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“What the hell did you bring onto my base?”
“Nothing you need to worry about,” Rapp said finally. “You just need to make sure my man gets the best care available and call me in a fast transport to the U.S.”
With an expression of disgust, the officer examined Rapp’s filthy clothing, long hair, and thick beard. “CIA,” he spat. “Fuck you. You don’t walk onto my base and start giving orders.”
“Look, Colonel. I’m bone tired and we both know I’m going to get what I want. Why not just skip straight to that part?”
“You have confidence, I’ll give you that. Exactly why is it you think you’re going to get what you want?”
“Because I have a nuke.”
The man’s eyes shot toward the warhead again. “But where did you get it and where are you going with it? Because you’re not getting me involved in some bullshit CIA operation without authorization.”
It worried Rapp that he was actually thinking about killing the man. And not in some vague, theoretical way. He had his eye on a large wrench stowed against the fuselage and was picturing beating the officer’s skull in with it.
“Okay, Colonel,” he said, reluctantly abandoning the idea. “Then let’s get you authorization.”
He smirked. “What? From Irene Kennedy? I do
n’t work for her.”
The anger flashed across Rapp’s face and Maslick inched closer, putting himself in position for an intercept. The Delta man tensed when Rapp reached behind him, but then relaxed when nothing more deadly than a phone appeared.
“Would the president be good enough?”
“My ass,” the man said. “You Agency pricks are all the same. You swagger around and bullshit about how the White House hangs on your every word. I’ve been around way too long to fall for that.”
Rapp switched his phone to speaker and dialed a number that went to a private switchboard at 1600 Pennsylvania Avenue.
“White House. How can I help you?”
“Could you put me through to the Oval Office, please?”
“Connecting you now.”
The still-unnamed air force colonel started to look a little uncertain.
“Oval Office.”
“Gloria, it’s Mitch. Is he available?”
“He’s meeting with the vice president right now. Do you want me to poke my head in?”
Rapp looked inquisitively at the man in front of him, who shook his head violently.
“No, it’s not that important.”
“Should he call you when he’s out?”
Again, Rapp looked up and again he got a vigorous shake of the head.
“No, I’ll just catch up with him when I get back. Thanks.”
By the time he disconnected the call, the anonymous colonel was already headed for the exit.
“Fast transport,” Rapp called after him.
“I’ll find the closest one and get it in the air,” he responded without looking back. A moment later he had disappeared down the tarmac.