Separation of Power

"Oh, I think you do." Hayes was ready to burst. He knew what Freidman's eventual excuse would be and he already didn't buy it. It was high time they started acting like true allies. "Does the name Peter Cameron ring a bell?"

Freidman was a professional liar by trade. He shook his head, and with absolute conviction said, "I don't think so."

The President scoffed at his answer. "How about Donatella Rahn?"

Freidman had been wondering where she'd gone and now he knew the answer. "Yes, I do, Mr. President. Unfortunately."

"Oh, why is that?" Hayes asked with feigned concern.

"I recruited her personally, to work for Mossad. She was very good in her day, but several years ago we lost control of her."

"Lost control of her?" asked Hayes.

"It happens from time to time in our line of work, sir." Freidman glanced at Ke

Hayes glanced at his watch and then at Ke

"Are you trying to tell us, Ben, that Donatella has not worked for you for two years?"

"That's exactly what I'm trying to tell you."

"You're a liar, and not a very good one. "The President picked up the phone behind him and pushed a button. "Send them in." He placed the phone back and watched Freidman squirm.

A moment later the door opened. Donatella Rahn and Mitch Rapp entered the room. Donatella went around the table and sat next to Ke

The President asked, "Would you like to amend your story now?" "I don't know what this woman has told you, but she ca

The President laughed. "Somehow I think it is you who can't be trusted, Mr. Freidman."

"Mr. President, I beg you. You ca

"For the sake of making some progress, I'm going to at least for now ignore your comment about Ms. Rahn stabbing you in the back. I would like instead to focus on something else. Explain to me why you've been paying Ms. Rahn large amounts of money and hunting her at the same time."

Freidman tried to act confused by the whole thing. "I have no idea what you're talking about."

"Irene. "The President looked to Ke

Ke

Freidman lied. "No."

"Good, then you won't mind that they were closed this morning and the money was transferred to us."

Despite trying to keep his cool, Freidman was showing signs of unraveling. He chose not to respond to the President.

The President looked to Rapp and nodded. Then he held his hand out and said, "Ms. Rahn, its time for us to leave."

Rapp drew his Beretta from his shoulder holster and methodically twisted a thick black silencer onto the end of it. Donatella got up from her chair and took the President's hand. In response to the recent development Freidman let out a laugh that sounded a little more nervous than he would have liked.

"Mr. President, how naive do you think I am? You can't intimidate me like this." Freidman shook his head disbelievingly at Hayes. "You could never get away with killing me. Especially not here in the White House."

"Oh, Mr. Freidman, I think you underestimate my dislike for you, and I think you overestimate your importance to your government. All I have to do is show Prime Minister Goldberg what you've been up to and by the time I'm done, he'll be thanking me for killing you." Hayes opened the door and ushered Donatella out.

"Wait," said a nervous Freidman.

The President motioned for Donatella to go on without him and he closed the door. "Don't waste my time, Mr. Freidman."

"What do you want to know?" Rapp asked the question. "Who hired you to kill Peter Cameron?"

Freidman squirmed. "That's a complicated question."

Rapp raised his gun and pointed it at Freidman's knee cap. "No it isn't."

He looked at the gun and then at the man holding it. There was absolutely no doubt in Freidman's mind that Rapp would pull the trigger. In the blink of an eye he made up his mind and said, "It was Hank Clark." "What?" asked a shocked President.

"Hank Clark." Freidman looked at Ke

Hayes, still reeling over the name he'd just heard, said, "But--"

Rapp grabbed the President by his shoulder and said, "Leave."

Hayes looked to Ke

"Wrong!" bellowed Rapp. He pointed his gun at Freidman's leg and pulled the trigger. A bullet spat from the end of the silencer and grazed the Israeli's meaty i

Clutching his leg in pain, Freidman nodded his head and began to talk.

EPILOGUE.

The Cosmos Club was Senator Clark's kind of place, especially around Christmas. The mansion at 2121 Massachusetts Avenue was a bastion of wealth, class, intellectual discussion, fine food, cigars and liquor. It was the type of place that would have never allowed Congressman Albert Rudin through its doors. The century-old club had rules, and chief among them was a sense of decorum. Differing opinions were encouraged, but loud divisive arguing was not.

The senator's limousine was cued up on Mass Avenue with the other social elites of Washington. He was fifth in line with at least as many limos and cars behind him. Sally Bradley's a

Clark was more than a little surprised at the lack of remorse and guilt he felt over killing Rudin. He found it very satisfying that he was the only person who knew the truth. Just three weeks after the death the case was ruled a suicide and closed. The police had been very easy to handle, Clark laid it all out for the detectives. Rudin had been depressed for some time, especially since a meeting he'd had with his party's leadership and the President several weeks earlier. They'd threatened to strip him of his chairmanship and do everything in their power to make sure he didn't get reelected. Rudin had been devastated. Blinded by his convictions, he tried to find a way to torpedo Ke

Solemnly, Clark told the investigators that he'd refused Rudin's plea. How he'd told Rudin that he had nobody to blame but himself for the mess he was in. "I didn't think he'd jump. The thought never occurred to me. Now I realize I failed him in his hour of need." Clark seemed genuinely remorseful and the police believed him. Much of his story was backed up by the President himself and even Rudin's wife had said he'd been in a dark funk for several weeks. Clark was never once treated as a suspect, and after a short investigation it was ruled that Rudin had committed suicide.