Pursuit of Honor

“Mr. Rapp,” Ogden said in an icy tone, “it is no secret that I have never cared for you, or your methods. I am not alone in my belief that you are out of control, and have been for some time. That your unseemly techniques have been the single greatest recruiting tool for our enemy. That you play to our weaker instincts of vengeance and vigilante justice, and that while this may feel good in the short term, in the long term it is destructive beyond calculation. Your use of extreme measures-and by the way, I hate the way you use that euphemism to describe what you do.” She stopped and looked from one end of the dais to the other. “We all know what he does. It’s called torture. When you intentionally dislocate someone’s arm and then wrench that arm behind that person’s back in a way that is specifically designed to cause more pain, it can be described as nothing less than torture.

“While my colleagues may be willing to temporarily forget their oath of office and lose their moral compass, I ca

Rapp waited patiently and respectfully while she built her indictment of him. He ticked off her points one by one and plotted his counterattack. Never in his life would he again have this chance in front of this committee. He stole a quick look from one side of the massive bench all the way around the horn. Seventeen faces, at least half of them scowling at their fellow senator. A few more looked as if they simply wanted to get up and leave, and then there were Ogden’s two lone supporters, the senior senators from Vermont and Illinois, KoolAid drinkers if there ever were. Out-of-touch party loyalists who had built their careers on trashing the CIA every chance they got.

Ogden shook her head as if she were eyeing a disgusting child rapist and said, “I ca

The room remained silent for a few long beats. Rapp was at the far left of the big witness table. Ke

“By all means.”

Rapp pushed his chair back and stood. He buttoned his charcoal-gray suit coat and stepped around the table.

“Why is the witness standing?” Ogden asked tersely, as she looked sideways at Lonsdale.

Rapp knew this would piss her off. “I stand out of respect, ma’am.”

“It’s ‘Senator,’ “ Ogden snapped. “I’ve worked very hard to get where I am and I would appreciate it if you would use my appropriate title and sit back down.”

“Senator, why must I automatically defer to you, while you have absolutely no problem calling into question my morals, ethics, and motives?”

“I call them into question, Mr. Rapp, because the people of California have seen fit to elect me four times to the United States Senate, and I would be breaking my oath to uphold the Constitution of the United States if I turned a blind eye to your barbaric behavior. Now sit back down.”

“No, thank you. But before I address your points I’d like to ask a fairly simple question. Can you at least acknowledge that Mr. Nash and I have made certain sacrifices? That we have served our country with distinction?”

“Mr. Rapp,” Ogden said, her voice dripping with contempt, “there are millions of federal employees, and I would put you both in the lowest percentile of that group.”

Rapp felt his anger stir a bit. “Senator, I have been shot on three separate occasions in the service of this country. I received this nice little scar at the ripe old age of twenty-five.” Rapp showed her the left side of his face and craned his neck to show her fellow committee members the white mark that ran nearly four inches along his jawbone. “It was delivered by the man who was behind the terrorist attack on Pan Am flight one-oh-three. One hundred seventy-nine Americans were on that flight. Thirty-five of my classmates from Syracuse University perished, including a young woman whom I had dated since high school and pla

“Mr. Rapp, this is all fine, but I am not in the mood to-”

“Mood!” Rapp yelled with such intensity that a number of the senators eased back in their seats as if to get out of the way of the coming storm. “You call into question my morals and my service, and cast doubt on whether I have sacrificed for this country, and then when I defend myself, you tell me you are not in the mood to hear it?”

“I will not be spoken to in this ma

“Now you want to argue about tone. My insolence offends you,” Rapp said in a mocking voice.

“Barbara,” Ogden said loudly, “this is unacceptable.”

“You’re damn right it is!” Rapp shouted. “Our two worlds collided last week and seven of your fellow senators found out the hard way that you can’t appease these bigoted, sexist freaks, and now you want to sit here and condemn my actions as immoral.”

“Mr. Rapp,” Ogden said with force, “I hardly think it’s a stretch to condemn torture as an immoral act.”

“What about partial-birth abortion?” Rapp asked her.

Ogden frowned as if Rapp had lost his mind. “What are you talking about?”

“You were the one who brought up morals this morning. Not me. You condemned me for dislocating the arm of a terrorist.”

“A suspect,” she shot back, “who happens to be a U.S. citizen and is i

“I