chapter 41
CAPITOL HILL
THE wide hallway outside the Senate Intelligence Committee's meeting room was crowded with staffers. Some actually appeared to be in transit from one point to another, but a surprising number were simply loitering - leaning against walls and clogging doorways, standing with their politically like-minded coworkers. Nash knew he shouldn't have been surprised. This was entertainment for a group of underpaid partisans, men and women who worshipped either the senator they slaved for or the party, or both. This afternoon's little event was one of the reasons they worked for scraps. Most of them could walk across the street and within a few hours land a job in the private sector making double what they were already making. This was what kept them from leaving - the proximity to power. The draw of powerful men and women meeting in secret to discuss things that would have far-reaching implications.
Nash stopped at the door for a moment and looked at the faces of the conservatively dressed staffers. Most of them looked to be no more than a few years out of college. Nash felt a pinch of rage at the entire system. None of them should be here. Nothing that was said inside SH 219 should ever be shared with these people. They were too young and too politically motivated to ever be trusted with national secrets. But they would be. The hearing was likely to last into the dinner hour, and the more senior staffers who were read in would come and go over the next several hours, relaying messages from the bosses back to their offices and slowly but steadily the leaking would start. It would start out innocently enough.
Moods would be reported, who was upset and who was trying to calm people down. From there the facts would start to trickle out. Maybe only ten to twenty percent of what was actually going on. That's what you could count on the staffers to do. The real damage would come from the senators themselves - men and a few women who were schooled in the nastiest game of all - politics. In the public relations arena they were the ultimate street fighters, in many cases willing to do whatever it took to win. There was a block of six or so who would uphold their end of the bargain, and another six who would hold their fire until someone else leaked first. That left two or three senators, depending on the issue, plus the four ex officio members who were the worst offenders of all. That was who Rapp was planning to meet head-on and none of them with the exception of Kennedy thought it was a wise move. Nash couldn't figure that one out, what was going on with her, but the whole thing was making him nervous. He could feel something bad just around the corner. What it was, he had no idea, but it was twisting his gut. The last time he'd felt it this acutely was right before the mission in Afghanistan when he'd almost died.
Nash shook the thought from his head and entered the room. He took both of his mobile phones out and handed them over to a staffer who stuck them in a numbered cubbyhole for him to retrieve when he left. No electronic devices were allowed inside the secure chamber without special authorization. As a precaution to prevent someone from pulling up his call list, e-mails, and address book, Nash had already removed the SIM cards and the batteries from each phone.
Nash walked up the small ramp and entered the secure portion of the committee room. He squeezed by a few people in the narrow inner hallway, opened the glass door to the main committee briefing room, and was hit with a wall of noise. The raised portion of the room where the senators sat was packed. Sixteen of the nineteen seats were filled and the area behind the senators was crawling with committee staffers and senior staffers from the office of each senator. There were at least two people for every senator and maybe a few more. And people wondered why they couldn't keep secrets.
In front of him were two rows of chairs and a long table where six people sat. Nash knew four of them intimately and the other two only in passing, and hoped he had no reason to get to know them any better. They were the CIA general counsel and his deputy. The two men flanked Kennedy, who was sitting in the middle of the table. Charles O'Brien, the director of the National Clandestine Service, was there as well as his deputy, Rob Ridley. Rapp was the last one, and he was sitting all the way to the left. Nash grabbed a chair behind Rapp and squeezed his shoulder.
Rapp turned around and gave Nash a confident smile. He was in a dark blue pinstripe suit with a white shirt and light blue paisley silk tie. "Glad you could make it."
Nash leaned forward. "Are you sure about this?"
"Absolutely," Rapp said in an upbeat tone.
"But you know" - Nash glanced up at the men and women who represented nearly one-fifth of the United States Senate - "they're nasty f*ckers, Mitch. They won't play fair."
Rapp laughed casually and said, "I have a few tricks up my sleeve. Just sit back and keep your mouth shut. You're only here because they asked for you."
"I don't like you taking all the heat."
"I don't give a shit what you like," Rapp said with a grin, "you're not running the show. Just be a good Marine and sit there."
The background noise reached a crescendo as the last two senators entered the room. Bob Safford, the chairman of the committee, and Evan Whaley, the vice chairman, tried to get to their seats but every few feet they were stopped by a colleague or a staffer. Nash had been told by Ridley that there had already been a great deal of fighting between the two parties, and various factions within the parties, over not just how this hearing should be handled, but whether or not the Intelligence Committee should even get the first bite at the apple. The Armed Services and the Judiciary Committees were both trying to stake a claim, and then there was the House of Representatives to deal with. There was a very real chance that they would all spend the better part of the next year testifying in front of all these committees and quite possibly a special prosecutor and a grand jury as well.
Safford gaveled the hearing to order, and the next five minutes were taken up by motions and a variety of procedural issues that had very little to do with any of the people who were called on to testify. It was simply the nature of the Senate. When all of that was sorted out, Safford took a final look at his notes and then flipped his reading glasses up onto his forehead, which was his habit when the cameras weren't around.
"Director Kennedy, I would like to say that I am deeply disturbed by the accusations that have been leveled against one of your employees." Safford's deep-set eyes floated over to Rapp.
Rapp raised his hand in case anyone had any doubt as to which employee the senator was referring to. Nash cringed. He could tell Rapp was in one of his insolent "I don't give a shit" moods.
Safford's lips curled into a sneer, but he didn't engage Rapp. That would come later. Addressing Kennedy, he said, "There has been a great deal of maneuvering in the Senate today. There are several chairpersons who feel that this issue of Mr. Rapp's potentially illegal and definitely unprofessional behavior would be better handled in their committees in a more open manner. Senator Whaley and I have managed to persuade them that for now this issue should be handled by this committee."
"I would like the record to show," Senator Lonsdale said forcefully, "that as chairperson of the Judiciary Committee I strongly disagree with your decision and plan on holding open hearings as soon as tomorrow to get to the bottom of this."
"I'm sure you will," was Safford's tired response.
"And I would also like the record to show" - this time it was Senator Russell Sheldon - "that as a former air force officer and prosecutor and current member of the Armed Services Committee I am deeply disturbed by what looks to be an attempt at a cover-up by the CIA and certain sympathizers at the Pentagon. I am shocked at the lack of professionalism exhibited by Mr. Rapp and expect to see him prosecuted to the fullest extent of the law."
With hunched shoulders Safford looked from one end of the curved table to the other and said, "Is everybody done, or are we going to have an open mike this afternoon?"
There were a few snickers from the older senators who were proud that one of their fellow bull elephants had put the young ones in their place.
"Because," Safford continued, "I'm not going to put up with this. Everybody knows the rules. Each member will get fifteen minutes to question the panel. Make your complaints verbally... file them in writing... I don't care. Just wait your turn. Are we all clear?"
A smattering of senators nodded, but most simply ignored the chairman.
"Now, Director Kennedy, is there anything you would like to say before we get started?"
Kennedy leaned forward and in a respectful but distant voice said, "No, Mr. Chairman."
Safford looked to his right and gave the okay to begin questioning.