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It was possible that Rosenthal had killed her and disposed of her body without anyone knowing. That was what Freidman had asked him to do. Maybe Rosenthal had run into a few problems and it was taking longer to get out of Italy and back to Israel. Anything was still possible, but with each passing hour of silence, the chances that things had gone according to plan diminished. At this stage Freidman had no choice but to try to stay calm, despite the fact that his gut told him Donatella had not gone down without a fight.
He'd trained her. He should have known better. It was the damn money Senator Clark waved in his face. He should have firmly told him not to worry. That he knew Donatella, and she would keep her mouth shut. Freidman had to be honest with himself, though. It was more than just the money. Donatella was a bit of a loose ca
No, Freidman decided. It hadn't been a mistake to go after her. It had been a mistake to not send more people. Freidman needed to start working on a cover story. Rosenthal couldn't go missing for too many more days without some people starting to ask where he was. Why had he sent Rosenthal to Italy? That would be the first hurdle to overcome. He felt confident that he could come up with a pretty good lie to handle that problem, but if Donatella was still alive, and she started making waves, he could be in big trouble. Freidman grabbed his phone and punched in an extension. A moment later a woman answered and he said, "I need you in my office right now." He hung up and wondered how much he'd have to tell this one. Not much, he decided. She could go to Milan and start digging around. Hopefully, Rosenthal would contact him and report that the mission was a success, before she even got there. Freidman knew the chances of that happening were between slim and none."
CHAPTER THIRTY-TWO.
Capitol Hill, Friday afternoon
The motorcade of two government sedans and a limousine pulled up to the loading dock of the Hart Senate Office Building. Normally they would have used the front of the building, but today it was swarming with media. Dr. Irene Ke
She used the room's private bathroom to wash her hands and check her makeup. She'd applied an unusually heavy amount today knowing that she'd be on TV. She touched up her lips a bit and put some more powder on her nose and forehead. Looking into the mirror she told herself, No matter what happens stay calm, and don't be afraid to say, I don't know.
Ke
Ke
"Irene, how many times do I have to tell you, it's Hank when we're alone like this." He placed a hand on her shoulder. "I could never get your boss. God rest his soul, to call me by my first name, but he was twenty years my senior so I cut him a little slack." Clark winked at Ke
"Good. Now, are you nervous at all? Is there anything I can get you before we go out there?"
"No, I'm fine, thank you."
Clark looked down at the diminutive Ke
"I know. I've seen him do it plenty of times."
"I'll do my best to keep him in line along with any others who might get a little unruly, but ultimately it's up to you to handle them."
"I know. I've done this before, Hank."
"But you've never done it in front of all these cameras and reporters." There was no smile on his face. "Be very careful what you say in front of this crowd. One slipup and they'll pile on."
Ke
"Well, you're the only show this afternoon, so when you're ready, we'll go." Clark pointed toward the door with his thumb.
"I'm ready"
Clark gave her another warm smile and then wrapped his arms around her for a hug. "Good luck out there." He released her and said, "Let's go make history."
Ke
The gallery was filled with reporters and TV crews. Today was an historic moment. The first woman ever nominated to run the CIA was about to begin her confirmation hearing. The hearing was not scheduled to be aired live by any of the networks or major cable outlets other than C-SPAN, but every network was there to get a clip for what would be the lead story on the nightly news.
As Ke
Ke