Страница 64 из 86
«Not on the phone.»
«When?»
«Right now. I'm only seconds away. It won't take long. I just have to explain a couple of things to you.»
«All right, but be quiet. Liz is asleep.»
A minute later, Coleman backed the Explorer into the brownstone's small driveway. Michael O'Rourke was waiting for them at the door with his yellow Lab at his side. Rapp and Coleman bounded up the steps, both men checking the street as they went. They quickly ducked inside the house. O'Rourke held his index finger to his lips and then closed and locked the door. He gestured for the men to follow, and they went down the hall to the kitchen.
Rapp went straight to the back door and pulled back the curtain. After he was satisfied that no one was in the backyard, he sat at the kitchen table. Duke immediately came up and dropped his snout on Rapp's knee. The two had met before, and Duke liked him. O'Rourke asked if they wanted anything to drink. Both men declined. O'Rourke grabbed a beer from the fridge and twisted off the top. He chose to remain standing at the kitchen counter.
«I'm sorry about the e-mail,» started Rapp. «I didn't do it in an effort to blackmail you, I did it so you would take me seriously.»
O'Rourke studied Rapp. «Who do you work for, Mitch?»
«I didn't come here to get into all of that, Michael. I came here to tell you that your secret is safe with me. There is no reason I would tell anybody about your grandfather and Scott.»
O'Rourke looked over at Coleman and shook his head. «Well, I'll tell you what, your secret is safe with me, too. So fill in the blanks for me, and we'll be even.»
«Michael, I'm not going to tell you what I do. Just trust me on this one. Your wife and the woman I'm going to marry are best friends. I like you, I like Liz, there is no reason in the world for me to do anything that would harm you or your family.»
He took another drink of beer and seemed to think long and hard about what Rapp had said. «You know, I like you, too, Mitch, but I'll be honest. If you're involved in the type of stuff that I think you might be, I'm not exactly crazy about having you around my family.»
The words hurt. Rapp didn't let it show, but they hurt. He didn't want this life anymore. He wanted out. He wanted a normal life with a wife and some kids. «I respect that, and if you don't want me around, I'll do my best to stay away. Just know that your secret will always be safe with me.»
«If you really mean that, then tell me who you work for.»
«Michael, you are a congressman. There are certain things you don't want to know.»
«Try me.» O'Rourke folded his arms across his chest. «I did a little digging into your past. There is no record of you serving in the armed forces, yet something tells me you have formal paramilitary training.»
«How is this information going to help you?»
«I want to know who I'm dealing with. Don't worry about the committee. I'd just as soon stick a hot poker up my ass than tell Rudin something like this.»
The comment brought a smile to Rapp's face. «All right, Michael, I'll tell you what I do, but it goes no further. Not even Liz. I've known about your grandfather and Scott for some time, and I've never breathed a word of it to A
«Whatever you say is between us and no one else.»
Rapp tried to think of the best way to say it, and in the process he was reminded of something he said to the previous attorney general. It was at a meeting during the White House hostage crisis. Rapp had overstepped his bounds and allowed his temper to get the best of him. But it was worth it. In the end, he got his way, and a terrorist he had hunted for the better part of a decade was dead. Rapp looked at Coleman briefly and then said, «I work for no government agency. I want to be very clear about that. I'm what you might call a counterterrorism specialist.»
«Okay… and what, may I ask, does a counterterrorism specialist do?»
Rapp was not well versed in trying to spin what he did, so he just blurted out the hard, cold truth. «I kill terrorists.»
«Say again?»
«I hunt them down, and I kill them.»
The congressman set his beer down. He was expecting something along this line, but he didn't expect to hear it in such a blunt way. After he had rebounded from Rapp's confession, something fell into place for O'Rourke. «Is that! how you met A
«Yep.»
«Were you involved in the takedown?»
«Yep.»
Coleman laughed. «Shit, he was the takedown.»
«What do you mean?» asked O'Rourke.
«He means we'll have to tell you that story a different time.» Rapp looked at Coleman and shook his head. Then, standing, he approached O'Rourke and stuck out his hand. «Michael, I'm sorry about all of this. Maybe someday after you leave office, I can tell you more, but until then, I'm sorry.»
O'Rourke took his hand and looked into Rapp's eyes, not sure what to make of the whole thing. «I'd like that.»
«Just remember we're on the same team.»
«Yeah.»
Coleman looked at his watch and said, «Hurry up and kiss your girlfriend. We have to get back to the ranch and check on the boys.»
Rapp gri
«No.» O'Rourke shook his head. «She called just after eight and told Liz she was going to meet you. I thought that was why you were here. I thought she made you come over.»
35
Peter Cameron flew down Maryland Highway 214 in his silver metallic Lexus coupe with Rimsky- Korsakov's Scheherazade blaring out of the car's seven speakers. He had bought the car under one of his assumed names. Cameron was in the process of disobeying Senator Clark's orders. He simply could not resist going to the house. It was too tempting. The home of Mitch Rapp. He had to see what it was like. He had to be involved in the hit. Senator Clark would not be happy, but if Cameron was careful, his boss would never know. He had called ahead and warned Duser of his arrival. The last thing he needed right now was the former Marine or one of his trigger-happy cronies shooting him by mistake. That was the other reason he needed to visit the house. If this plan was going to work, he couldn't have those clowns showering the target with bullets.
As Cameron turned off of 214, he looked at his mobile phone and wondered when Rapp would call again. Rapp had called every hour since they had talked this afternoon, and he had intentionally neglected to answer the phone. The last call had been around nine P.M., almost two hours ago. Cameron hadn't thought of this, but if Rapp didn't call back, they would have a problem. He decided not to worry about it. Rapp would call him again. If not tonight, he would do it in the morning.
He ran his car through its paces as he zipped down the dark country road. The senator's plan was great, but there were some areas where it needed work. Multiple contingencies had to be put into place in case something went wrong, and the odds were good that something would. Cameron had envisioned for months finding Rapp's head perfectly centered in the cross hairs of one of his high-powered rifle scopes. That dream had been destroyed by the senator. Clark didn't give him any specifics beyond ruling out a long-distance shot, only that he was adamant that it must look like a murder-suicide. The girl would be easy, but Rapp might pose a problem. He was not a man to be underestimated, and the trick here would be to get close enough to shoot him in the head. With the way forensic science was today, they would have to be very careful how they left the crime scene.
They would have to keep the girl alive and take Rapp first. Cameron had decided on the weapon. He would use a. 22-caliber pistol. That way, there would be no exit wound and no blood splatter. They would get Rapp to enter the house alone, hold the girl at gunpoint, and shoot him in the side of the head before he had a chance to do anything. Then they would shoot the girl with the same gun and leave. An anonymous call would be made to the local sheriff and then several more to the TV stations just to make sure the CIA didn't try to cover it up.