Rapp ignored his friend’s attempt at humor. “Let’s go. The sooner we get this thing over the sooner I can get back to what’s important.”
Rapp turned and started down the hall.
“Have you seen Darren?” Nash asked.
Rapp shook his head.
“You know he’s upset… right?”
Rapp stopped, turned abruptly, gave the appearance that he was going to blow his lid, and then restrained himself.
“I just wanted to make sure you knew the lie of the land,” Nash said, a bit defensively.
“Trust me, I know the lie of the land and I don’t give a shit about
Darren Sickles and whether or not he’s offended.”
“Mitch, this is coming from Irene. I’d prefer it if you skipped this meeting, but she insisted that you be here. Why, I have no idea. So if you don’t think you can keep your temper in check, then I think you should take off.”
Enough anger flashed across Rapp’s face that Nash took a step back. Rapp said, “Let’s be clear about something. I know you have a fancy new title and a nice office at Langley, but you are not in my chain of command. You’re Irene’s message boy, and I personally couldn’t give a fuck what you think. If Irene wants me here then I’ll act like a good soldier. I’ll follow her orders, but I don’t need your personal input or
Darren Sickles or anyone else, for that matter.”
Nash was used to Rapp’s rough edges, but there was something more to this. The two men had been in plenty of heated arguments over the years, but there seemed to be some genuine animosity this time- as if Rapp now thought they were on opposite sides.
Nash took a long breath and said, “You’ve never been one to follow orders and I sure as hell don’t see why you’d start now.”
“Very funny, big man. I’m really not in the mood for your shit. I’ll play your game, but I’m warning you, that idiot Sickles better watch himself or I’m coming across the table.”
“Don’t let Darren get to you. He’s freaking out because all of this went down on his watch. He’s probably scared to death that this will be a career ender.”
“Yeah… well, I’m freaking out too. Joe Rickman is missing, and if we don’t get him back the bodies are going to start piling up from here to Islamabad and Tehran and God only knows where else. Good people who have put their asses on the line for us are going to die, and on top of that I just found out the man who trained me, who I’ve spent the last twenty-plus years working with, has terminal cancer. So excuse me if I’m not exactly in the mood to deal with these people and their petty turf wars.”
“That’s fine. I’m not looking forward to it either, but we need to work with these people. You said it yourself… Rick’s files are gone.
These people are our only hope. We need what they have. We need to know who Rick’s been meeting with. Somebody got on the inside and helped pull this thing off.”
Rapp slowly nodded. “I know we need their shit, but that doesn’t mean we have to kiss their ass.”
“Yes it does. At least to start with.”
Rapp mumbled something to himself and then walked away.
Nash followed a few steps behind wondering if perhaps Hurley’s diagnosis had affected Rapp more harshly than he would have guessed.
True, they’d worked closely together for a long time, but both men had an emotional side that was about as soft as granite. Nash followed Rapp into the conference room, closing the door behind him.
Standing to his left, in the far corner, were Sickles, Arianna Vinter and a man who he assumed was the DOD’s military attache. Nash had skimmed his jacket on the flight over. He couldn’t remember his name offhand, but recalled that he was a West Pointer. The room was standard government decorating. The carpet was a dark mix of gray and black that would serve to hide any stains, and a large brown table with a fake wood grain top dominated the room. In the center of the table was a tray with a coffeepot, cream, sweetener, sugar, some straws, a half dozen mugs and as many bottles of water. There were ten black swivel chairs arranged four on each side and one on each end.
Vinter held up her hand in a gesture to silence Sickles then smiled at the two men who had just entered the room. “Good morning. I assume you are Mr. Rapp and Mr. Nash.”
Rapp didn’t speak, so Nash answered for them. “That’s right. I assume you are Arianna Vinter.”
“Yes, please have a seat.”
Nash noted that she was much prettier than in the photograph on her government-issue ID. Nash looked at the man to Vinter’s left and noted the eagle on the patch in the center of his chest and the name on the right side of his chest. Reaching across the table, Nash extended his hand and said, “Mike Nash, Colonel. Nice to meet you.”
Poole took his hand. “Counterterrorism, right?”
“That’s correct.”
Poole looked at Rapp and stuck out his hand. “Colonel Poole, military attache. Mr. Rapp?”
Nodding, Rapp took the man’s hand but didn’t say anything. After a firm handshake, Rapp sat down.
“May I offer either of you anything to drink?” Vinter asked. Rapp kept his mouth shut and offered only a slight shake of his head. Nash said, “Coffee would be great.”
Vinter grabbed the carafe and poured a cup. “You strike me as the kind of man who takes it black.”
“That’s right.” Nash smiled. “Thank you.” Nash took the mug and set it in front of him.
Vinter told Poole and Sickles to sit and then she grabbed a seat across from Rapp and Nash. Sickles was on her right and Poole on her left. She directed her gaze at Rapp and in a sweet voice said, “Mr. Rapp, we’ve never met before. What exactly is it that you do for the CIA?”
“I’m in the Clandestine Service.”
“Do you have a title?”
Rapp shook his head. “I report directly to DCI Kennedy.” “I see,” Vinter said, placing her hands flat on the table. She examined her fingers for a long moment and then in a casual voice asked,
“Do you think I’m stupid, Mr. Rapp?”
Rapp didn’t take the bait. He instead turned to Nash and gave him a look that said, this is your show… feel free to jump in.
Nash cleared his throat. “Arianna, I’m not sure we understand the question.”
Her expression flared briefly as she turned her attention to Nash.
“I wasn’t addressing you. I was speaking to your colleague Mr. Rapp.
Now, Mr. Rapp, I asked you a straightforward question. Do you think
I’m stupid?”
“I don’t know you.”
“You don’t know me. That’s all you have to say.”
“I’ve never met you before and I haven’t heard anything about you until this morning, so I’m not really in a position to answer your question. You could be a genius or an imbecile. As of right now I can’t answer that question, but keep talking and I should be able to give you an answer in a few minutes.”
Vinter took in a long breath. “Do you think the president is a smart man?”
Rapp thought about that for a moment. The man had his strengths and weaknesses, but, all in all, he was no dummy. “Yes, I think the president is a smart man.”
“Well, the president put me in charge of this little hellhole because he thought I was the best person for the job. My team and I have worked extremely hard to implement the president’s plan and things were going very smoothly until you showed up this morning and shoved a gun in the face of one of our allies.” Vinter’s agreeable facade was slowly melting away, revealing her angry side. “I know you think you’re some hotshot, but you need to understand something. I’m in charge around here and if I don’t like you and what you’re up to, you’re going to find your ass on the next flight out of here. Do you understand me?”
Instead of answering the question, Rapp again turned to Nash and said, “I think you’d better field this one.”
“Arianna, we are in a unique situation. None of us are questioning what you have accomplished, but you need to understand-” “I don’t need to understand a thing,” Vinter said, slicing her hand through the air like a karate chop.
