Pursuit of Honor

Rapp checked his watch. All four men stood there watching Johnson writhe in pain. Fifteen seconds later Rapp pulled the rag out of Johnson’s mouth. Before he could ask another question Johnson began blabbing. Rapp listened to a good minute of it. Johnson had been doing nothing even remotely legal for Sidorov, and if the power players in Washington found out what he’d been up to they would gladly pay Rapp every pe

Rapp took the rag and shoved it back into Johnson’s mouth. He walked to the rear of the van and Coleman followed him. “Take him to the Quarry, put him in a cell, and give him a notepad and a pen. Have him write it all down. Chapter and verse. Everything he’s done for Sidorov.”

“Can I dangle a carrot?”

“Hell, yeah. Dangle it all you want. Hit him over the head with it. I don’t care.”

Coleman looked doubtful. “Can I dangle it in good conscience?”

“Hell, yeah. This little snake has some talent. If I can trust him, I’d rather have him working for us than freelancing.”

“Shooting him in the foot may not have been the best way of recruiting him.”

Rapp shook off the concern. “I shot him through the outside of the foot. No permanent damage. In two weeks he’ll be completely healed.”

“Still . . .” Coleman gave him a disapproving frown. “I still might kill him, so don’t go all Naval Academy on me.”

“A lot of people saw you tonight. If he vanishes, there will be questions.”

“It wouldn’t be the first time, and once people find out what he was doing, they might not look so hard to find him.”

“Should I call Doc?”

“No.” Rapp shook his head. “I want to keep him out of it for now. Have Johnson write down everything he can think of. Every single time he’s strayed off the reservation.”

“You think there’s more than just this Sidorov thing and the job he was doing for Adams?”

“Who knows, but this could be a gold mine. Tell the boys to give him a little Vicodin. Just enough to take the edge off, but keep him awake. I’ll be back out there a bit before seven and I want him edgy.” Rapp leaned back and looked around the corner of the van. Johnson was balancing on one foot and crying. Rapp shook his head in disgust and said, “And if he’s dumb enough to hold back on the little dirty op he was ru

CHAPTER 46

FAIRFAX COUNTY, VIRGINIA

RAPP woke up at five-thirty, looked around his Spartan bedroom and thought of his dog. He supposed most therapists would tell him that was progress, since his deceased wife wasn’t the first thing on his mind. Time really was the great healer. Not that he was healed, but he was at least coping better. Before A

More often than not the border collie mix stayed with the Ke

Rapp really wasn’t one to lie around and wallow in his own misery, and he had a lot to do, so he rolled out of bed and hit the floor. The first ten pushups were always slow. He had to get the blood moving through the shoulders first. This morning he had the added thrill of a throbbing skull. The next forty were done at a precise clip. Every time he lowered his chest and hit the bottom, the pain in his left temple peaked and he was reminded of the big Russian who had almost knocked his head off. Rapp smiled, though, because as bad as he felt, the bouncer would be far worse this morning. That was the way of the competitive mind. As long as you came out on top, all pain was manageable.

After the pushups, Rapp flipped over and rattled off a hundred situps and then he was off to the shower. He stood under the hot water barely moving for five minutes, the day’s events cascading through his mind like the water down his back. It was often the clearest five minutes of his day. Oxygenated blood coursing through his brain. Hot water warming his muscles. The sound of the water falling on the tile. No phones, no radios, no TV, no internet, no one around to interrupt his thoughts. It was the perfect way to start any day, and especially this one.

He had stopped by Ke

The rock quarry was situated thirty odd miles west of D.C. Few people knew of its storied history, and for the people who now used it, that was just fine. It was a relic from the Cold War-one of the few places that hadn’t been declassified and leaked to the press, and that was due solely to the fact that it had never been on the books to begin with, and no politician in the last thirty years had been informed of its existence. It also helped that even at the height of the Cold War the place was rarely used. Due to poor pla

The place was laid out like an old World War II command bunker, with hallways branching out like a network of arteries. Rapp found Coleman napping in one of the bunkrooms and woke him with a firm shake and a cup of coffee. Coleman swung his feet onto the cold floor and took the mug from Rapp. After a few sips he scratched his blond hair and began to fill Rapp in on what had been an interesting night. One of the guys fetched the notepad and handed it to Rapp, while Coleman hit the high points.