Vince Flynn - Extreme Measures

“It looks bad, Mr…?” The general left the question unfinished.

Rapp wavered and then thought, What the hell, I’m in deep enough already. “Rapp… Mitch Rapp.”

“You work for the CIA?” Garrison asked.

“That’s right.”

“You’re a spy,” Leland said.

“Counterterrorism specialist.”

“What exactly does that entail?” the general asked.

“It involves dealing with people like that.” Rapp pointed at the screen.

“Dealing,” the general repeated the word, “that’s pretty vague.”

“We walk in different circles, General. I don’t expect someone who puts on a uniform like yours to ever fully condone what I do. You guys have to have your rules… your discipline. You need that to remain an effective fighting force. Me… I’m the guy who sneaks out under the wire late at night and crawls up next to these guys and cuts their throats.”

“Is that what you tell yourself so you can sleep at night?” Leland folded his arms across his chest, a look of contempt on his face.

Rapp cocked his head and studied the captain. He couldn’t care less what this wet-behind-the-ears officer thought of him, but with the intent of buying more time for Nash and the others, he supposed he should engage him. “I sleep like a baby, Captain. How about you?”

“It’s because of people like you that we’re losing this war.”

With a raised eyebrow Rapp said, “I wasn’t aware that we’re losing it.”

“This is about hearts and minds, and you know it. Not torturing prisoners so we can get false confessions out of them.”

“False confessions… that’s what you think this is about? That man sitting in that room right there; do you even know who he is?”

“It doesn’t matter who he is or what he’s done. As an officer of the United States Air Force, I am sworn to uphold the Geneva Conventions.”

“You’re also sworn to protect and defend the United States of America. So which comes first, the Geneva Conventions or your fellow citizens?”

“They coexist equally.”

“I’m sure they do in your little perfect world, Captain, but out there in the real world, on the other side of the wire, things aren’t so academic.”

“That’s where you’re wrong, Mr. Rapp.”

“Really… I love being told how things are by some prick in a clean uniform who thinks he has all the answers. Tell me how it is, Captain. Tell me how many terrorists you’ve killed. Tell me how many times you’ve been shot.”

Leland shifted his weight from one foot to the other, his chin stuck stubbornly out. “General, I think we’re wasting our time. May I please put him under arrest and have him thrown in lockup?” Leland’s hand slid down to the top of his thigh holster.

“Captain,” Rapp said in a casual voice, “I’ll break your wrist before you ever get that thing out of the holster.”

“Relax, Captain,” Garrison said. “I want to hear him out first. So,” he said, looking at Rapp, “this classified information you were talking about?”

It really was classified information, and Rapp now had to decide how far to go with these two. Telling the captain to leave would have technically been the right thing to do, but Rapp didn’t want to free him up to check on the others. He would have to give them a heavily sanitized version of what was going on.

“About a month ago an al-Qaeda cell was intercepted on its way to the United States. A second cell was intercepted a few weeks later. We were very alarmed to find during interrogations that these cells were highly trained in commando tactics. They had researched their targets thoroughly. They’d preshipped their weapons, and I’m not just talking guns… I’m talking high-end explosives, fuses, remote detonators… the works. They could’ve done some serious damage. At any rate, during the interrogations…”

“You mean torture,” Leland said.

Rapp looked at the senior of the two officers and said, “General, with all due respect, if he says another word I’m going to knock him out. And trust me when I say, I’ll never be punished for belting some smart-ass, low-level officer who was interfering with me trying to stop a terrorist attack on the United States. And make no mistake about it… either of you. This operation… my little midnight visit to your base… is about acting on solid intel that a third cell is still out there.” Rapp paused to let the revelation sink in. “That’s right, there’s another group. We estimate eight to ten men, all highly trained.”

“What do you want with these two,” General Garrison asked, “when you already have the other men in your custody?”

“The men we have are only foot soldiers. None of them were involved in the recruiting or planning of the attacks.”

Garrison nodded and then pointed at the twin monitors. “And these two?”

“Both of them are high up. In fact right before you came walking in, al-Haq was talking about making a deal.”

Garrison looked at the ground for a moment and then asked, “So what do you expect me to do?”

“Go back to bed. Act like this never happened. I’ll be gone in the morning, and hopefully I’ll have enough information to run down this third cell and intercept them before they deploy.” Even as Rapp said it he knew it wouldn’t happen. Still, he had to go through the motions.

The base commander looked over at Leland and then said, “Give us a minute to discuss.”

“Sure. It’s your command, General.” Rapp stayed firmly planted between them and the hallway that led to the exit.

General Garrison led Captain Leland to the far corner and asked in a hushed voice, “Your thoughts?”

“I don’t like it. I don’t like him, and I don’t trust him. I think he’s a liar.”

“I didn’t ask if I should date him, Captain. A little more nuanced opinion is what I’m looking for.”

“Sorry, sir.” Leland paused, set aside his personal feelings of dislike, and said, “In these situations, what gets command in trouble is never the crime. You have done nothing wrong, sir. What gets command in trouble is the cover-up. Usually the old boy network… academy grads looking out for each other.” Leland exchanged a brief look with Garrison. Like they shared an unspoken bond. The general gave him no such look in return. “It starts out innocently enough, because no one thinks they are going to get caught. They usually do, though, and when that happens it’s never pretty. Instead of one career being ruined it ends up being two, three, four… sometimes dozens.”

“Your point being… if I go back to bed and act like nothing happened, eventually someone will find out I knew he was here.”

“That he impersonated an officer, tortured a prisoner, and God only knows what else.”

“So you think we should lock him up?”

“Yes!” Leland said with conviction. “You have done nothing wrong, sir. Your only concern should be to follow regulations.”

“But what about this third cell?”

Leland didn’t like that the general wasn’t recognizing how dangerous this could be to not only his own career but Leland’s as well. “What about Senator Lonsdale? How do you think she will react when she gets wind of this? And trust me, sir; it is not if, it’s when, and when she does, she is going to want your balls on a platter. She said as much before she left. Your career will be over, sir.”

Garrison looked back across the room at the man from the CIA. He was right. It would have been better if he’d never gotten out of bed. He glanced at the two monitors, watched the two fanatics sitting in their chairs. This whole thing was a mess. “And how,” he asked Leland, “do we live with ourselves if what he says is true… if we get hit with another attack?”