Extreme Measures (16 page)

CAPITOL HILL

N
ASH rested both arms on the table and looked up at the nine men and women sitting in judgment. The only good thing about the briefing so far was that six of the members hadn’t even bothered to attend – ten, if you counted the four ex officio members – the old-timers who were granted a special status so they could keep a hand in the affairs of one of the more important committees. Nash bet if they were over in Room 216 and the meeting was open to the press, they’d all be there mugging for the cameras, showing their constituents how hard they were working. Feeding their insatiable egos.

But they weren’t, they were in the Chamber, one of the most, if not the most, secure rooms on Capitol Hill. There was no ornate seal or gold script announcing to anyone who walked down the hall that this was where the Intelligence Committee met. Just two letters in caps and three numbers – SH 219. The SH stood for Senate Hart, and the 219 for second floor, room 19. The entire space was encased in steel, making it impossible for electromagnetic waves to enter or leave the room. The only people allowed access were committee staffers, the most vetted on the Hill, committee members and only their most senior and vetted staffers and those who were invited to testify or brief. The room itself was more of a suite with smaller rooms for individual briefings and a larger room for the entire committee to sit and hold a hearing in supposed secrecy.

Cell phones, cameras, and digital recorders were collected at the door. What was said in SH 219 was supposed to stay in SH 219, but more and more that wasn’t the case. Nash didn’t blame it on the Intelligence Committee staffers, he blamed it on the committee members themselves. While most adhered to the rules, Nash and his coworkers felt that at least half of the members leaked secure intelligence on a regular basis. Some of it was the result of idle gossip. They were politicians who were asked to speak to group after group all day long, seven days a week. When you talked that much it was hard to remember what was okay to say and what wasn’t. The ones who were really dangerous, though, were the senators who held positions of power within their own party. They drank the Kool-Aid and bought into the idea that the other side was trying to destroy them and therefore it was okay to leak classified information if it made their opponents look bad.

In another time these power brokers would have been hanged or worse, but in this great democracy, this coequal branch of government closed ranks and protected itself. They saw in their opponents the same weaknesses they saw in themselves, so when a scandal broke from within their exclusive little club, they pulled their punches and let their colleague off the hook. But God forbid if anyone else broke the rules.

Nash was grateful that O’Brien had decided to show up. No one was willing to admit it, but Nash knew his colleagues were worried he was coming unhinged and didn’t trust him to keep his temper in check in front of the committee. They were right because they were only twenty minutes into the session and he was thoroughly disgusted. Of the nine senators in attendance only two of them could be considered pro-CIA. Six were firmly in the anti-CIA camp and only one of the six independents on the committee had shown up. That part was surprising. They didn’t want to sit through all the blustering and threats. The moderates would come in later and read the transcripts or get briefed by one of the committee staffers.

Unless one of the senators had some damaging information, nothing eventful was going to happen today. This was the game they played. The senators asked for the truth. Some of them wanted it and others didn’t, but they still asked. O’Brien and Nash would look up at them and lie to the same question asked nine different ways. This was the gray area that had shrunk to almost nothing before 9/11 and had since become huge. The military had tried Don’t Ask, Don’t Tell, and now the Intelligence Committees had an Ask and Please Don’t Tell the Truth policy. At least until the press got ahold of something and then all hell broke loose. Then they were right back to the famous “I’m shocked, shocked to find that gambling is going on in here” scene in
Casablanca.

“Mr. Nash, there are certain members of this committee who feel that you have been less than forthright with us in the past.”

Nash looked back at the senator from Vermont. The man was possibly the worst leaker on the entire committee. “Is that a question or a statement, sir?”

“Both.” The man flashed Nash a smile that looked like he wanted to eat him for dinner.

Nash would love nothing more than to tell them he had lied to them, and that they all knew he’d lied to them, and that he knew that they wanted him to lie, because he was keeping them safe, but that wasn’t how the game was played. He was in the business of deception and busting up terrorist networks and trying to save American lives. With that in mind, why in the world would he tell the truth to a committee of politicians who overwhelmingly had proven that they couldn’t keep a secret to save their lives? But he didn’t say that. Instead, he looked back respectfully at the senator and said, “Sir, if you have a more specific question, I would be more than happy to answer it.”

“What my esteemed colleague is too nice to say is that he thinks you are a liar.”

A minor uproar ensued as several of the committee members objected to the tone of the senator from Missouri. Nash turned and looked at Barbara Lonsdale. She was an attractive woman with deep brown eyes and a tiny little nose. She was always dressed in the latest designer clothes and took great pride in her appearance. At the moment, those beautiful eyes were locked on Nash and her perfectly lined lips were turned ever so slightly upward at the corners. She was obviously pleased that she had upset the decorum of the meeting.

When it had calmed down enough, Nash said, “Madam Senator, do
you
feel that I’m a liar?” Nash felt O’Brien nudge him under the table.

“I am a deliberate person, Mr. Nash, so I will choose my words carefully. I’m one of the members who feel that you have been less than forthright with this committee.”

“In other words, you think I’ve lied to you?”

“If that is the word you would like to use, I am fine with it.”

“Madam Senator, I can promise you that this story in the
Washington Post
is completely inaccurate. Why would the CIA launch an operation that is so clearly outside our mandate?”

“It is more than outside your mandate. It is illegal, and I promise both of you if I find out that either of you have lied to me, which I suspect you have, I will make sure you spend as much of your remaining days behind bars as possible.”

“Why are we indicting these men over one article written by a newspaper that has shown a consistent animosity toward the CIA? Can anyone answer that question?”

It was Senator Gayle Kendrick from Virginia. She and Lonsdale did not get along, even though they were in the same party. Kendrick was smart enough to understand that one of the largest employers in her state was the CIA and its sister agencies in the National Security sphere. Kendrick also knew that when another attack occurred it would likely affect the people of her state more than those of Missouri.

“I have found in the past,” Lonsdale said, “that newspapers like the
Post
are usually the first to break stories like this.”

“I’m sorry, I know I haven’t served in the Senate as long as you, but I’m a little more suspicious of what I read in the newspapers.”

“I have found,” shot back Lonsdale in a very authoritative tone, “that the
Post
does not print articles unless sources have been checked.”

“And sources have a history of lying. If we’re to believe everything that is written in the
Post
, then I’d have to believe you’re currently dating a dozen or more of the most powerful men in Washington.”

It was Nash’s turn to kick O’Brien under the table. He leaned over and whispered, “This is going to be good.”

Kendrick was every bit as good-looking as Lonsdale and ten years younger, and she was also faithfully married, or at least appeared to be. It was obvious by the constipated look on Lonsdale’s face that Kendrick’s jab had hit home. Before anything further happened, though, Ralph Wassen, Lonsdale’s chief of staff, entered the room and slid around to whisper in his boss’s ear. After a brief exchange, Lonsdale stood and followed Wassen out of the room. Before Nash could think anything of it, the junior senator from Kentucky fired a question at him.

L
ONSDALE and Wassen ducked back into her office in Dirksen using her private door so they could avoid the lobby and anyone who might be waiting for her. As they passed the senator’s administrative assistant, Wassen told him to hold all calls. Once inside her inner sanctum, Lonsdale kicked off her shoes and sat behind her desk. Wassen took off his jacket and pulled his tie loose. He folded his jacket once and laid it across the armrest of the long sofa. Returning to his boss’s desk, he held up his hands palms out, but before he could say anything further Lonsdale silenced him with a look. She opened a drawer and retrieved cigarettes, a lighter, and a fresh tablet of paper. She lit the cigarette, dropped the lighter, and grabbed a pen. In the middle of the page she wrote down Mitch Rapp’s name in caps.

“Slower this time,” she said. “This major… what’s his name?”

“Captain… Captain Leland. You met him when you were in Afghanistan last week.”

“Any reason I’d remember him?”

“No. He’s not handsome enough.”

“But you remember him?”

“Yes.”

“Why?” Lonsdale asked with suspicion.

“It’s not what you think.”

“It better not be. Because if I get behind this guy and the CIA finds out he’s gay and my gay chief of staff is the man he went to, we could have some problems.”

“Babs, I have no idea if he’s gay or straight. I remembered him because he voiced some concerns to me about the CIA and their interrogation methods.”

“He better not be gay.”

“I don’t see how it matters.”

“It probably doesn’t, but I want you to find out. You know I hate surprises.” Lonsdale took a drag and then exhaled. “And these bastards won’t go down without a fight.”

“No… they most certainly won’t.”

“Please don’t tell me you think I should pass on this?”

“No, I just think you should tread carefully.”

“Ralph, according to what you just told me, Rapp assaulted this officer.”

“Black eye and a severely sprained wrist. Possible ligament damage. The doctor told him it would have been better if he’d broken it.”

“Did the doctor take photos?”

“I don’t know. I’m sure he took an X-ray.”

“I mean photos of his eye… swelling on his wrist… that type of stuff.”

“I don’t know.”

“He told you e-mail was the best way to get ahold of him?”

“Yes.”

“Send him an e-mail and tell him to take some photos and send them back.”

Wassen took a step back and braced himself for his boss’s rage. “I’m not sure he’ll be willing to do that.”

“Why?” Lonsdale asked tersely.

“He doesn’t want this to look like he came to us. He wants us to investigate it from our end as if we’d picked up on a rumor.”

Lonsdale frowned. “That’s silly.”

“Not really. Not if he wants to have a career in the air force.”

“I think I can call in enough favors with the chairman of the Armed Services Committee to get him any job he wants.”

“Posting, Babs. That’s what they call it in the military.”

Lonsdale ignored him. “We need to get him to make an official statement of some sort. Who do we have over there who we could trust?”

“Babs,” Wassen half shouted, “you’re not listening to me, and if you knew anything about the military you’d understand why he doesn’t want to be the one who comes forward… who files an official complaint.”

“Ralph, I know this is going to come as a real surprise to you, but I don’t give a shit. I have been handed Mitch Rapp’s balls on a platter, and I’m not going to let go. You tell this guy he either fills out an official complaint or I’ll consider him part of a cover-up.”

Wassen rolled his tired eyes. As chief of staff he wore many hats and one of them was to protect his boss from herself. She was a great campaigner, because like Stonewall Jackson she did not possess the ability to retreat. It was always attack and never give the enemy quarter. This, and a few other reasons, was why Wassen often fed her information one bite at a time. That way he at least stood a chance of nudging her in the most thoughtful direction. “There’s something else I haven’t told you.”

“You did sleep with him, didn’t you?” Lonsdale’s brown eyes were practically bugging out of her head.

“Enough about my sex life, all right? I did not sleep with him and I will never sleep with him, and if you bring it up again, I’m going to throw your stapler at you.”

“Fine,” she said, as if Wassen were the one who was being unreasonable.

“Have you bothered to stop and ask yourself why Rapp would do something like this?”

“You mean hit another man? I don’t need to. He’s a homicidal maniac.”

“I’ve warned you, I don’t know how many times.” A look of real intensity gripped Wassen. “If you are going to take Rapp and Kennedy on, you need to stop underestimating them.”

“Would you like to argue the last point?”

“No… Rapp definitely has some homicidal tendencies, but I don’t think he’s a maniac.”

“Well… let’s just agree to disagree for the moment. What’s this other thing you have?”

“You haven’t bothered to ask why Leland was trying to arrest Rapp.”

“Fine… why was Leland trying to arrest Rapp?”

Wassen clapped his hands together and got ready to deliver the bombshell. “Remember the two high-value targets we saw while we were over there… Abu Haggani and Mohammad al-Haq?”

“Yes.” Lonsdale stabbed out what was left of her cigarette. “And I remember leaving specific orders that they were to be treated in exact accordance with the Geneva Conventions.”

“Yes, you did, but apparently Mr. Rapp didn’t get that memo, because sometime in the early hours of this past Saturday morning, Rapp and several other unidentified individuals arrived at the base disguised as officers from the Air Force Office of Special Investigations.”

“You’re sure about this?”

“According to Captain Leland. Rapp then went to the special interrogation facility that housed al-Haq and Haggani.” Wassen stopped for dramatic effect.

“And?” snapped an impatient Lonsdale.

“He beat at least one of the prisoners and allegedly threatened the other.”

“Beat?” asked an excited Lonsdale. “Define beat. Are we talking smacked, kicked, punched… be more specific.”

“Punched and choked. Apparently there was a lot of blood.”

“Please tell me this captain has it on tape.” Lonsdale reached for a cigarette and allowed herself a moment of anticipated glory over releasing a tape of Rapp beating a helpless prisoner.

“They can’t find the tape. Either Rapp disabled the security cameras or someone has destroyed the tapes.”

Lonsdale winced at the setback and took in a deep breath before speaking. “Who else saw what happened besides Leland?”

“The base commander and several MPs.”

Lonsdale quickly wrote down a few notes. “And the base commander hasn’t filed a report?”

“No, in fact, according to Leland, the base commander and Stephen Roemer, the special assistant to the secretary of defense told him to sit on his official report and wait until he gets the facts straight. They’ve promised him any posting he’d like.”

“Oh… this just keeps getting better.” Lonsdale set her pen down. “We’ve got the crime and the cover-up. Now the only question is how I keep this away from the Armed Services Committee and Intel.”

“That’s going to be tough.”

Lonsdale looked back at him. “I’ll make it a straight civil liberties issue.”

“For Leland?”

“Yes.”

“But he doesn’t want to cooperate.”

“I don’t give a shit if he wants to cooperate. I’ll compel his ass to cooperate.”

“But you need him to get the ball rolling.”

“What I need is a couple of hard-nosed special agents to sit him down and get him to make a statement. Where’s Rapp?”

“He’s on his way back from Afghanistan. I don’t know when he’s supposed to land.”

“One of the CIA planes?”

“I think so. Leland said Ridley went over to pick him up and they left the base this afternoon.”

“Ridley is involved in this too?” asked an excited Lonsdale. “Oh, this is just fantastic.” Lonsdale wrote down a few more names and then made a big circle around Rapp’s. “What about Nash? Wasn’t he just over there?”

“I’m not sure. Leland didn’t mention him.”

Lonsdale tapped her pen and took a long drag. After a good ten seconds she said, “Here’s what we’re going to do. I want you to find out when Rapp’s plane is due to land. Then I want you to get Wade over here. We’ll put him out on point for this. As the DOJ’s chief civil liberties officer he’ll be able to find out who the FBI has at that base and he can order them to track down Leland and take a statement from him. We’ll take that statement and give it to Judge…” Lonsdale began snapping her fingers. “Who would be a good judge?”

“Broeder. Extremely liberal. He’ll love the opportunity to get involved in something like this.”

“Good. We’ll use him, but we have to keep this really quiet.”

“You run the Judiciary Committee. Trust me, Broeder will play ball with us.”

“And we’ll keep this tight. You, me, Kline, Broeder, and only one staffer. Get Kline over here immediately.”

“Right away.” Wassen had already stepped over to another phone and was asking one of the people in the outer office to get him Wade Kline.

Lonsdale spun her chair around and looked out the window. She was grinning ear to ear. She could see it all unfolding in her mind’s eye. She’d move quietly tonight and then in the morning she would hold a press conference with Kline and drop the bomb on an unsuspecting Washington. Her fellow chairmen on Intel and Armed Services would be furious, but what could they do but get behind her and second everything she would say? This had the potential to be one of the biggest scandals this town had ever seen. It was one for the history books. She’d been warning the president and her colleagues about the CIA for years, and no one had listened. Now they would have to.