Consent To Kill

70

N o one moved. Ross stood like a statue in front of the couch and just in front of the president. His cheeks were red and his fists balled up tight. He blinked several times, as he struggled with whether or not to take Irene's threat seriously.

"She just threatened me! She can't do that."

Everyone in the room had a law degree. Such was the state of politics. Attorney General Stokes, however, was the only one who had seen the inside of a courtroom. He shook his head and said, "She gave you an opinion as to what Rapp might do. It wasn't a threat."

That was not the answer or support that Ross expected from his friend. He turned to the president and said, "I can't work with her anymore. Something has to be done."

"Sit down, Mark." President Hayes crossed his legs and looked at his newest Cabinet member. The onset of his illness had given Hayes cause to become more reflective. Gone was his yearning desire to drive and shape the debate. It had been replaced by a tactic that he found far more productive. He would sit back and listen. Let the monumental egos of his advisors battle it out. Over the last forty-eight hours he had come to the conclusion that Ross was in fact the wrong man for the job, but replacing him was pretty much a nonstarter. A man like Ross would not go quietly. He would leak to the press like a sieve. He would make it his personal mission to destroy Kennedy. She didn't deserve that, and Hayes didn't want her distracted. Her job was too important. It was time to rein in the egos and remind them who they worked for.

Hayes cleared his throat and said, "I'd like to be very clear on something. If it wasn't for Mitch Rapp, I believe this city would have been destroyed by a nuclear explosion six months ago. That means pretty much everybody in this room would have been killed." Hayes took a moment to make eye contact with each person. "The lengths to which he went to stop that terrorist attack…" Hayes shook his head and his voice trailed off. "You don't even want to know what he had to do, but let's just say it wasn't pretty. We owe the man our lives, and that is no small thing."

"I know that, but…"

The president held up his hand and in a firm voice said to Ross, "Don't interrupt me. All of us are either elected or appointed. That means our time in our particular position is limited. Cabinet members last on average about three years. Presidents and VPs, we get four, and we're really lucky if we get eight. People like Kennedy and Rapp, they've devoted their entire lives to the war on terror. They were fighting it before most of us even knew there was a war." Hayes paused and folded his hands over his knee. "I for one think they deserve our support on this one."

"But, Bob," Ross said, "it's more complicated than that. We have alliances and relationships that are at stake here. We cannot have an employee of the CIA running around blowing people up."

"We can't?" Hayes asked provocatively, with an arched brow.

"No!" answered an appalled Ross.

Hayes sized up Ross while he slowly nodded his head. He stopped, pursed his lips, and said, "Do you know what I think…I think we are the United States of America and we need to start acting like it."

The three Cabinet members stared back at him not sure what to say. The vice president knew better than to speak.

"If the Saudis want to make an issue out of this, they will lose. Mark, I want you to call Prince Rashid, and tell him that I'm extremely upset. You may tell him exactly what Irene said. If we find that he had any knowledge of his friend placing a bounty on one of my top counterterrorism people, I will personally sign the executive order that authorizes his assassination."

"Mr. President," said an uneasy secretary of state, "he is a member of the royal family. The king would be extremely upset."

"The king hates his half brother," the president said with a frown. "He knows Rashid would love nothing more than to become king and undo everything he has worked for. I will call the king myself and discuss the situation. I will guarantee by tomorrow all of this will be a nonissue."

Hayes stood and buttoned his coat. Everyone jumped to their feet, Ross a little slower than the rest, Hayes noticed.

"Mark, do you have a problem with any of this?"

"No, sir," he replied without enthusiasm.

"Good. And, Bea," Hayes said to his secretary of state, "when you talk to the Swiss foreign minister, tell him I appreciate his cooperation on this issue. If he persists in raising a stink, tell him I'm going to make it my personal goal in life to call every billionaire I know and tell them to divest any holdings they have in the Swiss banking industry."

The secretary of state swallowed hard and nodded.

Hayes walked over to his desk and checked his appointment book. He glanced up. No one had moved. He picked up the handset of his secure phone and said, "If you'll excuse me, I need to make a call to the king."