The Last Man

Chapter 28
KENNEDY had maneuvered Gould to the exact spot where she wanted him. The intelligence business was many things, but stripped down to its basic elements, it was about people. How they interacted with other people in normal day-to-day activities and how they might change their behavior in a stressful situation. It was easy to lose sight of this and get hung up on all the satellite imagery, signal intercepts, and endless reports from analysts, but it all came back to human interaction. Kennedy was fairly certain Gould was a misogynist. It was observable in the way he treated his wife. For a misogynist, it was almost impossible to underestimate a woman.

"So," she said, "you think you are the only one who keeps secrets?"

"Everyone has secrets."

"Claudia . . . your wife, does she have secrets?"

Kennedy saw a crack in his detached demeanor. The mention of his wife in such a personal way had its desired effect. "In case you've forgotten, she was the one who contacted me after you screwed up and killed Mitch's wife. You see, she knew that she couldn't bring a baby into this world with that kind of dark cloud hanging over her head. Unlike you, she gets it. She understands that you can't take innocent life and expect to create life."

"Save your psychobabble for someone who cares. I can only imagine how many people you've killed over the years."

Some people in Kennedy's position would try to argue the fine point with Gould and claim that they had killed no one, but Kennedy had never deluded herself that she was uninvolved because someone else pulled the trigger. She understood fully the responsibilities of her job. Kennedy did not want to get sidetracked from the point at hand, but she needed to clear something up first. "You'll have to excuse me, but I'm not naive enough to buy your postmodern relativism. I have killed people, more people than you have, but there are several rather distinct differences between us. I have received no fees, bounties, or contract payments for the people I have ordered killed, and I most certainly don't find some perverse thrill in it, as you do. I kill bad people in an effort to keep innocent people safe. You, on the other hand . . . it doesn't matter to you if you kill good people or bad people just so long as someone is willing to pay your fee."

"Please," Gould scoffed.

"I'm not sure why you think this game is helpful, but we both know the truth. You are not a good man. You are a selfish, narcissistic ass who, despite being given a second chance in life, could not walk away from an extremely dangerous profession. A profession that will likely get you, your wife, and your daughter killed."

"Please stop lecturing me, and go get Mr. Rapp."

Kennedy was ready to drop the bomb. "Claudia and I have been in contact for the last four years. She usually calls when you've left her and Anna to go on one of your trips where you claim you need to see your bankers." Kennedy caught the change in his eyes and she knew she had him. "I've even had you followed a few times."

Gould shook his head. "I don't know what you're talking about."

"You're not very good at this."

"Neither are you."

"My people were following you when you killed your old business partner Gaspar Navarro, in that park in Spain." This information should have been enough to get him to fold, but it was obvious he had a rather severe obstinate streak. "You thought he was taking money from you, yes?"

Gould shook his head. "None of this matters. Rapp is the only person I will talk to."

"That's not going to happen, Mr. Gould."

"Why?"

"I already told you . . . I'm fairly certain if I put the two of you in a room together he is going to kill you, and to be honest, I'd like to keep you alive for a little while."

"Why?"

"Why do you think?"

He shrugged as if he didn't have the foggiest idea.

"You possess information that I require. Information that you will give me sometime in the next minute or two is my guess."

Gould laughed in her face. "Oh, are we going to start the CIA's vaunted enhanced interrogation process now? Please, if you think those techniques will work on me you are a fool."

"This doesn't happen very often, but I'm tempted to test you just to see your arrogance stripped away."

"Torture will not work, and you have yet to convince me why I would want to tell you a thing."

Kennedy smiled. "Because I hold the key to your future, and I'm actually fond of your wife. I think she's a good person who fell in love with the wrong man. I wouldn't want to hold that against her . . . the fact that you're a serial liar and a murderer, amongst other things."

"You don't know a thing about me."

"You couldn't be more wrong. Mr. Gould. In fact, I think I care more about your wife than you do. You have gotten into bed with some bad people. I think it's safe to say they wanted you dead yesterday after you completed their work for them. People like that won't stop until they get what they want. They are running now, trying to tie up all their loose ends to make sure there is nothing left to connect them to you. So while you sit here and refuse to talk, your wife and child are vulnerable. The men who hired you don't know you're here." Kennedy stood. "They will start looking for you, and they will eventually find your wife and child."

"You don't really expect me to fall for this, do you?"

"Oh, I do, Mr. Gould, because if I could find them I'm guessing that your employer can as well."

"You're bluffing."

Kennedy spoke each word in a staccato rhythm. "Nelson, New Zealand . . . 4102 Vickerman Street." She saw the panic in the way his right cheek twitched. At least he cared about them. "Would you like me to describe the house to you?"

The façade melted away at the mention of the city, let alone his address. He shook his head.

"I had Claudia and Anna placed into protective custody last night." Kennedy turned for the door. "And just so we're clear on this, I did it because I don't think they should die because of your greed and stupidity."

Gould felt the walls closing in around him. He watched Kennedy reach for the buzzer next to the door and he blurted out, "How did you find us?"

Kennedy made a half turn and looked down at Gould. "This is your last chance, Mr. Gould. You either tell me everything I want to know, or I will tell Claudia how you have continued with your little hobby despite promising her you were done. I will tell her about the type of people you've been working with and how you have put her and Anna in harm's way, all for your own selfish gratification. And then you can spend the rest of your life in a cell, agonizing over your stupidity and wondering what your daughter looks like with each passing birthday. So what's it going to be, Mr. Gould, are you ready to talk or do want to continue with these stupid games?"

His head hung in defeat, Gould said, "I'm ready to talk."

"What is my name, and what do I do for a living?"

"You're Dr. Irene Kennedy. Director of the Central Intelligence Agency."

Kennedy nodded and pressed the buzzer. The door opened a second later to reveal Nash. She told him, "I need a pen and a pad of paper. Mr. Gould is about to give us a good deal of information."

Nash looked more than a little surprised that his boss had been able to accomplish what he couldn't, and in only a few minutes. He nodded and turned to get what she'd asked for.

"And you can turn everything back on." Kennedy let the door close and surveyed the strange man sitting across from her. "You might not understand this, but I care about what happens to you."

Gould looked up at her with disbelieving eyes.

"I know that's hard for someone like you to believe, but it's true. Mitch spared your life for reasons that I don't entirely understand, which leaves me to wonder if there isn't a bigger reason that none of us understood, and still don't understand." Kennedy watched for a sign that the man was capable of feeling either guilt or gratitude. She saw neither, but she wasn't displeased, for his expression was one of fear, and Kennedy knew from personal experience that fear could be a great motivator. "You have a role to play here, Mr. Gould. I don't know what it is yet, but I think we're about to find out."