Separation of Power

The President was having difficulty understanding the reasoning behind Rapps rationale. The entire thing was looking more and more complicated to him. He was sticking his neck out further than he'd ever intended. If Rapp and the Delta team failed, he was done. The combination of the Ke

Sensing his apprehension, Ke

Slowly the President nodded. "I hope you're right."

CHAPTER FORTY-THREE.

Iraq, Monday night

The four helicopters knifed their way through the cooling desert air like a snake slithering across the sand. They were not flying a straight route to Scorpion I, the designation for the abandoned chemical weapons factory outside of Baghdad. Instead, a predetermined course had been plugged into the Chinooks' advanced navigation systems, allowing them to avoid all villages, major roads and Iraqi radar sites. Cruising at just 100 feet off the desert floor, with only three hundred feet between each chopper, and flying at speeds of over 120 mph, there was almost no room for error.

In the cargo area of the second Chinook Rapp tried to think of none of this. When they were in the air it was all out of his control. From his seat he looked up at the two door gu

The big helicopter bucked, banked and dove its way through the air. There was nothing smooth and steady about the ride. Most people could handle it for a few minutes, like a ride at an amusement park, but to suffer through it for an hour or more could be incapacitating, throwing one's senses into such a jumble that the slightest touch or movement brought on nausea and vomiting. Rapp was used to it, as were the Delta operators.

One of the door gu

They hit with a thud and the Delta boys were instantly on their feet. The engine on the Mercedes purred to life, and the straps were snapped free. Less than five seconds after hitting the ground the car was backed down the ramp and clear of the helicopter. Rapp exited the chopper on the heels of the Delta boys and jumped into the front passenger seat.

The three cars sped away instantly into the pitch black night. Rapp didn't hesitate to put on his seat belt. The car's automatic headlights had been disabled and wouldn't be turned on until they reached the main road. Rapp could barely make out the car in front of them. Fortunately, the sergeant driving the vehicle was wearing night vision goggles.

The cars sped down the drive and forty-five seconds later they reached the main gate. As they motored through, Rapp glimpsed a man holding the gate open. He would be one of the air force guys sent to cut the lock and secure the perimeter. About a quarter mile down the road Major Berg's voice came over their secure radios.

"On my mark, turn on your headlights. Three ... two ... one ... mark."

All three drivers snatched their night vision goggles from their faces and turned on their headlights. It was crucial that they do this at the same time. If done while wearing the goggles it would cause temporary blindness. With the road now illuminated the team relaxed just a notch. Major Berg's voice came over the team's secure radios again and said, "Nice work, guys. Twenty minutes to Baghdad and then the real fun starts."

Capitol Hill, Monday afternoon

Hank Clark had his white shirt sleeves rolled up. His elbows were placed on his desk and his fingers kneaded his temples. He wished he were in his hide at the Capitol, but he would have never made it over there without being accosted by the media. As it was, his outer office was a complete zoo. There were at least three reporters with TV crews in tow demanding to speak to him, and there were another five or so print reporters just waiting for the chance to shove their damned Dictaphones in his face.

He should have been happy with the way things had gone, but something was bothering him. Clark couldn't figure out what he was missing, but he had the feeling that something was afoot. Ke

There was a sudden loud ruckus in the outer office, Clark was about to get up to investigate, when his door flew open and Rudin barged in. The bone-thin congressman slammed the door closed and stormed across the room gesturing wildly with his hands. "I knew you wouldn't answer your damn phone, so I came over here. What in the hell happened?"

Clark took a deep breath and stifled the urge to tell Rudin to shut up. "What did you want me to do, Albert?"

"I wanted you to tear her head off."

"I don't think that would have played too well on TV."

Rudin stopped in front of dark's desk. "I don't care how it would have played, Hank. The damn bitch admitted that she advised the President to raid my house. My fucking house!"

"I thought Jetland did just fine."

"Have you lost your mind? He came off looking like a pompous overbearing ass."

Clark was tempted to ask Rudin if he'd watched any tapes of himself lately, but instead said, "And that's exactly what I would have looked like if I'd gone after her."