Separation of Power

chapter FORTY-NINE

The White House, one week later

The President stood in front of the fireplace in the Oval Office. The cameras snapped away and flashes filled the room. On his left was Yasser Arafat, and on his right Prime Minister Goldberg of Israel. It had been a great week for Hayes. His poll numbers were through the roof. He had a mandate to get things done both in Washington and on the international stage. Even the press was fawning over him. There wasn't a country in the Middle East, including Iran, that wasn't relieved that Hayes had pulled the teeth from Saddam's arsenal. Saddam was screaming bloody murder over the raid, but no one was listening. Hayes had carried the day.

The President's chief of staff stepped in front of the press pool and said, "Okay, that's it for now. Thank you "Jones ushered them toward the door gesturing with her arms like she was moving livestock into a corral.

When the press was gone the President turned to his guests and said, "Something has come up that I need to attend to. It shouldn't take long. My chief of staff will take you into the Roosevelt Room and get things started."

Hayes smiled at both men and left the Oval Office. As soon as he reached the hallway, the smile vanished. He traveled by himself down to the basement. When he reached the Situation Room he entered and closed the door behind him. Irene Kennedy was sitting on one side of the table and her Israeli counterpart was sitting across the table. Ben Freidman stood immediately and said, "Mr. President, thank you for your invitation to come to the White House."

Hayes stood behind his leather chair, his hands resting on the back. This was Kennedy's plan, and he was more than willing to play his part. "You'll excuse me if I got you to travel all this way on a less than honest pretense, but I don't think you would have made the trip if I'd told you the real reason I wanted to talk to you."

The smile melted from Freidman's face as warning flags went up.

"Sit." Hayes pointed toward the Israeli's chair. Reluctantly the intelligence chief sat. "Is there anything you'd like to get off your chest?" asked Hayes.

Freidman scrambled to come up with the source of the President's are. He'd just spent the entire morning with Kennedy and it had been very pleasant. No sign whatsoever that something was wrong. He looked across the table for her assistance and all he got was an inquiring glance. He turned to the President and said, "I'm sorry, sir, but I'm not quite sure I understand."

"Oh, I think you do." Hayes was ready to burst. He knew what Freidman's eventual excuse would be and he already didn't buy it. It was high time they started acting like true allies. "Does the name Peter Cameron ring a bell?"

Freidman was a professional liar by trade. He shook his head, and with absolute conviction said, "I don't think so."

The President scoffed at his answer. "How about Donatella Rahn?"

Freidman had been wondering where she'd gone and now he knew the answer. "Yes, I do, Mr. President. Unfortunately."

"Oh, why is that?" Hayes asked with feigned concern.

"I recruited her personally, to work for Mossad. She was very good in her day, but several years ago we lost control of her."

"Lost control of her?" asked Hayes.

"It happens from time to time in our line of work, sir." Freidman glanced at Kennedy. "We don't have the best retirement plan and there are people who are willing to pay a lot of money for someone with Donatella's skills."

Hayes glanced at his watch and then at Kennedy. "I don't have time for this B. S"

"Are you trying to tell us, Ben, that Donatella has not worked for you for two years?"

"That's exactly what I'm trying to tell you."

"You're a liar, and not a very good one. "The President picked up the phone behind him and pushed a button. "Send them in." He placed the phone back and watched Freidman squirm.

A moment later the door opened. Donatella Rahn and Mitch Rapp entered the room. Donatella went around the table and sat next to Kennedy. Rapp stood next to the President and glared at Freidman.

The President asked, "Would you like to amend your story now?" "I don't know what this woman has told you, but she cannot be trusted." Freidman's forehead was beginning to glisten with sweat.

The President laughed. "Somehow I think it is you who can't be trusted, Mr. Freidman."

"Mr. President, I beg you. You cannot listen to this woman. She has stabbed my country in the back. We have been hunting her for almost a year."

"For the sake of making some progress, I'm going to at least for now ignore your comment about Ms. Rahn stabbing you in the back. I would like instead to focus on something else. Explain to me why you've been paying Ms. Rahn large amounts of money and hunting her at the same time."

Freidman tried to act confused by the whole thing. "I have no idea what you're talking about."

"Irene. "The President looked to Kennedy.

Kennedy produced a file, opened it and slid it across the table. They were the Swiss bank accounts that Freidman used to hide money from his own government. With Donatella's help, Marcus Dumond, the CIA's top hacker, had obtained this information and much more. The President asked, "Do you recognize these bank accounts?"

Freidman lied. "No."

"Good, then you won't mind that they were closed this morning and the money was transferred to us."

Despite trying to keep his cool, Freidman was showing signs of unraveling. He chose not to respond to the President.

The President looked to Rapp and nodded. Then he held his hand out and said, "Ms. Rahn, its time for us to leave."

Rapp drew his Beretta from his shoulder holster and methodically twisted a thick black silencer onto the end of it. Donatella got up from her chair and took the President's hand. In response to the recent development Freidman let out a laugh that sounded a little more nervous than he would have liked.

"Mr. President, how naive do you think I am? You can't intimidate me like this." Freidman shook his head disbelievingly at Hayes. "You could never get away with killing me. Especially not here in the White House."

"Oh, Mr. Freidman, I think you underestimate my dislike for you, and I think you overestimate your importance to your government. All I have to do is show Prime Minister Goldberg what you've been up to and by the time I'm done, he'll be thanking me for killing you." Hayes opened the door and ushered Donatella out.

"Wait," said a nervous Freidman.

The President motioned for Donatella to go on without him and he closed the door. "Don't waste my time, Mr. Freidman."

"What do you want to know?" Rapp asked the question. "Who hired you to kill Peter Cameron?"

Freidman squirmed. "That's a complicated question."

Rapp raised his gun and pointed it at Freidman's knee cap. "No it isn't."

He looked at the gun and then at the man holding it. There was absolutely no doubt in Freidman's mind that Rapp would pull the trigger. In the blink of an eye he made up his mind and said, "It was Hank Clark." "What?" asked a shocked President.

"Hank Clark." Freidman looked at Kennedy and said. "Give me my money back, and I'll tell you everything I know." Rapp turned to the President and said, "I'd like you to leave now."

Hayes, still reeling over the name he'd just heard, said, "But--"

Rapp grabbed the President by his shoulder and said, "Leave."

Hayes looked to Kennedy for guidance. She nodded and looked at the door. After a moment of hesitation he reluctantly left the room. When he was gone Freidman breathed a sigh of relief and said to Kennedy, "Good. Now we can deal."

"Wrong!" bellowed Rapp. He pointed his gun at Freidman's leg and pulled the trigger. A bullet spat from the end of the silencer and grazed the Israeli's meaty inner thigh. Freidman lurched back in his chair and grabbed his leg in a mix of shock and pain. Rapp moved the weapon back to Freidman's knee and through clenched teeth said, "I'm looking for a reason to kill you, so there ain't gonna be any negotiating. If you want to walk out of here alive, you're gonna tell us everything you know."

Clutching his leg in pain, Freidman nodded his head and began to talk.