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Clark raised his glass and took a drink. The plan was perfect. NBC's White House correspondent found dead in the home of suspected CIA operative. The investigations would start in both the House and the Senate. Clark would take the high road and remain dignified during the televised hearings, and then, when the timing was absolutely perfect, he would produce Rielly's doctored journal. The journal would be filled with facts that would bring President Hayes to his knees and disgrace the Democratic Party. By the time the next election rolled around, Senator Hank Clark would be the GOP's lead horse. The plan was perfect.
THEY HAD GATHERED in Stansfield's study: It was a quarter past ten in the evening. The director had just returned from the White House and looked tired. At Rapp's urging, Stansfield had requested extra protection. No one in the CIA's Office of Security had asked any questions. They didn't even bat an eye at the request. They were used to such things. Within thirty minutes of Stansfield making the call, a mobile command post and a Chevy Suburban arrived at the director's house. The mobile command post came with two men to monitor the CP's communication and surveillance equipment and two more heavily armed men to provide security. The Suburban had brought two German shepherds. The dogs and their machine-gun-toting handlers now patrolled the perimeter.
Inside the study, seated around the fireplace, were Rapp, Coleman, Ke
«It could be, but I'm not so sure.» Stansfield was speaking with a slight lisp. He was back on the morphine.
«Secretary Midleton has never been a big fan of the Agency,» added Ke
Stansfield looked over at Coleman. «What do you think, Scott?»
The former Navy SEAL thought it over and then said, «We don't have enough information.»
«We rarely do in this business,» said Rapp.
«I've gone back and looked at the map of that area where the cell tower is located.» Coleman shook his head. «The State Department isn't the only organization around there that has a beef with the CIA.»
«True, but they are the strongest candidate,» Stansfield said.
«We need to find out who this Professor is.» Coleman looked from Stansfield to Rapp. «He is the key to this whole thing.»
«I agree, but he's not answering his phone, and right now that's the only link we have to him.»
«How is Marcus coming along with the search through the State Department files?» Ke
«We looked at photos for almost three hours tonight,» said Coleman. «And we came up blank. When we're finished here, I'm going to go back to look at more.»
«This is the key,» said Stansfield. «You have to keep looking for this Professor. He has to have a past. People don't just fall into this line of work with no prior experience.» Everyone nodded in agreement.
«What about Secretary Midleton?» asked Rapp. «From the get-go, he was sticking his nose in this thing.» Rapp looked at Ke
«That's why I don't think it's him,» Stansfield said.
«Why?»
«Because jt's too obvjous. Charles Midleton is a very subtle person. If he knew the real facts behind what had happened in Germany, he would not have been so eager to call Irene.»
«I don't know. There's something about the man I don't trust.»
A rare smile creased Stansfield's face. It must have been the morphine. «Mitchell, how many people do you trust?»
Rapp smiled. «Not many.»
«Exactly. That is why you are still alive, despite multiple attempts on your life.» Stansfield paused for a moment, then looked at Coleman and back to Rapp. «I want you two to do whatever it takes to find out who this Professor is, and men you must take him alive. If need be, we'll have Dr. Hornig go to work on him.»
Rapp grimaced at the thought of getting Dr. Hornig involved. The woman was a complete sadist, skilled in the art of physical and mental torture. «You're setting no boundaries for us.»
«There are always boundaries, Mitchell. Just use your best judgment, get results, and don't get caught.»
«I might have to turn Marcus loose inside the NSA's computer system:' Rapp checked to see how Ke
Ke
«What do you think they're after?»
Stansfield looked into the fire. «I'm not sure yet, but I'm begi
The director of the Counterterrorism Center turned to Rapp. «Why didn't you tell me about the e-mail?»
Rapp shrugged. «I didn't think it was important.»
«Congressman O'Rourke is very important to me,» Stansfield said. «And it is my hope that in my absence, he will be very useful to Irene.»
«I don't see what the problem is.»
«Like all of us:' started Ke
«That e-mail might not have been the best idea, but at the rime I didn't know what I was up against. I wanted him to take me seriously and keep his mouth shut.»
«Well, you don't know Congressman O'Rourke very well,» Ke
«When do you want us to take care of it?»
«Tonight. The sooner you can calm him down, the better. Call him first, and see if you can stop by on your way back into the city.»
34
They began cruising the Georgetown neighborhood at 10:56 P.M., the standard routine. Starting four blocks out, they worked their way toward the O'Rourkes' house in a box pattern. Coleman was driving his Ford Explorer and was responsible for the left side while Rapp checked the right. They noted several vans parked within the four-block perimeter, but that was it. No individuals sitting behind the wheel of a parked sedan. Rapp felt confident enough to make the call. Besides, any idiot who tried to take on Coleman and him would be in for a very short fight.
Rapp wasn't overly concerned about his diplomatic mission to appease Congressman O'Rourke. Yes, it was a good idea to calm the man down before he started asking too many questions, but Rapp was confident that O'Rourke would have never gone that far. Rapp liked Michael O'Rourke. He was a good man and a good husband. With hindsight, Rapp had to admit it might not have been fair to get him involved in this mess, but no harm, no foul.
Rapp would have liked to put the meeting off until morning, but the truth was, it gave him an excuse to see A
«Michael, it's me. I'm sorry I'm calling so late, but I need to talk to you.»
«I'm listening.» The voice was detached and cool.