Vince Flynn - Consent To Kill

Louie scoffed. "You would think so, but that is President Andrew Jackson. It infuriated my father to no end that in a park that was designed to honor those allies who stood by America's side at the fledgling country's most crucial hour, they erect in the center of that very park a statue of, not Lafayette himself, but instead an American president."

"If it bothered him so, why did he bring you here?"

"That is a good question." Louie did not answer right away. They walked hand in hand for a while. Finally, as they neared the south end of the park he said, "Maybe it was my mother who liked to come here. My sisters and I were little then. It was during my father's first posting at our embassy in Washington. TV was very big in America…even then. My mother did not like TV. My sisters and I did. There was no better way to master the American way of speaking English than watching TV."

Claudia nodded. Louie had told her this before. "So why the park?"

"Anything that got us outside and away from TV. Our Saturdays were filled with educational trips. We scoured every museum in town, every park, every statue and then on Sundays if the weather was nice we'd come here." That seemed to give Louie pause and then he added, "My father both loved and hated America. He was very fond of pointing out, though, that the American Dream would not have been possible if it hadn't been for French aid, French naval power, and men like Lafayette and Rochambeau."

"And if it wasn't for the American Revolution, we French would still be ruled by a monarch."

Louie laughed. "I said that same thing to him one day when I was in high school. He turned so red that I thought for a second he might hit me."

They reached the southern edge of the park. Pennsylvania Avenue was all that separated them from the White House. That and a heavy, black wrought-iron fence and gang of heavily armed men, only a few of whom were visible. Louie looked beyond the fence. Out in front of the West Wing, TV cameras were set up and people were milling about. Louie picked her out almost immediately. From this distance he couldn't tell it was her for certain, but he was pretty sure.

"Here." He handed Claudia his cup of coffee and grabbed the digital camera. The camera was high-end, with a lens that cost over a thousand dollars, but it was very user-friendly. Louie turned the selector switch to the automatic mode and removed the lens cap. He brought the camera up and pointed it at the White House. He took one shot and then another, just like hundreds, if not thousands of tourists do every day. He moved the camera over to the West Wing and snapped off a couple more. With his right hand he twisted the telephoto lens clockwise and zeroed in on the reporters and camera people. He found her with ease. She was talking on a cell phone and laughing. Louie snapped a photo and then looked at the viewscreen. It was her. He showed it to Claudia, who nodded.

"That's her. What do we do now?"

"We get a closer look. We watch her do the news, and then we see if she leaves to go anywhere."

Claudia looked to her right and then her left. At both ends of the street were guard booths. There was another one ahead and to the left where they were headed. "There are cameras everywhere as well as security people."

Louie glanced at the roof of the White House and spotted two Secret Service guys wearing blue coveralls. Probably snipers. "Don't worry, darling. We're not going to hang around long. We're going to act like tourists. Do a little sightseeing, maybe get some more coffee, check out a few parking garages."

"Parking garages?"

Louie took his coffee back and grabbed her hand. "Remember that credit report I had you run?"

"Yes."

"Did you learn anything from it?"

"She likes to shop."

"So do you." He couldn't see beyond her dark sunglasses, but he knew she was glaring at him.

"I don't spend anywhere near what she spends."

"That is true. But we'll see how you fare when we settle down."

"Are you done analyzing my shopping habits?"

"Yes. What else did you learn from the report?"

"She has no mortgage; she pays her credit card bills and her car lease in full every month."

"What kind of car?"

Claudia finally realized what he was getting at. "Oh…you are good."

"Thank you, darling." Louie grabbed her hand. "Let's go watch her do the news."

He didn't know how she'd found out, but she had, and she was as mad as he'd ever seen her. For the second time in a week Rapp felt like he'd been called to the principal's office. He stood on one side of his boss's desk, and she stood on the other. She wanted explanations, and he, for the moment, wasn't willing to give any. She was getting louder with each unanswered question, and he was getting more belligerent with each query. They were stuck at an impasse.

"I want to know how you found out," stated Rapp in a no-nonsense tone for at least the third time.

"How I found out is none of your concern."

"Tell me how you got your information, and I'll be happy to answer your questions." He widened his stance and held his ground.

"Listen," she pointed her finger at him. Her face was flushed with anger. "Contrary to what you think, you actually have a boss. I am that boss, and you have stepped over the line this time."

"Well, if you had gotten the IRS off of Coleman's back, like you said you were going to, I wouldn't have had to go to Ross's office and intercede."

Kennedy's fists balled up in anger. "And if you didn't have the patience of a hamster, you would have waited one more day and I would have taken care of it."

None of this made sense to Rapp. Kennedy had always been the most unflappable, professional person he'd ever dealt with, and now twice within the span of a week she was acting completely out of character. "Is everything all right?" Rapp regarded her for a moment. "Everything okay with Tommy…is your ex bugging you?"

Kennedy buried her face in both hands and shook her head. When she looked up she said, "You just don't get it, do you? You walk around in your own little Mitch Rapp world. All you care about is what you want. You have no regard whatsoever for those around you." She tapped her own forehead with her forefinger. "No clue of the chaos you leave in your wake. Chaos that I have to deal with. And you have no idea how bad it looks to have you go over my head like this."

"Oh…well, I'm sorry to have been such a burden. I hope no one around here got any paper cuts while I was out getting shot and stabbed." Rapp turned his head to the side and pointed at the thin scar that ran down the left side of his face.

"Don't," she yelled at him. "Don't play the martyr with me. I have always respected your sacrifice. That is not what this is about. It's about you being so bullheaded, and sure of yourself, that you just go and do whatever the hell you want whenever you want."

"I've managed to do just fine on my own."

"Yes, you have. But let me warn you, Mitchell, your luck is running out. You're starting to piss people off. The fervor that we need to wage this war on terror is already waning. It won't be long, another two to eight years, and the liberals on the Hill will be back in charge, and mark my words, they are going to launch a witch hunt like we haven't seen since the Church hearings. They are going to tear this place apart. That's what National Intelligence is all about. That was the deal they struck. They're going to use it to run roughshod over the Agency. To make sure cowboys like you are properly supervised and kept on a short leash."

"Well, then you'll be surprised to know that it was Senator Hartsburg who advised me to go pay Director Ross a little visit."

Kennedy regarded him warily.