Pursuit of Honor

CHAPTER 21

RAPP didn’t like any of this. Didn’t like the fact that the damn FBI had to put everything in writing, or triplicate or whatever in hell it was that they did now with all the damn forms they had to fill out. It was one of his big bitches about this war on terror-too many lawyers created too many cover-your-ass bureaucrats who in turn demanded that everything be put in writing. Assuming it took a few days to put the report together, it couldn’t have been in circulation for more than three or four days, yet here was a private citizen who had already read it. Rapp was pissed, not because of Dickerson really, but because he had failed to have the damn report sanitized, or at least have his role in the affair minimized to a footnote and have someone else given the credit. Things were happening too fast, and he was making mistakes.

Everyone took a seat and then Dickerson said, “You don’t look too pleased.”

“I’m not used to discussing classified information with civilians.”

“Ah . . . I see. You’re bothered that a man like me, who does not work for the federal government, and has no security clearance that you know of . . . ended up with the official FBI report of what happened at the National Counterterrorism Center last week.”

“That’s a pretty accurate assessment.”

Dickerson nodded in a thoughtful manner and said, “The president showed me the report this morning.”

Rapp looked at Kennedy, who appeared to be taking the news much better than he was. “And why would he do that?” Rapp asked Dickerson.

“He trusts me, Mr. Rapp.”

Rapp looked around the room. “I assume he’s not showing up?”

“That would be correct.”

Rapp looked to Kennedy.

The CIA director said, “It’s politics, Mitch.”

“What does this have to do with politics?” Rapp knew it was a stupid question the second it left his lips. The factions in D.C. could turn anything into a partisan issue. Much of it he ignored, but when it came to National Security it really got his blood boiling.

Kennedy said, “That FBI report that Gabe is referring to contained mention of an incident between you and Mr. Abad bin Baaz.”

“You’re talking about the Saudi terrorists that I apprehended the day of the attacks?”

“Yes,” Kennedy replied.

“So?”

Dickerson answered, “He has dual citizenship.”

Rapp was afraid some Dudley Do-Right would make an issue of this. “He’s a Saudi terrorist who applied for dual citizenship so we couldn’t put the screws to him. If we had any common sense left in this town, you’d take his citizenship away and hand him over to me so I can finish interrogating him.”

“The president,” Dickerson sighed, “actually agrees with you, but there is a rather vocal group in his party that, to put it mildly, disagrees with him.”

“Don’t tell me they’re going to come after me for this?” Rapp asked Kennedy. “There is too much going on right now. Too many things that I need to take care of. I can’t be dealing with these idiots right now.”

Kennedy said, “Fortunately, it looks like they have run into an obstacle.”

“What kind of obstacle?”

Dickerson said, “A fellow senator who has vouched for you.”

“Lonsdale?”

“Yes. The FBI report has a section that outlines Mr. bin Baaz’s claim that you dislocated his shoulder and a doctor’s report that backs up his claim that the injury was caused by you while he was in your custody. Before he was turned over to the feds.”

Rapp knew it had been caused while in his custody. He remembered vividly dislocating the little pecker’s arm and twisting it to the point where he thought he might actually rip it off. “And Lonsdale?”

“She has filed an affidavit stating that Mr. bin Baaz was in perfectly good condition when she arrived at the National Counterterrorism Center and that he was hurt during the attack when he was thrown to the floor by none other than herself.”

Rapp concealed his surprise. The fact that the senator had lied for him was an interesting development, to say the least. Rapp kept a straight face and asked, “So what’s the problem?”

“Things in Washington are very rarely open and shut. This group of senators and representatives has retreated for the moment, but they have very powerful lobbying groups that give them piles of cash, and in return they expect them to take the fight to the enemy. Those groups will demand that they open a new front.”

With evident sarcasm Rapp said, “I thought we were all on the same team.”

“They despise you, Mr. Rapp.” Dickerson looked around the office. “They despise this entire Agency.”

Rapp was somewhat alarmed to hear he was on their radar screen, but he wasn’t about to let on. “I would imagine some of those powerful lobbying groups are clients of yours.”

“They are.”

“And you make a lot of money from them.”

“I do.”

“So why do I get the feeling you’re not here on their behalf this morning?”

Dickerson smiled, “You are a quick study, Mr. Rapp. I am not here on their behalf.”

“Conflict of interest?”

“Don’t confuse lobbying with the legal system. It’s the first thing I tell my new associates, who are almost always fresh out of law school and full of ideals. I’m a pragmatic man, Mr. Rapp. I’ve been a lot of places . . . seen a lot of things, and if I’m lucky I’ve got another ten years before I meet my maker. I take money from these groups because I’m a capitalist, and I earn every penny of it trying to moderate their crazy demands. I know who they are, and I don’t particularly sympathize with their view of the world, but they are a force to be reckoned with.”

“So whose meter are you on right now?”

“Let’s just say I’m here because I feel it’s my patriotic duty . . . that and because the president asked me to take his place.”

“And why would the president do that?”

“Because I advised him to cancel this meeting.”

Rapp asked the obvious question, “Why?”

“He was briefed by the FBI late last night about the ongoing manhunt, and let’s just say it didn’t go well.”

“How so?”

“They don’t have a single lead and the suspects that you took into custody the day of the attacks have all lawyered up and are refusing to talk.”

“And this surprised the president?”

“Not entirely, but he is a man who expects results. He thought some progress would be made, but these three men have simply vanished. The FBI doesn’t have a single solid lead.”

“Well . . . when you fight with both hands tied behind your back it’s hard to win.”

“The president is starting to see things your way, but I’m getting ahead of myself. There was another development at the meeting. One of the deputy attorneys general also pointed out this sticky issue between you and Mr. bin Baaz. He went so far as to say he felt Senator Lonsdale had filed a false affidavit and that you in fact had abused the prisoner.”

Rapp groaned, “I bet the president loved hearing that.”

“It did not please him in the least.” Dickerson turned even more serious. “He told the briefers that the only two people who seemed to have gotten anything done in the past week were you and Mr. Nash, and that in his honest and very important opinion, if men like you didn’t have to spend so much time answering the Justice Department’s inquiries, you might have been able to prevent the attack that occurred last week. He then went on to suggest that it might be a good idea if we stopped persecuting our own people and focused a little more on the terrorists who attacked us.”

Kennedy said to Rapp, “The president called me after the meeting. He said he wanted to talk to you and Mike first thing. Thank you for the sacrifices you’ve made and ask you for a favor.”

Rapp turned to Dickerson. “And you talked him out of coming?”

“Yes.”

“Why?”

“Please don’t take this the wrong way, Mr. Rapp, but I think it would be best if the president kept his distance from you.”