You see, he’s the only honorable man in all of D.C. That means all of you are expendable.”
“That’s enough,” a red-faced Wilson snapped. “Your psychological issues aside, I’m here in an official capacity and you are going to answer some questions.”
“Pound sand, asshole. You want to talk to me, you call my lawyer and set it up.”
Wilson grinned. “You already have a lawyer. You must have something to hide.”
Hayek had said her piece. She was shaking from the release of all the things that she should have said years ago. “Let’s hear it,” Hayek said forcefully, for all to hear. “Ask your questions. Let’s go.”
Wilson wasn’t quite ready for this level of vitriol. In his mind he had been nothing but supportive of Hayek’s career. They were two extremely attractive people, and it seemed natural for them to indulge in a physical relationship. In his mind at least, he was in an open marriage. “Nice try. This is a highly classified investigation. Why don’t you take a ride with us and we’ll discuss.”
“What in the hell is going on here?” The icy voice cut through the air. It wasn’t loud or forceful, but it had a tone of absolute authority.
Wilson watched his sea of agents part to reveal CIA Director Irene Kennedy and a group of men who made his gaggle of FBI agents look like a bunch of pussies. Her security detail looked a bunch of mixed martial arts fighters carrying machine guns and lots of ammunition. “Director,” Wilson said, trying to sound calm, “you’re just the person I wanted to talk to.”
Kennedy stood her ground, like a predator trying to decide if this was worth the physical exertion. After an uncomfortable silence, she said, “I find that hard to believe.”
“What’s that?” Wilson said casually.
“That you wanted to talk to me.”
“Come now, Director, I always enjoy catching up with you.”
“How could I be just the person you wanted to talk to when you didn’t even know I was here?”
Wilson smiled awkwardly while he tried to come up with an answer. Kennedy was no fool. “It’s not every day the director of the CIA lands in Bagram. Word travels quickly on these bases.”
Kennedy appraised him with cautious eyes. She didn’t believe him for a second. “I think it’s far more rare to have the FBI’s acting head of Counterintelligence so far from home.”
“We go where we must.”
Normally Kennedy would have been more diplomatic, but with one of her men dead, two missing, a fourth in the hospital and the entire Afghani government screaming for blood, she was in no mood for whatever Wilson was up to, so she cut to the heart of the matter. “What did you want to question Agent Hayek about?”
Wilson hesitated for a second. “I’m sorry, but I’m not at liberty to discuss matters pertaining to an ongoing investigation.”
“You think so?” Kennedy said, taking two steps forward. “I want you to think long and hard about how you answer this next question. Are you aware of the protocols you are to follow if you want to question one of my people?”
“Of course I am.”
“So you went through all the proper channels?”
“Agent Hayek and I go way back,” Wilson said, as if the entire thing was being blown out of proportion. “It was going to be simple off-therecord discussion.”
Kennedy nodded slowly and then walked across the lobby until she was just two feet from Wilson. She gestured with her finger for him to come closer so they could speak in confidence. Wilson bent forward at the waist and offered Kennedy his left ear.
“I am well aware of your history with Agent Hayek. Stay the hell away from her, or I will make your life miserable in ways you can’t even begin to imagine.” Kennedy took a step back and in a voice loud enough for everyone to hear said, “Now, in the future, Special Agent Wilson, if you would like to conduct an interview with any of my people you will contact my office to coordinate. Are we clear?”
Before Wilson could answer, a shrill voice carried down the hallway like a Klaxon. “What in the hell is going on here?”
Wilson looked over his shoulder to see the ball-busting Latino waddling her way toward them. His face went slack.
Shaking her finger at Wilson, she said, “You better have that warrant we talked about or I swear to God I’m not just going to have you thrown out of this hospital, I’m going to have you thrown off this base.”
Wilson had had enough altercations for the day, and he really didn’t want to stick around and answer more of Kennedy’s questions. “Sorry about the miscommunication, Director. I’ll be in contact with your office.” Not waiting for a reply, he brushed past Kennedy and out the door.
Kennedy watched with more than a bit of confusion. The blustering Joel Wilson was known for seeking out confrontation, not running from it. She looked back to a very upset Command Master Sergeant Sanchez, who was still making her way down the hall. Kennedy had spoken with Sanchez earlier and the woman had been very helpful in regard to Rapp’s care. “Command Master Sergeant Sanchez, what was that you said about a warrant?”
Sanchez was out of breath and flushed. She held a finger up to Kennedy and said, “Excuse me one second.” She turned to the young airman behind the desk and said, “Get base security on the horn. I want to speak to Colonel DePuglio ASAP and if he’s not available get me Major Callahan. You’d think we were running a damn zoo here.” Turning back to Kennedy, Sanchez took a heavy breath and said, “I’m sorry, Director. What did you want?”
“That man who just left. Did you say something about a warrant?”
She nodded vigorously, “He was trying to bully his way in to see your man Mr. Cox. Part of some official investigation he said all full of himself.”
Sanchez was still talking, but Kennedy was only half listening. She had the ominous feeling that someone out there, or more likely an organization, had gone to great lengths to cripple the Clandestine Service. Too many seemingly random things were beginning to pile up-far too many to be a coincidence. Wilson would be easy enough to play. The man had an infatuation with himself, and by extension a need to validate himself, by tearing down those who were not part of the Counterintelligence Division. Unfortunately the CIA was the perfect target for him. And Wilson had a reputation for tenacity. He would dig until he got what he wanted, and he wouldn’t play fair. Kennedy decided then and there that she was going to need to get proactive.
Chapter 32
Kennedy asked Sanchez if Wilson had gotten in to see Rapp, and if so, what he want. Sanchez retold the events in her colorful, clipped military diction and made it very clear that she wasn’t going to let that clown get anywhere near any of her patients. Mr. Cox was safe, Sanchez assured Kennedy. Kennedy wondered if she should suggest placing a guard outside Rapp’s door, but thought better of it. Sanchez was likely to take that as an indictment that she couldn’t do her job. A better angle was to bring Sanchez into her confidence.
Asking her for a word in private, Kennedy followed Sanchez down the hall about twenty feet and then said, “I need to be very careful about what I say since this is all very classified material, but I get the sense I can trust you.”
Sanchez nodded as if to say “you’re damn right.”
“Mr. Cox is one of my top covert operatives. He was working on something very sensitive. Another one of my people has gone missing and we need to find him ASAP. I think Mr. Cox might have some information that could help us, but unfortunately his memory is very spotty at the moment.”
Sanchez nodded. “Doctors told me they don’t expect that to last. Every day he’ll remember more and more.”
Kennedy smiled, “And when he does, I need someone there. With your permission I would like to have one of my people at his bedside.”
“Twenty-four-seven.” Sanchez frowned. It was obvious she didn’t like the sound of this.
“If at any point you think someone is misbehaving, by all means you can throw them off your floor, but I can assure you, Command Master Sergeant, like you, I run a tight ship. My people will be as quiet as church mice.”
