Consent To Kill

Chapter 28-29
28

WASHINGTON, DC

She woke up before he did, and started for the bathroom. As soon as she stood up she noticed something wasn't right. The room came in and out of focus, her steps were unsteady. She reached for the door frame to steady herself and then dashed for the toilet. She vomited once and then a second and third time. She sat there for a few seconds, leaning against the glass wall of the shower stall and holding her hair in a makeshift ponytail with her right hand. A thin layer of sweat covered her upper lip, but other than that she felt almost immediately better. So this is what morning sickness is like, she thought.

Claudia pulled herself off the floor and regarded her reflection in the mirror. She looked pasty white with a touch of gray. Not very flattering. When would she tell him? She had been so close, even last night, but at the last second something always came up. Now she was worried that she would distract him, and they could have none of that. He needed to stay focused and get this over with as quickly as possible. She looked at herself and struggled with what she should do. She turned on the faucet and doused her face with cold water repeatedly. She decided to wait until they were done with this job. Then she would tell him.

She brushed her teeth and took a shower. She felt almost normal despite the fact that she was famished. After wrapping herself in one of the plush white robes, Claudia opened the door and immediately registered the unmistakable aromas of sausage and cinnamon. She remembered that Louie had filled out the room service card for breakfast and left it on the door before they went to bed. He was now sitting on the couch in front of the TV with a large glass of orange juice in his hand. Claudia wasted no time parking herself next to him and grabbing the other glass of orange juice. She drank nearly half of it before she set it back down. The relief it brought was nearly instantaneous. She pulled the metal cover off of her breakfast and started slathering butter on her French toast. Next came the warm syrup and she dug in. Her focus on filling her stomach was so thorough she didn't notice that Louie was watching her.

The local NBC morning news was on the TV. Louie was also wearing one of the white robes provided by the hotel. His brown hair had that bed-head look, and the front page of the Washington Post sat folded on his lap. He'd stopped reading the paper and the TV was nothing more than background noise. His undivided and very discerning attention was focused entirely on the object of his affection. Claudia finally noticed that he was watching her. She set her fork down and wiped her mouth. After taking a drink of orange juice she turned and smiled. It seemed a bit forced.

His eyes narrowed and he said, "Are you pregnant?"

Claudia blinked. "What?"

Louie noted that her response was defensive. "It's not a difficult question."

She tugged at the neck of her robe and then crossed her legs, draping her left arm protectively across her abdomen.

He watched her every move, knowing the answer without having to hear it from her lips. Gould reached out and placed a gentle hand on her forearm. He pushed from his mind any thoughts of personal hurt that she hadn't told him and instead said, "If you are, it will make me the happiest man in the world."

Gould tilted his head and watched her intently. Her bottom lip trembled ever so slightly, and then her eyes filled with tears. "That is, if the child is mine," Gould added.

The tears spilled over and fell down the smooth skin of her cheeks. She let out a half laugh, half cry and swatted at him. "Yes...all those other men I sleep with. You'll all have to take blood tests so we can sort the whole mess out. Of course it's yours, you jerk."

Gould laughed and pulled her close. He kissed her forehead and rocked her like a baby. He was smiling from ear to ear. In a soft, almost apologetic voice he asked, "Why didn't you tell me?"

"I didn't want it to distract you. I want us to get through this and then we are done with this life once and for all." She tugged at the sleeve of her robe and wiped her tears. "How did you figure it out?"

He smiled. "There were a few telltale signs here and there."

"Like what?"

"Well...I noticed when we were having sex last night that your breasts looked..." He gestured with his hands and groped for the right word.

"Bigger," Claudia offered.

"Yes, that would be the right adjective." He smiled and then added, "When I picked you up yesterday at the airport you were literally glowing. I thought it was from your brief stop in the Caribbean, but that didn't make much sense. You weren't there long enough. The giveaway, though, was your dash to the bathroom. I haven't seen you throw up in years. And then you came out here and inhaled half of your breakfast before you even noticed I was sitting next to you."

"You saw all of that," she said in a surprised tone.

"Claudia, darling, that's what I do for a living. I watch people. I study them."

She looked toward the window and nodded. And then you kill them, she thought. She sat in silence for a moment and then turned her attention back to his eyes. How could those caring eyes belong to a man capable of such violence? She needed to purge that part of him. He hadn't always been that way. Surely at some point he had been a carefree sunny little boy. Even as an adult, as a hired assassin, there was a gentle side to him. His father unwittingly pushed him into the arms of the Legion, and they had turned him into a killer. It would be her job to eradicate those instincts, to turn him back into the man he should have been.

She touched his face. "Now do you understand why this must be our last job?"

He nodded and wrapped his arms around her. "Yes. I do." He held her tight and thought about the very fundamental ways in which his life would soon be changing. Almost immediately, though, his thoughts returned to the here and now. The baby could wait. Would have to wait. They had to keep their focus and see this last job through.

He looked at the clock and asked, "Can you be ready to go in twenty minutes?"

"Why?"

Gould pointed at the TV. "I want to walk over to the White House and get a look at Mrs. Rapp."

She regarded the TV for a moment and then Louie. Part of her simply wanted to take the money and run, but she knew such talk would only upset him. We have the rest of our lives together, she told herself. Just get through this week and everything will be different.

IT WAS A still morning. Not even the slightest breeze. The temperature was in the mid-fifties and rising with the climbing sun. Louie told Claudia to put on the workout clothes he'd purchased for her and he donned his new Nike pants and zippered top. They both wore baseball caps and Oakley sunglasses. They looked like Mr. and Mrs. American fitness. Before picking up Claudia at the airport he'd stopped on the outskirts of Baltimore at a Best Buy superstore and bought a Canon 10D digital camera and a 20 x 140 zoom lens. Louie looped the strap around his neck and brought his left arm up through the opening so that the camera lay snug against the left side of his back. They took the stairs rather than the elevator and exited the lobby onto Farragut Square. There was a Starbucks on K Street near the metro stop and they took their spot in the busy morning queue. Louie got a small black coffee and Claudia ordered some herbal decaffeinated tea.

With warm cups in hand they headed south for the short walk to the White House. It was October in DC, so there were nowhere near as many tourists as there would have been in the summer, though there were still a fair number. They came upon a group of Asians who were being led by a private tour guide. They were headed in the same direction as Louie and Claudia and took up most of the sidewalk. At the corner of 17th and I, they stopped to take photos of some building of interest across the street. Louie took the opportunity to find a way around them and kept moving. He did not want to be late. A block later they reached the northwest corner of Lafayette Square and passed the statue of Baron von Steuben. Steuben was a German officer who fought alongside George Washington during the Revolutionary War. The White House and the impressive neoclassical facade of the Treasury Building were now in full view. Louie checked his watch and slowed his pace.

"When I was a child my father used to bring us here for picnics on Sunday afternoons." Louie kept walking and looked around. "My father was very fond of this park."

Claudia was surprised by the disclosure. Louie rarely spoke of his father. "Why is that?"

"Lafayette...the famous Frenchman who fought with the Americans in their War of Independence. The park is named after him." Louie pointed to the southwest corner. "Over there is General Rochambeau, the French hero of the battle of New Orleans, and in the far corner is General Lafayette himself."

Claudia looked to the center of the park where there was a magnificent statue of a man on horseback. The horse was set atop a large block of granite, frozen in time, rearing back on its hind legs. The rider was holding on to the beast's reins with one hand and waving his hat in the air with the other. The base of the statue was encircled by four cannons. "Don't you mean that statue right there?"

Louie scoffed. "You would think so, but that is President Andrew Jackson. It infuriated my father to no end that in a park that was designed to honor those allies who stood by America's side at the fledgling country's most crucial hour, they erect in the center of that very park a statue of, not Lafayette himself, but instead an American president."

"If it bothered him so, why did he bring you here?"

"That is a good question." Louie did not answer right away. They walked hand in hand for a while. Finally, as they neared the south end of the park he said, "Maybe it was my mother who liked to come here. My sisters and I were little then. It was during my father's first posting at our embassy in Washington. TV was very big in America...even then. My mother did not like TV. My sisters and I did. There was no better way to master the American way of speaking English than watching TV."

Claudia nodded. Louie had told her this before. "So why the park?"

"Anything that got us outside and away from TV. Our Saturdays were filled with educational trips. We scoured every museum in town, every park, every statue and then on Sundays if the weather was nice we'd come here." That seemed to give Louie pause and then he added, "My father both loved and hated America. He was very fond of pointing out, though, that the American Dream would not have been possible if it hadn't been for French aid, French naval power, and men like Lafayette and Rochambeau."

"And if it wasn't for the American Revolution, we French would still be ruled by a monarch."

Louie laughed. "I said that same thing to him one day when I was in high school. He turned so red that I thought for a second he might hit me."

They reached the southern edge of the park. Pennsylvania Avenue was all that separated them from the White House. That and a heavy, black wrought-iron fence and gang of heavily armed men, only a few of whom were visible. Louie looked beyond the fence. Out in front of the West Wing, TV cameras were set up and people were milling about. Louie picked her out almost immediately. From this distance he couldn't tell it was her for certain, but he was pretty sure.

"Here." He handed Claudia his cup of coffee and grabbed the digital camera. The camera was high-end, with a lens that cost over a thousand dollars, but it was very user-friendly. Louie turned the selector switch to the automatic mode and removed the lens cap. He brought the camera up and pointed it at the White House. He took one shot and then another, just like hundreds, if not thousands of tourists do every day. He moved the camera over to the West Wing and snapped off a couple more. With his right hand he twisted the telephoto lens clockwise and zeroed in on the reporters and camera people. He found her with ease. She was talking on a cell phone and laughing. Louie snapped a photo and then looked at the viewscreen. It was her. He showed it to Claudia, who nodded.

"That's her. What do we do now?"

"We get a closer look. We watch her do the news, and then we see if she leaves to go anywhere."

Claudia looked to her right and then her left. At both ends of the street were guard booths. There was another one ahead and to the left where they were headed. "There are cameras everywhere as well as security people."

Louie glanced at the roof of the White House and spotted two Secret Service guys wearing blue coveralls. Probably snipers. "Don't worry, darling. We're not going to hang around long. We're going to act like tourists. Do a little sightseeing, maybe get some more coffee, check out a few parking garages."

"Parking garages?"

Louie took his coffee back and grabbed her hand. "Remember that credit report I had you run?"

"Yes."

"Did you learn anything from it?"

"She likes to shop."

"So do you." He couldn't see beyond her dark sunglasses, but he knew she was glaring at him.

"I don't spend anywhere near what she spends."

"That is true. But we'll see how you fare when we settle down."

"Are you done analyzing my shopping habits?"

"Yes. What else did you learn from the report?"

"She has no mortgage; she pays her credit card bills and her car lease in full every month."

"What kind of car?"

Claudia finally realized what he was getting at. "Oh...you are good."

"Thank you, darling." Louie grabbed her hand. "Let's go watch her do the news."

29

LANGLEY, VIRGINIA

He didn't know how she'd found out, but she had, and she was as mad as he'd ever seen her. For the second time in a week Rapp felt like he'd been called to the principal's office. He stood on one side of his boss's desk, and she stood on the other. She wanted explanations, and he, for the moment, wasn't willing to give any. She was getting louder with each unanswered question, and he was getting more belligerent with each query. They were stuck at an impasse.

"I want to know how you found out," stated Rapp in a no-nonsense tone for at least the third time.

"How I found out is none of your concern."

"Tell me how you got your information, and I'll be happy to answer your questions." He widened his stance and held his ground.

"Listen," she pointed her finger at him. Her face was flushed with anger. "Contrary to what you think, you actually have a boss. I am that boss, and you have stepped over the line this time."

"Well, if you had gotten the IRS off of Coleman's back, like you said you were going to, I wouldn't have had to go to Ross's office and intercede."

Kennedy's fists balled up in anger. "And if you didn't have the patience of a hamster, you would have waited one more day and I would have taken care of it."

None of this made sense to Rapp. Kennedy had always been the most unflappable, professional person he'd ever dealt with, and now twice within the span of a week she was acting completely out of character. "Is everything all right?" Rapp regarded her for a moment. "Everything okay with Tommy...is your ex bugging you?"

Kennedy buried her face in both hands and shook her head. When she looked up she said, "You just don't get it, do you? You walk around in your own little Mitch Rapp world. All you care about is what you want. You have no regard whatsoever for those around you." She tapped her own forehead with her forefinger. "No clue of the chaos you leave in your wake. Chaos that I have to deal with. And you have no idea how bad it looks to have you go over my head like this."

"Oh...well, I'm sorry to have been such a burden. I hope no one around here got any paper cuts while I was out getting shot and stabbed." Rapp turned his head to the side and pointed at the thin scar that ran down the left side of his face.

"Don't," she yelled at him. "Don't play the martyr with me. I have always respected your sacrifice. That is not what this is about. It's about you being so bullheaded, and sure of yourself, that you just go and do whatever the hell you want whenever you want."

"I've managed to do just fine on my own."

"Yes, you have. But let me warn you, Mitchell, your luck is running out. You're starting to piss people off. The fervor that we need to wage this war on terror is already waning. It won't be long, another two to eight years, and the liberals on the Hill will be back in charge, and mark my words, they are going to launch a witch hunt like we haven't seen since the Church hearings. They are going to tear this place apart. That's what National Intelligence is all about. That was the deal they struck. They're going to use it to run roughshod over the Agency. To make sure cowboys like you are properly supervised and kept on a short leash."

"Well, then you'll be surprised to know that it was Senator Hartsburg who advised me to go pay Director Ross a little visit."

Kennedy regarded him warily.

"That's right," Rapp continued, "so while you're sitting here dithering about what's happening on the Hill, I've got one of the most liberal senators in this whole town telling me the best way to handle Ross is to go light him up face to face."

"You talked to Senator Hartsburg about this?"

"Yep."

"I don't believe you."

"Call him."

Kennedy glanced at her phone, hesitated a second, and then asked, "Why in the world would you go to Hartsburg on something like this?"

"The man's seen the light. He's on our side. Ross was the junior senator from New Jersey. Hartsburg pushed him on the president, so I figured now that he and I are such close friends, I'd ask him to give Ross a nice yank on his leash and get him to back off Coleman."

"And?"

"He told me I should go pay him a visit and make him pee down his pants leg."

Kennedy frowned. "You're not serious."

"Damn straight. Those were his exact words. He told me to do exactly what I did. Said Ross was well aware of the fact that the president was in my corner, and he'd back off the second I confronted him with it."

"And how did Ross react?"

She was fishing for information. Which meant that whoever told her that he'd met with Ross did not give her the specifics of the meeting. Up until this point Rapp had been pretty sure it had been Ross himself who had called Kennedy. Rapp assumed he reamed Kennedy a good one. And if that was the case, Rapp was raring to go pay Ross a second visit. "He didn't tell you himself?"

Kennedy shook her head.

"Who told you?"

"I'd prefer not to say."

This was the problem with two career spies. Neither wanted to give an inch.

"If you want me to tell you how the meeting went, you're going to have to tell me who told you." Rapp crossed his arms and waited. He was prepared at this point to walk out of her office rather than give her any more information.

Kennedy thought about it long and hard and then finally said, "Jonathan Gordon called me this morning."

"Gordon?" Rapp said in a slightly surprised tone. He'd guessed wrong on him. "What did he tell you?"

"Only that he was sorry that the whole thing had to happen. When I asked him 'what thing' he realized I had no idea what you had been up to. I think that was actually the reason why he called. He wanted to figure out if I had sent you over or if you were acting on your own."

"What did you tell him?"

"I told him I had no idea that you'd had a meeting with them. He said he really wouldn't have called it a meeting. I asked him to elaborate, and he said it would be better if I got the story from you."

"Nothing else?" asked Rapp. "No mention of the Coleman thing?"

"Only that he'd told Director Ross he thought it was a bad idea to go poking around in the private business of private citizens."

Rapp was pleased. Maybe this Gordon would be a good influence on Ross.

"So tell me the story."

"Well," Rapp paused a moment to remember exactly how it had unfolded. "When I walked in it was Ross and Gordon and two other people. I started off real polite, and then things turned ugly pretty quick."

Kennedy closed her eyes and asked, "What happened?"

"I looked down on the conference table and saw a surveillance photo of Coleman's warehouse and I lost it. I realized they were talking about Coleman. I told the two people I didn't know to leave, and then I reamed Ross pretty good."

Kennedy still hadn't opened her eyes. "And how did he take that?"

"Not well."

"He got angry?"

"Yeah."

"Which means you got even more angry."

"Pretty much." Rapp cocked his head and chewed on his lower lip.

"Please tell me you didn't hit him or threaten him with bodily harm?"

"Ummm...I didn't really hit him. I kind of cuffed him across the head with Coleman's surveillance file. It was either his surveillance file or his tax returns...I don't remember which."

"Oh, Mitchell." She opened her eyes. "What in the hell are we going to do with you? The man is the director of National Intelligence. He is my boss. Doesn't any of this mean anything to you?"

"To be honest, Irene, no. It's all a distraction. His job is a distraction. His new agency is just another couple hundred suits doing exactly what is already being done by at least three other agencies. Scott Coleman is a good man who has put his ass on the line more times than you or I could count, and I'm not going to stand by while Ross f*cks with him, just so he can send us a message that there's a new sheriff in town."

"I'm not going to disagree with you, but there were better ways to handle it."

"How?" asked Rapp indignantly. "How could it have been handled any better? The problem is solved, Ross has been sent a message, and Coleman and I can get back to targeting extremists."

"And if Ross didn't get the message? What if all you've done is make him angry?"

"I could care less if the guy likes me or not."

"You're too reckless, Mitchell." Kennedy shook her head. "Jonathan Ross is a man you might want on your side someday."

"I don't need men like Ross on my side. I just need them to get out of my way."