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“Sure, but he’d also ask the head of the Senate Intelligence Committee. Which happens to be Senator Robinson. And Robinson’s recommendation would carry a lot of weight. Maybe evenallthe weight.”
“What’s your point? If I’m gone, Robinson isn’t going to tossyourname into the hat, if that’s what you’re hoping, John.”
Benson laughed like a coyote after a kill. “That hurts, Martin. But seriously, you and Robinson seem to be best buds now. Whowouldhe recommend if you were out of the picture?”
Kaiser stroked his chin, tapped his lower lip, then rocked gently in his swivel chair, his eyes shining. “Rhett Rodgers.”
“Rhett? The NOC deep cover guy?” Benson blinked once, swallowed twice, almost smacked the side of his head to make sure he was hearing right. “I’ve been out of the CIA for seven years, so maybe I missed something. But there is absolutely no way Rhett Rodgers is even inconsiderationfor the job, let alone the fucking front-runner!”
Kaiser’s eyebrows went up briefly, his head tilted to the side, eyes narrowing into a suspicious frown. “Why would you say that? Rhett spent twenty-three years working Europe from the shadows as a Non-Official Cover operator, back when the NOC program was in full-swing. Bill Morris handled him for years, vouches for Rhett completely, swears the guy was stellar as an undercover man and provocateur. Rhett worked behind the scenes to topple political parties and even governments all over Eastern Europe and North Africa. Sure, he never worked at Langley before Bill brought him in seven years ago, didn’t have the connections to play the office-politics game all that time undercover. But he’s made up for it since then. He’s sharp, smooth, polished. Robinson likes him.”
Benson tried to swallow but his throat was dry. “So Rhett Rodgers is back in the United States?”
Kaiser’s eyes narrowed to slits. “What aren’t you telling me, John? What’s your connection to Rhett Rodgers? I don’t remember his name popping up in any significant way on our rise together. You never worked directly with him, far as I know. He was an NOC ghost. Deep undercover in Europe most of the time.”
Benson said nothing. His head was buzzing hard now.
Of course the name hadn’t popped up all those years ago.
Because Benson had always made damn sure he never brought up the name around Kaiser.
Of course, Rhett’s name had sure as hell come to mind the moment Kaiser called about the Indy O’Donnell thing. How could it not?
Still, Benson couldn’t actually believe the name was coming upagain.
Coming up as the man with the primary motive to get Kaiser forced out of the Director’s chair.
Was it one of those coincidences that actually was just random chance, meaningless and irrelevant?
Or was it a sign that seeds Benson had planted decades ago were coming to fruition in a way that might destroy them all.
Kaiser asked the question again, but Benson shrugged it off and stood to leave. He couldn’t open the Pandora’s box of Rhett Rodgers right now.
After all, Rhett wasn’t the only secret locked in that dark vault to which Indy O’Donnell was the key.
No, Rhett wasn't the only skeleton in that closet.
There was a Scarlet too.
Rhett. Scarlet.
And India.
Shit, Benson thought as panic streaked through his body. Thirty years ago he’d still been a young man, cocky as hell but ignorant of how choices tended to chase you down, pounce on you just when you thought you were safe.
Benson swallowed thickly, forced away the rising panic, telling himself there was no way, absolutely not, this couldn’t go there, wouldn’t go there.
But with Rhett Rodgers in the picture, it had already gone part of the way there, and now Benson had to deal with it.
But how?
There were still so many unknowns. So many damn questions.
Did Rhett Rodgers have the complete picture?
Did Rhett Rogers understand what he was doing?
And most of all, did Rhett Rodgers know to whom he was doing it?