Transfer of Power

Seconds later Bengazi burst into the Oval Office, sweeping the smoking muzzle of his rifle from one end of the room to the other and back. The only two men in the room were Aziz and Chairman Piper. Bengazi's other men joined him within seconds and covered the hallway. Not daring to ask the obvious, Bengazi lilted his gas mask and retrieved a pistol from his thigh holster. He extended the grip toward Aziz.

Aziz threw Piper to the side. The chairman of the DNC stumbled over a chair and fell to the ground. He propped himself up on one elbow, still not quite sure what he had done.

"What are you doing?" Piper yelled with a look of utter shock on his round face.

"This can't be happening!"

Without hesitation, Aziz pointed his weapon at Piper and squeezed the trigger. The bullet struck the chairman right between the eyes and sent his heavy head thudding to the floor. A pool of crimson blood flowed from Piper's head and began to work its way across the plush blue carpet and onto the presidential seal. "I have been waiting to do that all morning," growled Azizthen extending his hand, he said, "Give me your radio."

Bengazi turned his back, and Aziz withdrew the small radio from Bengazi's combat vest. Aziz unplugged the headset jack and brought the radio to his mouth. With the gun in one hand and the radio in the other, Aziz started for the doorway.

"The president has made it to his bunker. Cut the communications immediately, secure the building, and take as many hostages as possible."

THE SMALL JET cleared the dark expansive water of the Atlantic, and within minutes the jagged shoreline of the Chesapeake Bay came into view. Mitch Rapp looked down at the familiar body of water with a determination and focus that had been missing just hours earlier.

When Irene Ke

Despite Ke

As the plane descended toward Andrews Air Force Base, Rapp looked out the window at the rolling Maryland countryside with a clear and precise plan in his mind of what he needed to do. In Paris he had hesitated because of a single i

Never again, he told himself. This would be the end of the road for one of them.

The Learjet set down gently and taxied to a portion of the base the CIA leased from the Air Force. As the plane approached a brown hangar, the large doors were opened, inviting the jet out of the sunlight and away from prying eyes.

Once inside, the doors were closed and the pilots shut down the engines.

Rapp peered out the small window and saw a group of a half dozen people waiting in the hangar's glass office. He immediately recognized Irene Ke

Director Stansfield stood in the sparsely furnished military office, the handset of a secure mobile phone held firmly against his ear. His SPOOR security protection officer, was standing next to him holding the rest of the unit, which was roughly the size of a camera case. Stansfield looked up at Rapp and said into the receiver, "He's standing right in front of me." The directors gray eyes then looked to the ground, and he nodded several times.

"I was pla

Stansfield handed the phone to his SPO and said, "Would everybody excuse us for a minute?" The four other people who had been waiting in the office with Ke

Irene Ke

"You need to get changed. We have a meeting at the Pentagon in twenty minutes."

Rapp took the bag and looked to Stansfield. He didn't like the idea of showing his face to a roomful of politicians and bureaucrats.

"Who was that on the phone?"

"General Flood. He wanted to make sure I was bringing you to the meeting."

"Why?" asked Rapp as he started to take off his holster.

"He didn't say."

Rapp looked at Stansfield with some concern.

"Am I giving a briefing?"

Ke

"Your credentials? Same cover as always.

Mitch Kruse, Middle Eastern analyst on my counterterrorism team. You have been with the CIA for five years, etcetera, etcetera…" Ke

"You know the routine. We want you there if the need arises. We would, of course, prefer it if you kept a low profile."

Rapp took the wallet and set it on the desk next to his holstered 9-mm Beretta. He quickly stripped down to his boxers while Ke

"Have you got an exact number out of him yet?" asked Ke

Remember that everything we get out of him is what he thinks to be the truth. As far as Harut knows, there are twelve of them, counting Aziz."

Hornig folded her arms across her chest and assumed a wider stance.

"What type of weapons?"

"Besides your standard firearms"—Hornig looked to Rapp, who was pulling on his dress pants—"a lot of plastique explosives. Mitch?"

Rapp grabbed a white T-shirt and said, "More than enough to blow the whole place to kingdom come." Stansfield shook his head and asked, "What about his demands?"

"I haven't had the chance to get around to that yet, but I'll start as soon as we get him moved."

Stansfield nodded.

"We have arranged to transfer you to one of the safe houses in Virginia.

You are to talk to no one other than Irene, Mitch, and me. Very few people outside of our immediate circle know we have Harut, and we would like to keep it that way. I need you to focus your questioning in the area of demands. We need to know what Aziz is going to ask for, before he asks for it."

Hornig accepted her orders with a nod and cautioned, "If he knows what the demands are, I will find out."

"And," started Ke