Protect And Defend

chapter 35
Irene Kennedy stood inside the cafe and watched Ridley and Minister Ashani cross the street. Both men looked back as they were about to climb in their vehicle. The meeting had furthered Kennedy's belief that the Iranian intelligence minister was someone she could work with. Someone she could possibly trust. She smiled warmly at Ashani as he waved at her. Kennedy held her black sunglasses in her right hand and waved back. She could have talked with the man for hours. There was so much they could work on. The relatively short meeting had reconfirmed for her that it was time to bury the hatchet with Iran. Especially if more men like Ashani were in power.

The rest of the men piled into the other two sedans and the motorcade sped off. Kennedy put on her sunglasses and wondered what she was going to do with Rapp. She'd known Mitch since he was a twenty-one-year-old lacrosse star at Syracuse University. She had recruited him, she'd helped train him, and she'd been his handler for most of his storied career. He'd been good from day one. A natural at picking up languages and mannerisms and customs that were unique to every city on the planet. His ability to immerse himself for extended periods of time on overseas assignments, with almost no contact from the Agency, was unique. There'd been plenty of times where the months had ticked away and Kennedy was left wondering if Rapp was still alive.

Somehow, though, he always made it back. And with each successful mission, he became less patient with his handlers. Less comfortable with the suit-and-tie culture of CIA headquarters. Over the years the insubordination worsened. Kennedy's mentor, Thomas Stansfield, told her the good ones were always a bit rebellious. They didn't fit into the bureaucratic structure of Langley. Their missions were too fluid to have real structure. Add to that the reality that they knew everything they did would be picked apart by people who had never been on an overseas assignment in their entire career, and you had a problem.

His marriage had seemed to help a bit. At least Anna had made him see the other side of things. After she was murdered, though, he retrenched and the circle of people he trusted contracted further. Any semblance of patience was now gone. Sitting down with Ashani was a rare opportunity. To have it cut short simply because Rapp thought it was dragging on was infuriating.

Kennedy turned to McDonald and asked, "Why did Mitch think it so imperative that he had to end my meeting?"

"There was a lot of tension out here between the minister's people and the police. It looked like a gunfight was about to break out."

"You can't be serious."

"Boss, I don't joke about stuff like this. Now can we please get you back to the base?"

Kennedy folded her arms and looked across the street at the second-story apartment. She couldn't see Rapp, but she knew he was up there. Kennedy shook her head and said, "Fine. Let's go."

McDonald signaled for three more of his men to come over. A fourth stayed by the rear passenger door of the Suburban. The four men moved in unison, with Kennedy in the middle. The director climbed into the backseat. One of the men followed her and closed the door. Another bodyguard entered from the other side so Kennedy was sandwiched in the middle. McDonald stood by the front passenger door and gave the hand signal for all the other men to load up. When everyone was in their vehicle, he jumped in the front seat of Kennedy's Suburban and gave the order to move out. The five vehicles rolled single file down the block and idled for a second as the police cars moved to allow them through.

Kennedy looked through the front window as they followed the other Suburban past the two police cruisers and turned left. She noted the dozens of masked police officers standing on the other side of the street. They were all in black hoods, holding either machine guns or RPGs. Kennedy reached for her Black-Berry. She pressed several buttons to take it out of silent mode and then, just as she was about to open an e-mail, there was a thunderous explosion. The Suburban lurched to a stop. Kennedy looked through the front window, eyes wide, and mouth agape at the sight of a fireball engulfing the vehicle in front of them.