Memorial Day

Al-Yamani asked, "Is Frank there?"

There was a moment of hesitation on the other end and then the voice said, "I'm sorry, you must have the wrong number."

Al-Yamani hung up the phone and walked out to the waiting truck. Zubair and Khaled were in the backseat and Hasan was in the driver's seat. Al-Yamani climbed in and picked up a map. He pointed to a spot and said, "That is where we are to meet him. At noon. The Richmond National Battlefield Park."

Hasan nodded and put the truck in drive. "We'll have no problem getting there early."

"Good."

Al-Yamani stared out the bug-spattered windshield, desperately wanting to get this last step over with. The man he had called was to have asked him what number he had dialed if he felt he was being watched. Fortunately, he had not uttered those words, for if he had, al-Yamani did not know what he would have done. If they could not link up with this man, all hope really would be lost. So much had been sacrificed, surely Allah would never let that happen.

Sixty-Two

WASHINGTON,D.C.

Rapp sat in the conference room at the Joint Counterterrorism Center and listened halfheartedly to the briefing. Walking away from it all was starting to seem like a good idea. There was just too much bullshit, too many rules, and too many people who weren't willing to do what it took to get the job done. Yes, he understood that this was America, and there were laws to be followed, but if there was ever a time to at least bend them-this was it.

It wasn't going to happen though, because that six-foot-tall blond ballbuster from the Justice Department had showed up with an army of lawyers to make sure everything was done by the book. In their minds, they were going to trial, and they sure as hell weren't going to let some spook from the CIA, or a bunch of thick-necked special agents from the Bureau, screw things up. The entire thing had turned into a farce. It pained him to no end to listen to these people yammer on about obtaining search warrants and ru

Ke

Waheed Ahmed Abdullah, whom Rapp had shot in the knee and tortured, was still in the CIA's custody, but he was providing mostly dated intelligence of no great significance. Rapp and Dr. Khan had both come to the conclusion that Abdullah's IQ was located somewhere near the lower end of the chart. It seemed his main function for al-Qaeda had been to raise funds from other wealthy Saudi families.

They now had an artist's sketch of al-Yamani based on the description provided by the British captain who had been fished out of the water by the Coast Guard. That sketch, and Imtaz Zubair's passport photo, had been sent to nearly every law enforcement officer in the country. Right now Atlanta was the focus of much of the investigation. Zubair had been tracked there after his arrival in Los Angeles and a hotel employee at the Ritz in Buckhead had identified him. An army of agents had descended on the trucking company owned by one of the men picked up in Charleston, and they were going over every square inch of the place and contacting everyone they'd done business with.

They'd also co

On another front, the Cubans had turned out to be predictably un-helpful. Both Ke

It was nearing noon, and Rapp was thinking about getting out of town early. He was to catch a 4:00 p.m. flight to Milwaukee and then rent a car for the drive up to his in-laws' cabin for the Memorial Day weekend. Ke

Rapp was not looking for medals or public accolades. He wanted to be listened to and taken seriously. In this regard, the president's apology at least kept him in the game, but for how long he wasn't sure. He was of no use in this current manhunt. Rapp did not operate well within the confines of large government bureaucracies. They moved too slowly, and again, there were too many rules. He was best left to apply his skills autonomously through a combination of stealth and brutal, efficient force, if needed.

Maybe it really was time to get out and save himself the headache. He'd have to give it some serious consideration, but for now he should at least check into taking an earlier flight. He missed his wife dearly, and saw no point in wasting a minute more of his time on an investigation that he considered a monumental waste of time and resources.

The big blonde from Justice a

After Valerie Jones had left di

Holmes would give her no details. He told her only that there were a lot of very powerful people in Washington who supported what Rapp did. People whom presidents, Democrat and Republican alike, went to for advice. Holmes warned her that one of the quickest ways to ruin her career, and possibly her boss's, would be to pursue this foolish course against Rapp. In addition, he told her to watch her step around Rapp's boss, Dr. Ke

Offering proof of Ke

Stealey, a skeptical person by nature and trade, decided to heed the chairman of the DNC's warning, but only to an extent. There was something about Mitch Rapp that was infinitely appealing. A certain recklessness. He was like an animal who refused to be tamed. The audacity that he had shown in front of the president and his senior cabinet members was breathtaking.