Pursuit of Honor

chapter 23

RAPP looked at his watch. He had a mental list two pages long of stuff he needed to get to, and sitting in his boss's office trying to persuade one of the president's closest advisors that torture worked seemed like it might be a waste of time. Rapp had found in his various appearances before the intelligence committees that you were wasting your breath if you tried to convince people in thousand-dollar suits who had Ivy League law degrees that torture was an effective and necessary tool against an enemy who refused to put on a uniform and intentionally targeted civilians. Given the right team and enough time to work on the individual, there wasn't a person out there who didn't break, but Rapp had learned the hard way that most politicians preferred an issue and a ready-made talking point to reality.

Rapp had tired of trying to convince people that it worked. He'd come to the conclusion it would be like a major league slugger arguing with fans over why he swung or didn't swing at a certain pitch. If you've never been in that batter's box, with some freak of nature perched a little more than sixty feet away on an elevated mound of dirt, who was about to whip a hard white ball at you in excess of ninety miles an hour that might or might not hit you in the head, you really couldn't understand what it was like to decide in a split second to swing or not swing. It's easy to sit in the stands with a hot dog and cold beer and criticize, and it's every bit as easy to sit in a federal office building in Washington, D.C., and do the same thing.

In response to Kennedy's admission that they not only used torture but it worked nearly 100 percent of the time, Dickerson said, "There are certain things I don't need to know." He smiled uncomfortably and added, "This is why I advised the president not to attend this meeting. This type of discussion is way off the reservation. Having said that, I sympathize with your position. Does it bother me that I am surrounded by people who want so badly to be liked... want so desperately to be thought of as enlightened that they are willing to tear this country apart? Yes, it bothers me. Does it drive me to the brink of madness that there are people in this town who think the way to peace is to afford tolerance to an intolerant group of bigoted Muslim men? People who should know better, by the way... Yes, it drives me mad."

Rapp felt a glimmer of hope. He couldn't recall the last time he had heard someone this well connected speak so frankly.

"It is utter insanity," Dickerson said, "that the Justice Department has four men in their custody who we know for a fact helped plan and prepare for attacks that killed nearly two hundred of our fellow citizens. All four of those men were born in Saudi Arabia. Two of them have dual citizenship. Those men know things that could help us find the three men who are at large and possibly information that could help us prevent further attacks. And what are we doing?"

"Nothing," Kennedy said.

"They all have lawyers," Dickerson said while making a hopeless gesture with his hands.

"And," Kennedy said, "I was told the ACLU will be filing a brief this morning fighting any extradition to Saudi Arabia."

"Why am I not surprised?" Dickerson answered.

"They think that we will hand them over to the Saudis so they can torture them for us."

Dickerson thought about it for a second and said, "Not a bad idea.

" Rapp shook his head. "Actually, it's not such a good idea. The Saudis like to say they'll share information with us, but they rarely give us the whole story. They suck them dry, and then they kill them, and we only get what they want us to know, which never includes anything that might connect them to certain wealthy subjects as well as highplaced government officials."

"So what do we do?"

"With the four men in custody?" Rapp asked.

"Yes."

"Nothing," Kennedy answered for him, "unless the president wants to sign an executive order that authorizes us to use extreme measures."

"And a blanket pardon would be nice," Rapp added with a smile.

Dickerson suddenly looked less than enthusiastic about the new direction of the discussion. "The president was hoping you would take a more active role in the search for the three men who are still at large. This Lion of al Qaeda character has really got under the president's skin."

He was under Rapp's skin as well. "So, I'm not going to get the blanket pardon?"

"I don't think so, but there is something else I think I can help you with. I'm not sure if you are aware of this, but there are certain elements on the Hill who are already maneuvering to make this Agency and you, Director Kennedy, the scapegoat for what happened last week."

Kennedy said, "I was not aware of that, but it doesn't surprise me."

"Well... you have a PR battle that you have been losing for some time."

Both Rapp and Kennedy nodded. It was universally agreed that when the CIA did something well, it was never discussed, but when they screwed up, it was plastered across every media outlet for weeks, if not months.

"I think I can help you more effectively defend yourselves. Get out in front of these other groups before they strike. I can help shape your message. Get it told in the right way over the best outlets."

"And just how are you going to do that?" Rapp asked in a skeptical tone. "The media elite in this country don't exactly like us."

"I've got something they won't be able to resist."

"What's that?" Rapp asked.

"You, Mr. Rapp."

"Come again?" Rapp asked, looking more pissed off than confused.

"You're a hero. What you and Mike Nash did last week is the type of thing legends are made of, and I don't even have to exaggerate your accomplishments. The media will eat it up and you and Mr. Nash will become untouchable. There won't be a politician in this town dumb enough to try and take you on. You will become this generation's Audie Murphy."

"You're nuts!"

"Mitch," Kennedy cautioned.

"No way in hell am I-"

"Mitch," Kennedy cut him off, "just calm down for a minute. I want to hear what else he has to say."

"Well, I sure as hell don't."

Kennedy gave him the look of a mother about to cuff her teenager across the head, and after he'd backed down a bit, she looked at Dickerson and asked, "In exchange for what?"

"He..." Dickerson said, referring to the president but not wanting to use his name, "thinks it would be best if you found these three men first."

"Why?" Rapp asked.

Dickerson took a long moment to answer. "Let's just say that he thinks you might be able to cut through some of the red tape."

"So you mean he wants me to put the screws to them before the FBI reads them their rights and they hire a lawyer?"

Dickerson shrugged. He didn't dare open his mouth, for fear that his words might be recorded.

"Boy," Rapp said in near disgust, "you guys are a real profile in courage."

"You know darn well the president can't endorse something like this."

"It sounds like he wanted to, but you got in front of him and convinced him it was a bad idea. You somehow persuaded him that you could barter a trade with us. A couple hundred billable hours of PR from your firm in exchange for me putting my nuts on the chopping block."

Dickerson had a pained look on his face. "I know it doesn't seem like a fair trade, but I think you're minimizing the potential upside. This PR offensive could get a lot of these politicians to back down. Some of them might even turn into supporters of yours."

Rapp placed his face in his hands and shook his head. After a long moment, he looked up at Dickerson and said, "Somewhere in this building there's a safe filled with a bunch of medals and commendations for guys just like me who've put their asses on the line over the years. We don't do this job for public recognition. We don't want public recognition, and we can't effectively do our job if people know who we are. So I will not be participating in your PR offensive, and if my name somehow ends up leaked to the press, I will find out who did it and I will hurt them."

Dickerson looked at Kennedy to see if she would overrule Rapp.

Rapp didn't give her the chance. "I call my own shots on something like this. Going over my head won't work. So... sorry to disappoint, but I won't be going on Oprah to talk about my top five favorite movies."

"So, I should tell the president your answer is no."

Rapp thought about it for a second and with a deep frown said,

"I'm going to keep doing what I've always done. You can tell the president that I'm going to find these three guys. I don't know if it's going to take a week or a year, but I'm going to find them and when I do, I don't give a shit what the ACLU or the Justice Department or anybody else thinks about how they should be treated. I'm going to find out everything there is to know about their organization... who supported them... where they got their money... where they got the explosives... how they got into this country, and if they got out who helped them. And then I'm going to track all of these people down, and I'm going to kill them."

Dickerson was more than a little surprised by the frank admission. "The president will be very, ah... happy to hear that you will be taking an active role in the case."

Rapp stood. He'd already wasted enough time. "Yeah... well, tell him if the shit hits the fan, I'll scream from the rooftops that we had this little powwow and you asked me on his behalf to disregard the law and do whatever it takes to bring these men to justice."

Dickerson looked as if he might vomit. In a deliberate, cautious tone he said, "I would... advise... against..."

"Don't worry," Rapp said casually. Pointing at Kennedy, he added, "I think she and I are the only two people left in this town who know how to keep their mouths shut."