Page 76
Story: The Last Man (Mitch Rapp 13)
“Because of his extremely close relationship with Director Kennedy.”
Miller’s face twisted into a look of disapproval while he leaned forward and tapped the screen of an iPad several times.
Wilson heard his voice emanate from the overhead speakers. Oh, I’m reading you loud and clear. Are you still recording our conversation? Because I want to make sure you get this part. I didn’t tell you any of this because I can’t trust you. Because the entire Counterintelligence Division knows that you’re too close to Director Kennedy, and based on what I’ve experienced the last few days I’m inclined to believe those rumors. So you better get ready for your own board of inquiry.
Wilson remembered the words all too well. At the time he had spewed them at Hargrave it felt good. Hearing them now in this setting, they seemed foolish.
“This is a fairly serious accusation.” Miller picked up a pen and held it just above the surface of a yellow legal pad. “Which employees of the Counterintelligence Division believe that Sam is too close to DCI Kennedy?”
“Sir, I’m here to answer for myself. I’m not comfortable involving other people in this.”
“But you’re comfortable enough to throw around wild accusations?” Miller stared at Wilson, waiting for a reply.
“It’s not that, sir, it’s just that I’m willing to answer for my own opinions, but I’m not going to get any of my people into trouble.”
Miller turned to Taylor. “David, you ran that division for three and a half years. At any point during that time did you hear anyone complain that Sam was too cozy with DCI Kennedy?”
“Not a single person.”
“How about anyone else at the CIA?”
“Nope.”
“Well,” Miller said, setting down his pen, “that’s a pretty short list. Your case doesn’t look very strong at the moment. We have protocols in place for a reason, and it is not up to you to decide when you may or may not follow them. So this is your last chance. Why did you think you couldn’t trust EAD Hargrave?”
Wilson cleared his throat and drummed his fingers on the table for a minute. This was a card he’d hoped he wouldn’t have to play, but he really had no choice. “Senator Ferris told me that EAD Hargrave was not to be trusted in this matter and that I should try to run my investigation without his interference.”
Miller made a great show of taking notes. As he scratched away he asked, “Tell me, Joel, I’m pretty familiar with the Bureau’s organizational chart, but I must have missed something. Just where does Senator Ferris’s name appear on that chart?”
“It doesn’t, sir.”
“Jason,” Miller said, turning to the head of the FBI’s Office of Congressional Affairs, “I assume Joel followed protocol and reported his discussions with Senator Ferris to your office.”
“He did not.”
“Were you aware in any way that Joel was working with Senator Ferris?”
“No. We had no idea.”
Wilson could see how bad this looked. His only hope was to get to the heart of the corruption. “Sir, I don’t want people’s animosity toward the senator to cloud their judgment.”
“Careful,” Miller snapped, like a judge warning a wayward attorney, “we’re not talking about feelings or opinions. We’re sticking to the facts right now. And so far the facts are looking an awful lot like you willfully withheld information from your superior and that you failed to inform Congressional Affairs that you were running an investigation based on information passed along to you by Senator Ferris.”
“That’s not true, sir. I received independent information that employees of the CIA were stealing millions of dollars in cash and placing the money in a private bank in Switzerland.” Wilson grabbed the file from his briefcase and slid it toward the director. “I have the accounts and the amounts and dates of the deposits along with a sworn affidavit from the private banker who handled the accounts. In the affidavit the banker swears that both Joe Rickman and Mitch Rapp were the owners of these accounts.”
“And how did you come by this information?” Miller asked.
“The first batch in the mail, and then I interviewed the banker myself. He’s a very credible witness.”
Miller looked at the file. “That affidavit is in this file?”
“Yes, it is, sir.”
Miller flipped through the pages until he found what he was looking for. “The banker’s name has been blacked out.”
“For security reasons, sir.”
Miller picked up his pen again. “Let’s have it.”
Miller’s face twisted into a look of disapproval while he leaned forward and tapped the screen of an iPad several times.
Wilson heard his voice emanate from the overhead speakers. Oh, I’m reading you loud and clear. Are you still recording our conversation? Because I want to make sure you get this part. I didn’t tell you any of this because I can’t trust you. Because the entire Counterintelligence Division knows that you’re too close to Director Kennedy, and based on what I’ve experienced the last few days I’m inclined to believe those rumors. So you better get ready for your own board of inquiry.
Wilson remembered the words all too well. At the time he had spewed them at Hargrave it felt good. Hearing them now in this setting, they seemed foolish.
“This is a fairly serious accusation.” Miller picked up a pen and held it just above the surface of a yellow legal pad. “Which employees of the Counterintelligence Division believe that Sam is too close to DCI Kennedy?”
“Sir, I’m here to answer for myself. I’m not comfortable involving other people in this.”
“But you’re comfortable enough to throw around wild accusations?” Miller stared at Wilson, waiting for a reply.
“It’s not that, sir, it’s just that I’m willing to answer for my own opinions, but I’m not going to get any of my people into trouble.”
Miller turned to Taylor. “David, you ran that division for three and a half years. At any point during that time did you hear anyone complain that Sam was too cozy with DCI Kennedy?”
“Not a single person.”
“How about anyone else at the CIA?”
“Nope.”
“Well,” Miller said, setting down his pen, “that’s a pretty short list. Your case doesn’t look very strong at the moment. We have protocols in place for a reason, and it is not up to you to decide when you may or may not follow them. So this is your last chance. Why did you think you couldn’t trust EAD Hargrave?”
Wilson cleared his throat and drummed his fingers on the table for a minute. This was a card he’d hoped he wouldn’t have to play, but he really had no choice. “Senator Ferris told me that EAD Hargrave was not to be trusted in this matter and that I should try to run my investigation without his interference.”
Miller made a great show of taking notes. As he scratched away he asked, “Tell me, Joel, I’m pretty familiar with the Bureau’s organizational chart, but I must have missed something. Just where does Senator Ferris’s name appear on that chart?”
“It doesn’t, sir.”
“Jason,” Miller said, turning to the head of the FBI’s Office of Congressional Affairs, “I assume Joel followed protocol and reported his discussions with Senator Ferris to your office.”
“He did not.”
“Were you aware in any way that Joel was working with Senator Ferris?”
“No. We had no idea.”
Wilson could see how bad this looked. His only hope was to get to the heart of the corruption. “Sir, I don’t want people’s animosity toward the senator to cloud their judgment.”
“Careful,” Miller snapped, like a judge warning a wayward attorney, “we’re not talking about feelings or opinions. We’re sticking to the facts right now. And so far the facts are looking an awful lot like you willfully withheld information from your superior and that you failed to inform Congressional Affairs that you were running an investigation based on information passed along to you by Senator Ferris.”
“That’s not true, sir. I received independent information that employees of the CIA were stealing millions of dollars in cash and placing the money in a private bank in Switzerland.” Wilson grabbed the file from his briefcase and slid it toward the director. “I have the accounts and the amounts and dates of the deposits along with a sworn affidavit from the private banker who handled the accounts. In the affidavit the banker swears that both Joe Rickman and Mitch Rapp were the owners of these accounts.”
“And how did you come by this information?” Miller asked.
“The first batch in the mail, and then I interviewed the banker myself. He’s a very credible witness.”
Miller looked at the file. “That affidavit is in this file?”
“Yes, it is, sir.”
Miller flipped through the pages until he found what he was looking for. “The banker’s name has been blacked out.”
“For security reasons, sir.”
Miller picked up his pen again. “Let’s have it.”
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