Consent To Kill

60

What do you mean, he's gone?" snapped Ross.

Kennedy regarded him carefully, jammed her fingers into the pressure points on each palm and told herself to stay calm. "He's gone, Mark."

"I heard you." Ross brought his hands up like he wanted to choke someone. "How in the hell did he just vanish?"

"Maybe we should wait for the president," Kennedy said in a reasonable voice. She didn't want to have to repeat herself, and she had no doubt that Ross would be more civil with his boss in the room.

It was Sunday afternoon, and Ross had just finished playing eighteen holes with the president, the party's chairman, and one of the party's chief fundraisers. Kennedy had been tempted to call the president after the attack, but by the time she'd caught her breath it was past midnight, and as a general rule she never disturbed the president's sleep unless she needed him to make a decision. She'd thought about calling Ross, thought about how the call would go, and knew immediately that the longer she could put off bringing him into the loop the easier her life would be. There was too much to do, and he would want to be calling the shots.

So she had delayed it as long as she could, and now she was here to deliver the bad news and watch Ross freak out. Kennedy had not slept a wink. In addition to her professional duties, she had to contend with her son and how he was handling the trauma. Fortunately, Steven Rapp had understood that she needed to manage the situation and that Tommy needed someone to reassure him that everything was all right. So while she tried to sort out the mayhem, Steven and Tommy were escorted back to her house by a beefed-up security detail. The most difficult part had been explaining to Tommy that Vince Delgado and Mike Burton had been killed.

She'd arrived back at her house a little before ten in the morning. Tommy woke up, came down the hall, and the first thing he asked her was what happened to Vince and Mike. They had been on her personal protection detail for more than a year and she knew Tommy was attached to both men, especially Vince. She would break the news to their family members herself, but it would have to wait until she took care of a few things.

Ross was her chief concern. There were several things that she had done in the last fourteen hours that he would not like, but he was not someone who was well suited to consider the long-term needs of the CIA. She had timed her arrival at the presidential retreat to coincide with them getting back from their golf outing. She'd been waiting in the Aspen Lodge by herself for a little more than fifteen minutes, which had given her some extra time to think about how she would handle Ross. It was during this brief calm in a tumultuous week that she stumbled upon the key to dealing with Mark Ross. She was a little surprised she hadn't thought of it before, but she was not the type of person who tried to play her superiors.

Ross had no intention of waiting for the president and he pressed Kennedy by asking, "When did this happen?"

Kennedy glanced over Ross's shoulder toward the door. "Last night."

"When?"

"Around ten o'clock."

Ross's jaw went slack and his eyes narrowed. Now it was his turn to look over his shoulder. When he was sure they were still alone he turned his angry eyes back to Kennedy and said, "It is two in the afternoon. Would you mind telling me why in the hell it took you so long to inform me?"

Vanity, Kennedy thought to herself. That's the key. "Mark," she leaned in and spoke as if they'd known each other for years, "you know what's going on here today?"

Ross looked confused.

"No one is thrilled with Vice President Baxter's performance." Kennedy paused and let the innuendo hang there for a few seconds. "He's been a drag in the polls, and there's been a lot of talk about replacing him on the ticket." She moved in even closer and whispered, "I know there was a reason the president asked you to play golf today."

Ross took in a deep breath and nodded.

Kennedy could tell by the expression on his face that he'd already thought of this. It didn't matter that he didn't know the president wasn't running for reelection and it wouldn't matter in a month when he announced that he wasn't. Ross would take that news as an opportunity. He'd just have to wait and see who was going to be the front-runner and get them lined up in his sights.

"You're on the short list, Mark. Today was your interview. I didn't want to screw that up by dropping this on you right before you teed off, or worse, cut your round short."

Ross was speechless for a moment and then just as he was about to comment on Kennedy's revelation the president entered the room.

"Irene," Hayes said as he came over to them. He was dressed in a golf shirt, sweater vest, and slacks. "I'm sorry to keep you waiting. What's the problem?"

Kennedy shared a brief look with Ross and then said, "Mr. President, one of our safe houses got hit last night." Kennedy explained to the president and Ross that she had picked up Steven Rapp and brought him to the safe house so he could see his brother. They had just finished dinner, it was around 9:30, she was in the kitchen with her son cleaning up, when suddenly they heard gunshots and several explosions. Rapp rushed herself, her son, and his brother into the basement. Kennedy took a moment to explain the physical setup of the safe house, and how they took a tunnel over to the subterranean interrogation facility and locked themselves in a cell. About an hour after the incident had started, a CIA quick response team arrived on site and secured the facility. Kennedy explained with some difficulty that two men on her security detail had been killed, as well as two other CIA guards who were tasked to the facility. She ended the summation by telling them that Rapp was gone.

"What do you mean, he's gone?" Ross asked in a far more subdued tone than he would have five minutes ago.

"He literally wasn't there," Kennedy answered. "We assumed the worst at first…that he was captured and taken away, or killed and taken away, but then we ran the security tapes." Kennedy stopped, and it was obvious by the expression on her face that there was more to the story.

"And?" Ross asked, his curiosity fully piqued.

"The house was hit with a total of seven RPG rounds and over a thousand bullets. In addition to the four CIA employees killed, there were thirteen other bodies discovered."

"Thirteen?" Ross was shocked by the number.

"They were the men who we think were hired to attack the facility. They used three black Chevy Suburbans equipped with emergency lights." Kennedy turned to the president. "Like the kind the Secret Service uses to get through traffic. They tore down the main gate, and then drove up to the house with their emergency lights flashing. They were wearing blue coveralls with FBI baseball caps. My bodyguards didn't even draw their weapons. I think they thought it was the FBI showing up to place Mitch under protective custody."

"Back up a minute," said Ross, "or move forward. You said the four guards were killed. There were other guards, right?"

"No."

"Then what happened to these thirteen guys?"

The president looked at Kennedy and said, "Mitch was what happened to them."

Kennedy nodded. "Each man was killed with a single nine-millimeter shot to the head." Kennedy frowned and added, "Here is where it gets interesting. There was a fourteenth individual. The tapes show Mitch putting him in the back of one of the Suburbans and leaving."

"Why?" asked Ross.

"Why do you think?" Kennedy replied. "Somebody has now tried to kill him twice, and his wife is dead. He's going to squeeze everything he can get out of this guy and find out who hired him."

Ross didn't like the sound of this. "So we have no idea where he is?"

Kennedy shook her head.

"Have you identified any of the thirteen?" asked the president.

"We think they are members of a Latino gang based out of Alexandria."

"A Latino gang," Ross said. "Why in the hell would they want to kill Rapp?"

"Since we don't have anyone to interrogate, I'm going with the assumption that they were offered cash. Mitch has never operated in Central America. A gang like this would have no reason to go after him."

"What does the FBI have to say?" Ross asked.

Kennedy hesitated briefly. "I haven't brought the FBI in on this."

"What?" Ross was shocked.

"Mark," Kennedy said, "we don't need this kind of publicity. This facility is off budget. With your political career still ahead of you, it would be wise for you to stay as far away from this thing as possible."

"But we have four dead federal employees and thirteen dead…citizens. I assume these men are citizens."

"Mark," Kennedy shook her head, "the murder of my people will not become an issue. These families are briefed about this type of possibility and they will not make a stink."

"It's a domestic federal facility, though. It falls under the FBI's jurisdiction."

"If we bring the FBI in on the investigation, we'll end up with reporters crawling all over this and you will end up sitting in front of a committee on the Hill answering some very uncomfortable questions, and all for what?"

"What about the…"

"Mark," Kennedy said with an edge to her voice, "we have thirteen dead gangbangers who killed four federal agents and we have it on tape. The punishment for killing a federal agent is the death penalty. Citizens or not, these thirteen guys have already been punished. Bringing in the FBI will accomplish nothing more than putting this whole sorry mess on the front page of every newspaper in the country."

"What about the fourteen guys?"

Kennedy took a step back and shrugged. Her nonverbal answer was clear. She could care less what happened to them.

Ross started to speak, but the president reached out and placed a hand on his forearm. "Mark, trust me on this. Sometimes you're better off not asking questions. Let Irene take care of it."

It was clear Ross was struggling with this concept. He drew in a breath through clenched teeth and said, "Fine, but we need to find Rapp and make sure he doesn't embarrass this country."

Kennedy expected this. "Why?"

"Because we are a nation of laws, and we can't have a federal employee running around other countries killing people."

Really, Kennedy thought to herself, what do you think Mitch has been doing for the last fifteen years? She shared a quick look with the president. "Mark, I want you to be real careful here. Think about how this would be done, and what type of unwanted attention it will bring us. For starters, we can't charge him with anything."

"How about the thirteen dead Latinos?"

"Mark," the president said in a forceful voice, "forget about what happened last night. I don't want to hear it brought up again."

"Fine," Ross said, backing off a bit, "but we have to do something."

Kennedy saw her opening and said, "I think I have a solution."

"Let's hear it," said Ross.

"For now, we only alert our station chiefs abroad. I can send out a flash message telling them if they are contacted by Mitch, or they hear anything about him, they are to pass it on to me ASAP. I can stipulate that I want him brought in for questioning."

"What about the embassies?" Ross asked.

Kennedy thought he would suggest this. "I would prefer to keep it within the Agency."

"Not a big enough net." Ross shook his head.

Kennedy looked to the president to see if he'd back her up.

"For now," Hayes said, "let's alert only the Agency people." The president noted that Ross didn't like this and added, "Mark, he's not going to reach out to anyone from State. If he comes up for help, he'll contact one of his Agency connections."

"But can we trust those people to turn him in?" Ross asked.

Both the president and Ross looked to the director of the CIA. The truth was that they could not trust the station chiefs, but Kennedy wasn't about to admit that. This was all about telling Mark Ross what he wanted to hear, so Kennedy said, "I'll start calling select station chiefs immediately, and I'll make it very clear that they are to report any contact whatsoever, or they'll spend the rest of their careers burrowed in the basement of Langley purging outdated files."

This seemed to satisfy Ross, and Kennedy decided that having accomplished what she'd set out to do, now was a good time to leave. "I know you two have an important lunch scheduled, so I won't keep you waiting. If there are any new developments I'll let you know, otherwise, I'll have a more detailed briefing ready for tomorrow morning."

The president thanked Kennedy, which inspired Ross to do the same. Kennedy left the lodge and was ferried to the helipad in a golf cart. As soon as she was tucked away in the back of her helicopter, she pulled out her secure satellite phone and punched in a number. After several rings a man answered on the other end and Kennedy said, "I just bought you a little more time."