“I’m here,” Lewis continued, “to observe and make sure we have the right people and that their minds can handle the unique stress of this job. I have stress, you have stress, but I doubt ours compares to the stress of operating alone, often behind enemy lines, and hunting down a man and killing him.”
“So you’re worried that he’s going to snap on us.”
“Not at the moment. In fact, I think he has coped extraordinarily well with the rigors of his new job. I’ve kept a close eye on him. When he’s back here, he sleeps like a baby. His head hits the pillow, sixty seconds later he’s out and he sleeps straight through the night.”
Kennedy had wondered about this same thing. Not every operative handled the taking of another human being’s life with such ease. “So how does he deal with it . . . the blood on his hands?” she asked.
“He is a linear creature, which means he doesn’t allow a lot of ancillary issues to muddy the waters of his conscience. These men . . . the ones we target . . . they all decided of their own volition to get involved in plots to kill innocent civilians. In Rapp’s mind—and this isn’t me guessing, he’s expressed this very clearly—these men need to be punished.”
Kennedy shifted in her chair. “Simple revenge.”
“He says retribution. The distinction is slight, but I see his point.”
“Given the loss of his girlfriend, I don’t find that particularly troubling. After all, this is a job that requires a unique motivation.”
“Yes it does, but his runs deep. He thinks if these men go unpunished, it will only embolden them to kill more people. To screw up more people’s lives,” Lewis answered.
“You’ll get no argument from me. Nor from our boss, for that matter.”
Lewis smiled. “There’s one more thing, something that adds a unique twist.”
“What’s that?”
“He wants them to know he’s coming after them.”
“Theory or fact?”
“A bit of both. He knows that he can make them jumpy. Keep them up at night worrying when he’s going to show up. He wants them to fear his existence.”
“He told you this?” Kennedy asked, more than a bit surprised.
“Parts of it. The rest I pieced together,” Lewis said with a nod.
“And why didn’t you tell me?”
“I’m telling you right now.”
Kennedy moved to the edge of her chair. “I mean, why didn’t you tell me when you first learned about it?”
“I told Thomas,” Lewis said, covering his bases.
“And what did he say?”
“He thought about it for a long moment and then said making these guys lose a little sleep might not be the worst thing.”
“For Christ’s sake,” Kennedy pressed her palm against her forehead. “As his handler, don’t you think you should let me in on stuff like this?”
“I’m not sure I understand your concern. I think he’s fine, and Thomas does as well.”
Kennedy pinched the bridge of her nose in an effort to stifle the headache she felt coming. “This isn’t the NFL. We don’t trash-talk. We don’t taunt the other team in order to throw them off their game. My men need to be ghosts. They need to sneak into a country, quietly do their job, and then disappear.”
“Irene, I think you are exaggerating your concerns. The enemy knows something is afoot. Bodies are piling up at an unusual clip, and if the fear Rapp is generating causes some of these men to be a bit jumpy”—Lewis shrugged—“well then, so be it.”
“So what in the hell are you trying to tell me . . . that you’re okay with Rapp, but you’re worried about me?” Kennedy asked, the suspicion in her voice obvious.
“I’m okay with both of you, but I do think you worry too much.”
“I’m worried about him because he’s about to kill a high-ranking official in the capital of one of our closest allies and if he screws up, the blowback could be so bad every single last one of us will end up in front of a committee on Capitol Hill, be indicted, and then end up in jail.” Kennedy shook her head. “I don’t know what your shrink books have to say about all of this, but I think a fear of going to jail is a healthy thing.”
“My point, Irene, is that Rapp is good. Maybe the best I’ve ever seen, and his target is a lazy, overfed bureaucrat. Tonight will go fine. That’s not what I’m worried about.”
Kennedy was so focused on Paris that she almost missed the last part. “Then what
“Mr. Rapp is unique. He has already proven his penchant for autonomy. He bristles against control, and so far, Thomas has been willing to ignore all of these little transgressions because the man is so damn good at what he does.”
“But?”
“Our country, as well as our beloved employer, has a glorious history of throwing those men who are at the tip of the spear under the proverbial bus when things get difficult. If they do that to a man like Rapp . . .” Lewis winced at the thought.
“Our country and our employer don’t even know he exists.”
