The bearded man patted Reynolds on the shoulder and passed him by.
“Who the fuck do you think you are?” The phone trilled in his hand. He looked down at it a moment, then answered. “Special Agent Reynolds.”
—
Dakota had already moved on. He and Harley walked up to the doors. Two other JSOC operators had begun looking for places to attach the breaching charges on them.
A minute later Reynolds stepped back up to Dakota. The JSOC commander was setting up a laptop and establishing communications with the CIA TOC.
The FBI negotiator stood next to him, waiting to be noticed. When he realized he was being purposefully ignored he said, “Okay, it’s your scene.”
Dakota didn’t look up. “Yep.”
“You guys must be—”
Dakota interrupted him. “Nope. That’s not us.”
“Right. Hey, look. No hard feelings. I was in myself. Seventy-fifth Ranger Regiment. Did five years.”
Dakota turned dials on his interteam radio. “Is that right? Well, now you’re a cop, so go find yourself a donut shop and get off of my scene.”
The JSOC commander walked away, heading back over to the doors to check on the placement of the blast charges.
Special Agent Reynolds stood on the landing fuming for a moment, then he headed down the stairs towards his car.
75
The three men sat at the conference table, staring at one another in silence. Kaz shook perspiration out of his eyes, struggled against his bindings.
Carmichael sat motionless, looking even more drawn than usual.
Court looked tired himself, but his focus remained sharp.
To Carmichael, he asked, “Do you know the identity of the man I rescued?”
“Yes.”
“What happened to him?”
Denny shrugged. “I took care of him.”
“Meaning?”
“I put a warhead on his forehead.”
“You drone-killed him?”
“That’s right. Peshawar. 2011. Once I knew his involvement in this, I took him out.” Carmichael went on, “You see why I had to term you, don’t you? If the Israelis knew my man killed Hawthorn, there would be hell to pay with them. And if AQ got wind of it they would use it to their advantage. A propaganda coup that would destroy the CIA.”
Court muttered, “So I had to die.” The strain and adrenaline of the last thirty minutes had drawn most all of his energy reserves.
Denny said, “Of course you did. Think about it, Gentry. Put yourself in my shoes. Why would I even care? Do you think I sit at home at night and ponder the fate of one damn trigger-puller? The work I have done in my career has created nations. It’s dissolved governments. A Ground Branch shooter thinks he got a raw deal? I’m sorry, but so fucking what?”
Court looked off into space.
So fucking what?
Softly, he said, “I can call Catherine King right now and fill in the pieces, tell her everything she doesn’t already know from the Mossad.”
Carmichael shook his head. “That’s not going to happen, and we both know why. That information would be damaging to the Agency, and the Agency protects the interests of the USA. You know how political winds blow, son. You can’t just damage a single element of the CIA by revealing this. If you try to destroy me for vengeance, you will destroy the entire core of U.S. intelligence.”
And Carmichael was right about that, Court knew. He wasn’t going to the media with this. Anything damning that Carmichael did would simply be used against the entire philosophy of human intelligence collections and operations. CIA scandals, as a rule, became political and ideological footballs, and the CIA never came out on the right side.
Court would not burn down the village to save it.
Denny looked coldly at Court. “Haven’t you done enough damage to the cause you devoted your life to protect?”
The speakerphone rang again. Court knew this would be the new team, and they wouldn’t be calling to offer pizza and soda. He found himself surprised they called at all.
Court checked his watch and he hit the button. “Who is this?”
A new voice said, “I have someone here who would like to speak with you, Violator.”
Court cocked his head. “Who is it?”
A woman’s voice came on the line. “Hello? This is Catherine King.”
Shit, Court thought; this was turning into a fucking circus. “I don’t really have time for an interview right now, Catherine. We’ll have to reschedule.”
King said, “Six, I have information you need. I have to come in and tell you.”
“Come in here? That would be a really bad idea.”
King then turned her attention to Denny Carmichael. “Director Carmichael. Please listen. I have told the men out here that I think I can stop this from turning into a bloodbath. It’s not necessary for anyone to die. Please let me come in.”
“Ms. King, it might not surprise you to know certain classified information is being discussed in here. Since you don’t have a Top Secret security clearance, I can’t allow you to come in.”
“Does Murquin al-Kazaz have a Top Secret U.S. security clearance?”