Vince Flynn - Act of Treason

“What do you want me to tell them at Langley if they start asking about you?”

“You never saw me.”

“You got it.”

“And find out who the Russian is.”

“I’m working on it.”

Brooks heard the director’s voice on the intercom and her heart began to race. This was it. Her whole career would be decided in the next ten minutes. Sheila, with the overdone makeup and the infatuation with Mitch Rapp, told her she could go in. Brooks stood. Her blond hair was in a tight ponytail, and she was wearing a black pantsuit. She’d seen Kennedy on TV before wearing virtually the same outfit. Brooks had intentionally decided to wear it today. She was looking for any advantage she could get. She tugged on the front of her white blouse, adjusted the collar, and grabbed the door handle. Brooks took one last deep breath and opened the door.

The door swung in and the first thing Brooks saw were two stone-faced men sitting on a couch directly across the room. It was Juarez and McMahon. Director Kennedy stepped into view and extended her hand.

“Cindy.”

“Director Kennedy.” Brooks took her hand. “It’s a real honor to meet you. I just wish it was under better circumstances.”

Kennedy smiled warmly. “Don’t worry, we’ll get this mess straightened out. Please,” she gestured toward one of the armchairs opposite the couch, “take a seat.”

Brooks took the chair on the right and glanced nervously at her boss and the agent from the FBI. Neither man looked away. Between the two of them they had to have had sixty plus years of hard experience. McMahon was the Special Agent in Charge of the investigation into the motorcade attack. The FBI wouldn’t give that job to just any agent. They would bring in their best.

“Can I get you anything to drink?” Kennedy asked as she took a seat in the chair next to Brooks.

“No, thank you.” Brooks crossed her legs and clasped her hands over her right knee.

“Gentlemen?”

Juarez and McMahon didn’t take their eyes off Brooks. They simply shook their heads.

“Well,” Kennedy said as she withdrew her hand from the coffeepot in front of her, “it appears we have a bit of a problem.” She turned sideways so she was facing Brooks. “I’ve known these two men here for some time. I’ve seen them both in various states of anger, but you, young lady, have somehow managed to really get them riled up.” Kennedy tilted her head and smiled.

Brooks, not knowing how else to react, laughed nervously.

“Why do you think that is?”

Brooks regained her composure. “For starters I would like to apologize. Mitch Rapp ordered me not to discuss this operation with anyone until he cleared me to do so.”

“Really.” Juarez ran his thumb and forefinger down his mustache and then leaned forward. “Would you like to show me the org chart where it says that Mitch Rapp is anywhere in your chain of command?”

“Sir, I…” Brooks struggled for a response.

“There is no such chart!” Juarez snapped. “The director and I outrank Mr. Rapp. We are your bosses. He isn’t, and if you don’t get that through your thick head, you are going to find yourself in a whole shitload of trouble.”

Kennedy looked at Juarez, her eyes telling him to back off. She looked back to Brooks. “Cindy, here is the situation. The FBI has in custody a man who is alleged to have been behind the attack on President-elect Alexander’s motorcade. You delivered that man to Andrews Air Force Base yesterday afternoon. Correct?”

“Correct.”

“Do you believe this man is in fact the person we have been looking for?”

“Yes.”

“Why?”

“Why?” asked Brooks.

“What evidence do you have?”

“I know this isn’t what you want to hear, Director Kennedy, but I gave my word to Mitch that I would not talk about this with anyone until he cleared it.”

Kennedy tried not to take offense. She knew Rapp was the real issue here, not this young rookie. “I understand that Mitch asked you not to talk about what happened on Cyprus, but I’m asking you as the director of the Central Intelligence Agency,” Kennedy put her arms out and looked around the spacious office, “the person who is responsible for this organization, to tell me what happened.”

Brooks looked down and clasped her hands tightly together. She was really in a bind. She couldn’t help but think that even if Rapp did make good on his promise, she would forever be stained by this complete lack of respect. Rapp had told her on the flight home not to worry. Just hang in there for twenty-four to thirty-six hours tops and everything would be fine. She remembered him making her look him in the eye. Those beautiful, yet intimidating, almost black eyes, and he asked her if she trusted him. At the end of it all that was what it came down to. She trusted him.

Brooks looked up at Kennedy and in a very polite voice said, “Director Kennedy, may I ask you one question?”

“Sure,” Kennedy replied after a slight pause.

“Do you trust Mitch?”

At first Kennedy felt blindsided by the question. Almost tricked. But she could tell by the look on Brooks’s face that she was sincere. The debate strategy would have been to throw the question back at Brooks or ask her a different one, but Kennedy didn’t want to. This young operative had just put the discussion into a very interesting light. She smiled at Brooks and said, “Yes, I do. I trust him completely.”

Brooks nodded and brushed an errant strand of blond hair back behind her ear. “Personally, I don’t particularly care for him.”

“Really?”

“He’s not the easiest person to work with.”

“You think so?” Juarez asked sarcastically.

Kennedy ignored him. “Lone wolf.”

“Very much so.”

“I’m afraid a great deal of that is due to his training. When we recruited him, he was very much a team player. Very social. We had to teach him how to operate as an individual…a lone wolf.”

“That’s only part of it. He’s not well.”

“How so?”

“The mere mention of his wife sends him into a tirade. At one point I actually thought he was going to hit me.”

Kennedy searched the young operative’s eyes for a hint of dishonesty or a possible self-aggrandizing agenda, but she didn’t see a sign of either. She was simply giving a dispassionate summary. “He’s been through a lot.”

“Yes, I know, but that doesn’t excuse the fact that he hasn’t been referred for counseling.” Brooks watched Kennedy look away from her and then check her watch. She had hit a nerve. “It is not a criticism of management,” Brooks added quickly. “He’s not ready for help. You’d have to institutionalize him.”

“Commit him to a psychiatric institution?” Kennedy asked with a look of real shock on her face.

“Yes. For his own good.”

“Your graduate degree is in psychology?” Kennedy asked.

“Yes.”

Kennedy glanced over at Juarez who was shaking his head. Turning to Brooks she said, “That was tried once before. Years ago.”

“Before his wife?”

“Years before.”

“How did it go?” Brooks asked.

Kennedy looked to Juarez who said, “He killed the man who had him committed.”

“Killed?” Brooks said with surprise.

“Killed,” Juarez repeated himself. “Snapped his neck with his bare hands.”

Brooks looked at Special Agent McMahon with a mix of shock and horror on her face.

“Don’t look at me.” McMahon put his hands up. “I turned my hearing aid off five minutes ago.”

“Relax,” Juarez said. “It turned out the treasonous bastard had it coming, but that’s a whole other story. One that you’re not cleared for.”