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"What's that supposed to mean?" Rapp fumed.
"You don't have to play by the rules," McMahon said firmly, "but the FBI does. All I'm asking is that you understand the legal and political implications of what happened yesterday. Hear me out and then do whatever you feel is right."
Rapp had neither the patience nor the desire to listen to one more word, but for the sake of finding out who was behind this monumentally stupid decision he was at least willing to keep his temper in check for a few more minutes.
* * *
Fifty-Five
The midnight blue BMW series five darted through the morning traffic at a near reckless pace. Although angry, the man behind the wheel was very much in control of the ve
hicle. Instead of crossing the Potomac on the Theodore Roosevelt Memorial Bridge, he shot across two lanes of traffic and followed the exit sign for the U.S. Marine Corps Memorial. The limousine was easy enough to find. Rapp drove around to the north side of the monument and brought his car to an abrupt stop directly behind the limousine.
As always, he quickly checked the surrounding area while throwing the car in park and unbuckling his seat belt. Then he grabbed his keys and got out. While walking to the limo he continued to survey the landscape. The back door was open and he climbed in.
Dr. Irene Kennedy had the TV on and was reading a file. She didn't even bother to look up at the CIA's top counterterrorism operative. Kennedy hadn't been there when they'd convinced the president of this course of action, but as soon as she found out, the first thing that came to mind was that Rapp would be furious.
"Good morning."
"And what's so damned good about it?" snapped Rapp.
Kennedy closed the file and slowly took off her glasses. "I'm glad to see you made it back in one piece."
Next to Rapp's wife and his brother, Steven, Kennedy was perhaps the most important person in his life. In many ways, her influence was greater than the other two combined. Kennedy knew things about him that the other two would, and could, never know.
Despite his great affection for Kennedy, there were times when her levelheaded demeanor drove him insane. "Irene, my head's about to pop off so let's dispense with the pleasantries. What the hell happened between the time I left Afghanistan and got back here?"
This was exactly why Kennedy had asked him to meet her here. She did not want him exploding at the White House. "The simple version, Mitchell, is that two U.S. citizens were arrested yesterday in conjunction with a suspected terrorist attack. As is their right, they retained an attorney and "
Rapp closed his eyes and began shaking his head. "Don't give me the P.C. version. I want to know how in the hell you let this happen."
"To be blunt I was outmaneuvered."
"How?"
"I had my hands full."
"He didn't even consult you?" asked a disbelieving Rapp.
"Not really. By the time I found out it was too late."
"Was this Jones's idea?" Rapp detested the president's chief of staff.
"She was involved in the decision, but I think it originated at Justice."
"Stokes?"
"Yes, and one of his deputies."
Rapp shook his head. "I don't get it. I thought we had solved all this nonsense with the Patriot Act."
"So did I, but I should have known better."
"How so?"
"There was no way the left was ever going to let that thing stand. I should've known that once the shock of 9/11 wore off they'd begin to dismantle it."
"Irene you know me. I could give a rat's ass about politics and ninety-nine percent of the crap that goes on in this town, but come on these guys were involved in a plot to set off a nuclear bomb in Washington, D.C., and now I'm being told by the FBI that I can't talk to them, because they've got a lawyer."