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Hurley offered a shrug and said, “Who gives a shit? So she and Doc are going to want to slice and dice your performance? That’s nothing new.” Hurley drew his 1911 from his hip holster and set it on the desk. “Let’s go.” Hurley motioned at Rapp to do the same and said, “Come on.”
Maslick disengaged the lock and Rapp entered the cell, Hurley behind him. The interrogation table was bolted to the concrete floor, as were the chairs on each side. The bed was also bolted to the floor, and next to it was a toilet with no seat and a small sink. The floor was coated with three inches of black rubber to cushion any falls, and the walls and ceiling were covered in gray foam acoustic tiles that enabled the microphones to catch even the softest whisper.
Rapp set the file on the table and pointed to the chair on the other side. Gould slowly unclasped his hands from behind his head and sat up. “Who’s that?” he asked, looking past Rapp.
Rapp didn’t bother looking over his shoulder. This arrogant prick was still trying to act as if he was in a charge. Before Rapp could say anything, Hurley answered.
“Who I am is none of your fucking business. You need to be concerned about why I’m here.”
Gould rolled his eyes. “Okay, why are you here?”
“I’m here to make sure he kills you this time, and if he doesn’t I’ll gladly step in and snap your neck.”
“Yeah, right,” Gould scoffed. “Give it your best shot, old man.”
Rapp felt Hurley move past him. Gould was caught in a bad spot on the edge of the bed and underestimated Hurley’s quickness. He was halfway up when Hurley smacked him in the jaw with a quick right hook. Gould fell back to the bed and Rapp saw Hurley turn back to him with a pair of brass knuckles on his right hand. Gould was half sitting against the wall holding his jaw. His eyes were closed tight, as he fought through the pain.
“You’re not in charge,” Rapp said. “So get your ass over here, or I’ll let this old man beat the shit out of you.”
Gould slowly made his way over to the table, working his jaw as he sat. “That was uncalled for.” Addressing Rapp, he added, “That’s the way you treat the man who saved your life?”
“Say what?”
“When I got to that building across the street and found out you were the target I could have taken the shot. It would have been easy, but I owed you. I could have run . . . I could have done anything, but instead, I chose to walk across the street and save your ass. And this is how you treat me,” Gould said as he held out his arms and looked around the cell.
“Did you have backup for the operation?”
“Excuse me?”
“Backup. Were there people there to support you?”
“No.” Gould shook his head. “I always work alone. You know that.”
Rapp opened the folder and withdrew one photo and then another. He laid them on the table side by side. “You recognize these guys?”
Gould did, but he shook his head.
“Really? That surprises me. We got them off the memory card you had when we strip-searched you at Bagram.” They were photos of two men, both talking on cell phones while manning their posts at each end of the block where the attack had taken place. Rapp laid a third photo on the table, one that had been provided by the Afghan Police. It showed one of the men lying on the ground with a bullet hole in his chest. Rapp made an educated guess and said, “You recognized this guy from your surveillance run and then when you were on the roof you shot him.”
Gould did his best to show that he was unaffected. “You may think whatever you like.”
“This is really a treat,” Rapp said, smiling, “watching you sit here like you did the right thing when we all know you’re a piece of shit. You didn’t cross the street to save my life . . . you crossed the street to save your own ass. You saw the police show up and you realized you were going to be double-crossed. Your only chance of surviving was to come over and join forces with us.”
“You have no idea what you’re talking about.”
Rapp picked up the three photos and replaced them with two new ones. He had used this trick before. Fathers and husbands were uniquely vulnerable when it came to their wives and their children. Rapp watched Gould. The only sign that the photos affected him was that he looked away after a few seconds.
“I gave you a second chance,” Rapp started.
“And I gave you your life in Kabul,” Gould quickly added. “We’re even.”
Anger in this line of work could be an asset as long as it was controlled. Rapp understood this as well as anyone, but this was an exception. This was more personal than anything he had ever dealt with. He made no effort to slow or curb the rage that came rushing to the surface. “You piece of shit. You think I’m that selfish . . . that just because you’re so in love with yourself, I must be as well? You dumbass. I would have gladly given my life if it meant that my wife and child could have lived, but I didn’t get that choice because you killed them.” Rapp leaned over the table and drilled Gould square in the nose with his left fist. Gould’s head snapped back, and blood began cascading over his upper lip.
Rapp walked around the table and punched him in the side of the head. Gould moved his arms and hands up to protect his face. Rapp grabbed him by the hair with his right hand and pounded away. “You selfish fuck. I gave you a second chance at life. I allowed you and your wife to live so you could raise that little girl. Do you know what I’d give to spend one more day with my wife?” Rapp stopped punching and yanked Gould’s head back so he would have to look at him. “I never got to meet my kid, you idiot. I gave you life. You’ve spent three years with your daughter. I didn’t get one fucking second.” Rapp’s left fist came crashing down two more times, the thin skin above Gould’s left eye bursting. “What are you . . . some kind of a crack addict . . . you need the fix . . . you can’t walk away?”
“You don’t understand,” Gould yelled back. “You’re still in the game. You don’t know what it’s like . . . all of these idiots wandering through life. There’s a fucking Walmart in New Zealand . . . did you know that?”
“What in the hell are you talking about?” With the realization that Gould might be nuts, Rapp let go. “You actually think we’re alike, don’t you?”