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"Seventy-eight percent? Am I reading that right?"
"Seventy-eight, point three. Yes sir. That's correct."
"Jesus Christ. And the computer's always right." This is not quite a question but ends in the rising inflection of someone who would rather be wrong but doesn't think they are.
"Just about always, sir. How should we proceed?"
"How many are there?"
"Seven."
"No wonder the probability was so high. Seven? That seems like a lot."
"Yes sir." Silence for a time, then: "Sir?"
"I'm thinking about it. Seven, that's a lot to deal with."
"We could arrange for an accident with the airplane."
"Are you out of your mind? Forget the collateral damage, we'd have the FAA, the TSA, and probably even Homeland Security crawling all over it."
"Yeah, well if DHS gets called in, we can send Traxler and–"
"But what about the other alphabet agencies they'd have to deal with? No, that's too big an exposure risk, I don't care how many of them there are. We'll deal with this like it was any other situation."
"Standard protocols, then?"
The silence this time is shorter. "Yes, standard protocols." The voice sounded unhappy at this.
"Question, dissuade, intimidate?" This was not quite a statement; the two of them knew the standard protocols by heart.
"It's worked before."
"What if it doesn't work this time?"
"We'll convince them."