Separation of Power

For the first time in Rapp's career in counterterrorism he was confronted with a very ugly side of his business, the possibility that he had become a liability. And in his world, liabilities had a tendency to be erased from the balance sheet. Rapp could think of nothing worse than being betrayed by either Stansfield or Ke

Rapp wanted out. There would be no more targets, no more assassinations. He wanted to be done with death, and move on to creating some life of his own. He loved A

He had to find out who in the hell had hired Peter Cameron and why. It was one thing to have to look over his shoulder when he traveled in the Middle East, but it was an entirely different matter to do it here in the U. S. It would be no way to raise a family, worrying every time he left the house that someone would harm his loved ones. No, Rapp knew he would have to see this thing through to the end. Most probably a bloody one.

By the time he arrived at the main gate of the CIA he was already five minutes late for his 10:00 a. m. meeting. As he approached the intimidating checkpoint he stayed to the left and got into one of the employee lanes. At the barrier he stopped his car and showed his fake credentials to a black-clad man from the CIA's Office of Security. The man had an MP-5 submachine gun slung across his chest and a bulky automatic in a nylon holster at his hip. A dozen more of his compatriots were out on post monitoring the gate, and there were even more standing behind the tinted bulletproof glass and brick of the blockhouse that was dressed up to look like a fancy highway weigh station. The unseen men and women inside carried even bigger guns plus a stash of LAW 80 shoulder-launched rockets just in case some heavy vehicle tried to crash its way onto the grounds. The CIA took its security very seriously. The man studied Rapp's credentials for a moment and then handed them back to him. "Have a nice day, sir."

Rapp nodded and drove ahead, passing through the bright yellow spring-loaded crash barricades. The heavy steel devices were designed to pop up at a moment's notice to bar any unauthorized entry and potential car bombers. He proceeded to the underground parking garage of the Old Headquarters Building where he had to again show his credentials. He parked in a spot reserved for visitors to the director's suite, and passed through an unmarked door into a small lobby. Another guard was waiting and gestured for him to enter the elevator. Rapp stepped in by himself and the doors closed. The elevator went straight from the underground garage to the director's suite on the seventh floor. When the door opened two stocky men in suits were waiting for him. The shorter of the two looked Rapp over from head to toe and gestured for him to enter the office of the director's administrative assistant.

Rapp did so without comment and stepped into the spacious office. The woman behind the desk stood and surprised him by saying, "Good morning, Mr. Rapp. Could I get you anything to drink before your meeting?"

"Coffee would be fine." He wondered how the woman knew his real name.

"Any cream or sugar?"

"No thanks. Just black." She pressed a button on one of three phones and said, "Dr. Ke

"Thank you, Dottie. Send him in."

Dottie got up from behind her desk and poured Rapp a mug of coffee in a blue Central Intelligence Agency mug. After handing the mug over to Rapp she showed him into Dr. Ke

Ke

Ke

"Sorry about the mess. They moved everything from my old office while I was at the funeral." Ke

He held the coffee mug clear and wrapped his free hand around her waist. After kissing her cheek he said, "I'm sorry I couldn't make it to the funeral, but things are a little--"

"No need to explain." Ke

"Well, you know I always had a lot of respect for the old codger."

Ke

Rapp shrugged off the words, uncomfortable, as always, with praise.

"Well, he did. He told me once that in all the years he had been in this business he thought you might be the best." Ke

Beyond all of that, she needed someone inside the Agency to watch her back. The blown operation in Germany still loomed large. Someone out there knew things they were not supposed to. They either worked at the Agency or they had someone who did. Ke