the table when the real players are the likes of Pickering - visionary, long-serving politicians who understand Rules of the game for seasoned players.Two terms in the White House, Pickering often said, were not enough to grasp the intricacies of the global political landscape. Rachel guessed that it might be because the president needed to compress some sensitive material before summoning her, but Pickering still had doubts: if that was the case, the White House had plenty of qualified intelligence analysts, and he could get them at his fingertips if needed.If it's about internal affairs, the president should know better, so there's no need to look for Rachel.If not, of course he'd be looking for an NRO asset -- Pickering referred to all his men as assets.But why didn't he let me know what he was doing with Rachel. Considering Rachel's estrangement with her father, the president's opponents, Pickering strongly advised Rachel to refuse the meeting, fearing that the White House was trying to use Rachel. Obviously, Rachel couldn't refuse the president's request. Out of love for his subordinates, Pickering finally suggested to Rachel not to agree to any of the President's requests. Once the President has any conspiracy, call him immediately, and he will help Rachel get out of the predicament quickly. Rachel thanked the director, and was about to take the car sent by the president, but she was surprised to find that although it was only fifteen kilometers away from the special zone, the president actually sent one of the fastest helicopters ever ——A MH-60G Pave Hawk helicopter with a flat top and decorated with the White House logo. Four minutes later, Rachel Sexton stepped out of the NRO and climbed into the waiting helicopter outside.Before she could buckle up, the Pave Eagle was in the air, tilting its fuselage and speeding through the Virginia jungle.Rachel felt her pulse quicken as she stared at the trees speeding past below.Her pulse would quicken if she knew the plane would never reach the White House. Although the icy winds beat hard against the thermal tech storm tents, Delta One barely noticed.Both he and Delta Three focused their eyes on the comrade who was skillfully manipulating the joystick of the microrobot.On the screen in front of him is the live image transmitted through the pinhole camera mounted on the tiny robot. Micro-electro-mechanical systems, or micro-robots, are the latest high-tech surveillance tool known as "undetectable observation technology." The PH2 robot that Delta Two is flying is just one centimeter long—about the size of a mosquito—and has two pairs of glued-on transparent silicon foil wings that allow it to move through the air with unparalleled agility and efficiency. The new robot recharges by simply stopping within inches of a magnetic field.Even more conveniently, in modern society, magnetic fields are ubiquitous and hidden—power sockets, computer monitors, electric vehicles, microphones and mobile phones, and there seems to be no shortage of hidden charging stations.Once a tiny robot has successfully entered a certain area, it can transmit sound and image almost unlimitedly.The PH2 robot used by the Delta Force has been transmitting non-stop for more than a week, and there has been no incident so far.At this moment, the tiny flying robot hung soundlessly in the silent mid-air in the middle of the huge dome like a bug in a large and deep barn.Robots look down from the sky, hovering above unsuspecting crowds—technicians, scientists, and experts in every field of study. While PH2 was still circling, Delta One spotted two familiar faces talking.They are likely to be targeted.He instructed Delta Two to lower its flight altitude and prepare to listen. "I still can't believe it's true," said one scientist.There had been that excitement in his voice since he got here forty-eight hours ago. The other party was obviously as excited as him, "In your life...have you ever imagined that you would see such a thing with your own eyes?" "Never thought of that," the scientist replied with a smile. "It's like a dream!" Delta One had heard enough, and apparently things were going as expected.Delta-Two's control droid flew away from the interlocutor, parked it unnoticed next to a cylinder of a generator, and the PH2 droid's batteries immediately began charging for the next mission. The "Paving Eagle" helicopter rushed into the morning sky at once, and Rachel Sexton was contemplating all the strange things that happened in the morning until she realized it when the speeding plane was about to cross the Chesapeake Bay. The plane was flying in the completely wrong direction.A trace of doubt quickly flashed through her mind, and then, she was immediately filled with fear. Knowing that the president is not in the White House, Rachel panics.She was also overwhelmed by the pilot's constant dodging of her questions.Although the pilots didn't answer her questions, she quickly spotted their destination: Wallops Island, one of NASA's oldest launch centers. The pilot pointed to the end of the runway.Rachel nearly stopped her heart beating when she saw a gigantic, glistening creature in the distance.Even with a distance of three hundred yards, she recognized the light blue fuselage of the converted 747: Air Force One. The president is meeting her on Air Force One. As the Pave Eagle landed on the runway next to the president's plane, Rachel understood the idea that Air Force One was the Commander-in-Chief's "portable home field advantage."The plane was a formidable sight. When the president flies out to visit heads of state, he often asks — for safety reasons — to meet on his landline, which is parked on the runway.While part of the reason was security, another motive was undoubtedly the desire to use the aircraft's naked deterrence to give it an edge in negotiations. A Secret Service agent in a bright jacket appeared on the outside of the helicopter and greeted Rachel aboard Air Force One. "Wait here for a while." The secret agent disappeared after finishing speaking. Rachel stood alone in Air Force One's famous forward cabin with wood-paneled doors and walls.This is the room used to receive guests, entertain dignitaries and apparently scare first-time passengers to death. Everything in the room smacks of power, from the faint scent of a pipe to the ubiquitous presidential seal.Eagles clutching bows and arrows and olive branches are embroidered on the pillows and engraved on the ice bucket, and even the cork cushions on the bar are printed with this pattern.Rachel picked up a coaster and looked at it carefully. "So you're starting to steal souvenirs?" A low voice came from behind her. Rachel was startled, turned around, and dropped the coaster in her hand to the floor.She knelt down awkwardly, trying to pick up the coaster.She grabbed the coaster and turned to see the President of the United States looking down at her with a happy smile on his face. "I'm not a royal, Ms. Sexton. You really don't have to curtsey to me." Senator Sedgwick Sexton sat beautifully in his Lincoln limousine as it meandered through Washington morning traffic on its way to his office.Across the street from Sexton, Gabrielle Ash, the twenty-four-year-old personal assistant, was reading him the schedule for the day.But Sexton hardly listened. I love Washington, he murmured, studying the aide's fine figure wrapped in fine cashmere with admiration.Power is the strongest aphrodisiac . . . and it brings such women to Washington in droves. Gabrielle dreams of becoming a senator one day.She could do it too, Sexton thought.She is extremely beautiful and has a very sharp mind.Most importantly, she knows the rules of the game. Gabrielle Ash was black, but her tawny skin was closer to a deep tawny or reddish brown, one of those pleasing intermediate shades.Sexton knew that hypocritical "white people" would approve of the color and not feel like they had shot themselves in the foot.Sexton described Gabrielle to his close friends as having the face of Halle Berry and the brains and ambitions of Hillary Clinton, though he sometimes felt even that was discounted. Gabrielle has been his go-to since he promoted her to his personal campaign assistant three months ago.What's more, she only works and doesn't take money.She worked sixteen hours a day, and her compensation was to learn all kinds of inside stories on the battlefield with a battle-hardened politician. Of course, Sexton thought contentedly, I've talked her out of her work.Immediately after Sexton promoted Gabrielle, she was invited to an evening "job presentation" in his private office.As he expected, his young assistant came like a star, and his hospitality was beyond words.With the enduring patience he's mastered for decades, Sexton pulls out all the stops...to win Gabrielle's trust in him, to carefully reassure her, to be provocative and seductive. , in the end, in his own office, he fucked her. Gabrielle later offered to resign, but Sexton flatly refused.It's been a purely working relationship between them ever since. Gabrielle's pursed lips were still opening and closing, still framing Sexton's CNN debate this afternoon.But Sexton felt that those were just routine questions and nothing to fear. Knowing that there is still no news from the White House, Sexton can hardly believe that he has had such good luck recently.For months, the president has been toiling away on the campaign trail.Then, quite suddenly, just a week ago, he locked himself in the Oval Office and has not been seen since, as if completely intimidated by the growing support for Sexton from voters. Gabrielle mentioned that the White House campaign was angry about it.She had also heard that the president had been behaving strangely since an urgent secret meeting with the head of NASA last week.After that meeting, the president emerged dazed.Immediately afterwards, he canceled his schedule and has remained in close contact with NASA ever since.