Pursuit of Honor

CHAPTER 18

RAPP was out of time. If he and Nash were to have any chance of making the powwow at Langley, they had to be on the road in the next few minutes, and even then they would have to drive at least eighty miles an hour to give themselves a chance. Normally, Rapp didn’t concern himself with getting to meetings on time, but this was not your average run-of-the-mill bureaucratic black hole of a meeting. Kennedy had made it very clear the president had requested the presence of both her senior counterterrorism operatives, and while Rapp really didn’t care much for politicians, he’d dealt with a few presidents over his career, and found them tolerable in the sense that they understood it wasn’t a bad idea to have a man like Rapp around to deal with some of the stickier situations that popped up.

“Mike and I have to go.” Rapp looked at Hurley and said, “I wanna know who he used to bug Doc’s office. I wanna know where the originals are and I wanna know how many copies he made. And I want to move on this ASAP.”

“My money’s on Max Johnson,” Hurley said.

“Yeah,” Rapp replied. He was thinking the same thing. Max Johnson had been the second in charge of Security at Langley until he retired a few years earlier. He now had his own consulting firm, which coincidentally did a lot of work for Langley. Rapp didn’t know him personally, but had heard a few things over the years that would lead him to believe the guy would have no problem stooping this low. “I want a list of everybody Adams has talked to about Kathy O’Brien.”

“I want those tapes handed over to me immediately, so I can destroy them,” Lewis said.

“Doc, I don’t like this any more than you do, but someone is going to have to listen to those tapes.” Rapp thought of Chuck O’Brien. It would kill him to know that Kathy’s private sessions with her therapist had been recorded.

“I think you can trust me, Mitch.”

“It has nothing to do with trust,” Rapp said impatiently. “I need to listen to them so I can assess the damage.”

“I don’t think Kathy would approve.” Lewis shook his head and added, “and I don’t think Chuck will be too pleased either.”

Nash entered the fray. “Well, maybe he should have thought about that before he started sharing classified information with his wife.”

“She worked in Ops for twenty-three years,” Lewis said defensively. “Her record is unassailable.” Looking back to Rapp, he said in a very forceful manner, “I want the tapes. They are private and they belong to me.”

“It ain’t going to happen, Doc,” Hurley said matter-of-factly. “Kathy was read in on a lot of serious shit, but that doesn’t give Charlie the right to start sharing stuff with her, and it sure as hell doesn’t give her the right to spill her guts to you. That’s why we have these rules.”

“But . . . I think we can all agree that you trust me.” Lewis looked around the room. “I mean let’s get real. What we have going on here is far more serious than anything that might be on those tapes.”

Rapp was about to speak, but Hurley beat him to it. “Doc, your office isn’t secure. Fuck . . . the Russkies . . . the Chicoms . . . anyone could have the place bugged. In fact I bet Mossad has had it bugged for years.” Hurley looked at Rapp. “You better send a team in there tonight and have them give it the once-over.”

Rapp was nodding as Hurley spoke. “I was thinking the same thing. I’ll make it a priority.”

“I need to be there,” Hurley said, in a voice that made it clear this point was nonnegotiable.

“Fine,” Rapp said, knowing he was out of time. “As far as the rest of this goes . . . we’ll have to sort it out later. Mike and I have to go. In the meantime, start to peel him open. I want you to wring him dry.”

“I don’t think it will be a problem,” said Lewis, “but I would discourage ever releasing him. He would betray us the first chance he got.”

“I agree,” Hurley said.

Rapp simply shrugged and said, “I don’t give a shit.”

“It might be useful, however, for us to make him think we are trying to turn him. Someone with an ego this fragile needs to have a carrot constantly dangled in front of him. Along those lines I think we should have him write a note to Kennedy and his wife saying that he has checked himself into a rehab clinic. It’s something he needs to do . . . has been thinking about for some time. Only way to do it was to go cold turkey before he lost the courage. The important thing is to give him some hope.”

“Fine,” Rapp said.

“And if he proves uncooperative?” Hurley asked.

Rapp shrugged. “Do whatever it takes.”

“And Chuck?” Lewis asked.

Rapp thought about Chuck O’Brien, the current director of the National Clandestine Service. “What about him?”

“He knows Kathy was seeing me. Who’s going to tell him that our sessions were recorded?”

That was one conversation Rapp did not want to have. He could only imagine what had been discussed in those sessions. They’d been married for over thirty years. If Max Johnson were in fact the guy who had bugged the office, Chuck would want to kill him. And while Rapp wouldn’t raise a hand to stop him, he at least needed to talk to Johnson first. “I don’t want anyone saying anything to Chuck until we know who made the recordings, and I’ve had a chance to talk to them.”

“When the time is right,” Hurley announced, “I’ll do it.”

“Are you sure?” Rapp asked.

“It would kill him to hear it from you young pups. He’s still your boss. I’ll handle it.”

“All right . . . it’s settled.” Looking to Nash, Rapp said, “Let’s go.”

“Mitch?”

Rapp turned and looked at Maslick, who was now standing. “Yeah?”

“I want you to promise me something.”

Rapp got an ominous feeling. “What?”

“When it’s time to punch his ticket,” Maslick nodded toward the cell door, “I’ve got dibs.”

Rapp understood immediately. Chris Johnson, Rapp’s agent who had been killed a week earlier, had been Maslick’s best friend. They’d served in the 101st Airborne Division and had done three combat tours together. “If it comes to that and you still want to do it, I won’t stand in your way.”