Intelligence Agency.”
“Oh,” Rapp said as something fell into place. “It’s coming back to me now.”
“Good. Do you remember my son?”
Rapp started to shake his head and then stopped because of the pain. “Sorry.”
“That’s all right. His name is Tommy. The two of you are rather close.”
“What happened to me?” Rapp reached a hand to his head and winced.
“There was an explosion. You hit your head. You have swelling on the brain. They call it a subdural hematoma.”
“Explosion?”
She shook her head. “I don’t think we want to get into that right now. The fact that you’re awake and fairly lucid is a good sign. The doctors tell me all of this is normal and with time you should regain most if not all of your memory.” Kennedy smiled and put on a brave face. Rapp was her top operative. Even at 90 percent he could be exceptional, but that depended on which 10 percent was lost.
“How long have I been out?”
“A little over a day.”
“A day?” Rapp asked in surprise. 15 4 Vince FLy nn
“Yes.” And it had been a stressful day. Twenty-one dead police officers, all killed by her men and an assassin, which further complicated the entire affair. She was sitting on that particular piece of information for the moment. The facts, as she’d gathered them, showed that Rapp and his men were left with no choice but to defend themselves. Those facts, however, didn’t matter to the Afghani people and their political leaders-at least not in the immediate aftermath of the slaughter. The president had ordered Kennedy to Afghanistan to see if she could straighten out the mess before the damage was irreversible. By the time she landed she was in possession of the information she needed. Her people had already identified the corrupt Afghani Police commander who had ordered the attack. The man had simply vanished, his government sponsored house cleaned out of anything of value. Contacts within the Afghan National Police confirmed that most of the police officers who were killed were former Taliban members whom the corrupt commander had brought onto the force. They were all part of the State Department’s vaunted reintegration program. Kennedy gave the go-ahead for her assets to begin sharing this information far and wide.
By the time she landed, the Afghans were firmly split. One camp of hard-liners refused to blame anyone other than America for the catastrophe. It was no shock to anyone who followed Afghan politics that these men were the ones who had pushed reintegration in the first place. The second camp was made up of the various groups that had fought the Taliban for more than a decade and had warned the first group that their scheme of bringing them into the fold was shortsighted and naive.
Kennedy arrived at the U.S. Embassy, and after giving Darren Sickles a very cool reception, she kicked him out of his office and called the president and his national security team. In her typical analytical manner, she relayed the information regarding the corrupt Afghan Police commander. The president asked just two questions. Did we suspect that this commander was a bad egg, and did Kennedy think this was linked to the abduction of Rickman?
The first question was easy to answer. The CIA had a file as thick as a phone book on Lieutenant General Abdul Rauf Qayem. They had warned the State Department that the man was hard-core Taliban and should not be included in the reintegration program. Kennedy relayed this as dispassionately as possible. The secretary of state would get beat up over this, and Kennedy didn’t need to pile on. They had a good working relationship and she wanted to keep it that way. The answer to the president’s second question was less clear. Kennedy wasn’t ready to share the information surrounding Louie Gould until she knew more. It was looking as if the abduction of Rickman and the attack on Rapp were part of a coordinated effort to damage the CIA’s ability to operate in Afghanistan. Until she had more information, though, she simply told the president that they were proceeding under the premise that the two events were linked.
Chapter 23
Kennedy spent another ten minutes with Rapp, both answering and evading his questions and gently probing to gauge the depth of his memory loss. His inability to recall information stretched across all aspects of his life. One pattern did emerge, though-his mind was blank when it came to anything that involved the last three days. Before that things were spotty, but Rapp’s recall seemed to get better as each memory fell into place. Not wanting to overwhelm him, she didn’t bother to tell him that in the middle of the night, the doctors had been on the verge of drilling into his head to drain the clotted blood that was creating pressure on the brain. The prognosis was very iffy at the moment.
The military doctors had ample experience with head trauma caused by explosions. Every case was different. Some patients progressed to a full recovery with nothing more than a week’s bed rest, while others never fully recovered despite the best effort and medical care. Kennedy would not allow herself to think the worst. Over the years Rapp had proven that he had an extremely strong ability to survive what would kill most people. His refusal to be deterred, despite overwhelming odds, while it often put him in harm’s way, was the very thing that drove him to never quit. Dying simply wasn’t an option.
His recovery right now depended on rest and relaxation-two things that were as foreign to Rapp as not barking at a stranger was to a dog. This put Kennedy in a unique quandary. She needed Rapp to find Rickman. There was no other asset up to the task. There were others who could help, but she needed Rapp’s fearless, ruthless behavior to deal with the miscreants who orbited their interests in this part of the world. Unfortunately, he was sidelined until the doctors told her otherwise. So far they were being vague, telling her he would likely be kept in bed for a week and then there would be another week of rehabilitation. A variety of symptoms could persist, including lethargy, slurred speech, difficulty in walking, blurred vision, numbness, headaches, amnesia, dizziness, and pain. The last part didn’t concern Kennedy. Rapp’s pain threshold was off the charts. She was betting that he would recover way ahead of the curve, but she couldn’t count on that, so she told him she had some things to attend to, but she’d be back to see him in a bit.
Kennedy found one of the doctors in the hall, an Air Force major, and told him that Rapp was awake. She filled him in on their conversation, and the doctor said this was a very positive development. He then excused himself and went to personally check on his patient.
Kennedy found Coleman in the small lounge with two of her bodyguards. She asked her men for a bit of privacy and sat down next to Coleman.
Kennedy grabbed Coleman’s hand. “You know you saved his life.” Coleman was embarrassed. “Let’s not get all melodramatic.” An uncharacteristically big smile spread across Kennedy’s face. “I don’t think you understand. You’ll be able to hold this over his head for years.”
Coleman joined in with a big grin. “Good point. The only problem is that I think he’s saved my life at least twice. I’m still behind.”
“His memory is a little shaky at the moment. Maybe he’ll forget he’s ahead. I’ll never tell him.”
“He’s awake?”
Kennedy nodded.
Coleman breathed a sigh of relief. “Thank God. How’s he doing?”
“He seems to be okay, but he doesn’t remember much.”
“What does that mean?”
“I’m not sure he knew who I was when he woke up. He recognized me, but he had to struggle to come up with my name. He remembered his own name, but he couldn’t tell me where he worked… at least not at first. As we talked, more and more things seemed to fall into place.”
“Rick?”
“No idea. In fact I don’t think he can remember a single detail over the past seventy-two hours.”
“Shit.” Coleman dropped his face into his hands. “So he’s out of commission.”
“I’d say for at least the next week.”
“What are we going to do?”
