Oath of Loyalty (Mitch Rapp #21)(94)

Kennedy saw a limousine enter the lot and followed it in the rearview mirror until it pulled alongside. A quick tug on the door handle and she was out, crossing through the rain and sliding into the luxurious backseat before it could drench her. She stayed to the right, using the angle to examine the face of the driver. The fact that he was unfamiliar wasn’t particularly surprising. His Eastern European accent was somewhat more so.

“Good afternoon, Dr. Kennedy.”

A mercenary that the Cooks could be absolutely certain she had no connection to? Someone willing to transport her to a black site from which she would never emerge? At this point, it didn’t much matter. The only thing to do was enjoy the ride.

“This is a backup limousine,” the unnamed driver continued. “The one that took Mrs. Cook to her event will have a mechanical issue and we’ll pull in shortly before she’s finished. When we arrive, make sure you’ve moved to the seat directly behind me. That will ensure that the press can’t see you when the door opens. The window tint will handle the rest.”

“I understand,” Kennedy said simply.



As expected, their arrival was timed to perfection. They’d barely glided to a stop when Catherine Cook appeared on the steps, followed by a swarm of teachers and schoolchildren. Her security detail spoke brusquely into their radios as they controlled the press and scanned for threats.

Through the window, Kennedy could see that Catherine had made real strides in her ability to feign emotion and warmth. Her smile was broad as she shook hands, doled out a few hugs to the children, and finally retreated. A Secret Service agent followed with an umbrella, opening the vehicle’s door just enough for her to slip inside.

The first lady stared straight ahead, her smile fading as the door was slammed shut and a wall of glass rose to separate the driver. She didn’t speak, waiting for the motorcade to pull away before acknowledging Kennedy’s presence.

“I’m told we have twenty minutes. So, make your accusations quickly.”

“I think we’re well beyond that,” Kennedy said, pointing to the side of Catherine’s head. “May I?”

The woman gave a short nod and Kennedy searched her hair and collar for any kind of listening device. Finding none, she scooted close enough that her lips brushed the woman’s ear. “Let’s speak in whispers, shall we?”

Another nod.

“Legion has been neutralized.”

The fact that her words got no reaction was a good sign. It suggested that the first lady was there to talk seriously instead of to feign ignorance or innocence.

“But not killed. Redirected toward a new target. One you’re familiar with.”

The woman’s throat moved as she swallowed.

“Your husband started a war that I suspect you advised him against. Now the tide has turned against him. Even with all your resources, you won’t find Mitch. And he’s confident that Legion will succeed.”

“What’s your interest in this, Irene?”

“As much as I despise everything you and your husband stand for, I don’t think his death will serve America or democracy. And, frankly, when I look at my friend’s life going forward, I don’t like what I see. He deserves better than to spend the next thirty years hiding in caves and watching the sky for drones. His country owes him better.”

“What do you propose?”

“That we find a way to reinstate the truce between the two foolish men in our lives.”

“A tall order, no?”

“I think it can be done. But first we’ll have to trust each other.”

“An even taller order.”

“In this narrow band, we have similar interests.”

Catherine shook her head slowly. “You’re wrong, Irene.”

“How so?”

“The band isn’t narrow. Look at what you’ve done to this country and the world. Look at what the weak presidents you admire have done. How much longer can we survive with a political class and media that benefits from hysteria? American democracy worked for a while but now it’s becoming chaos. And you want me to believe that the great Irene Kennedy can’t see it? If you think the American people are going to find their reason again, you’re deluding yourself. And self-delusion isn’t something women like us can afford.”

“We don’t have much time and I think we’re wandering a bit off topic. Our—”

“Come back to us, Irene.”

Kennedy wasn’t often caught off guard, but this was one of those times.

“We aren’t the destroyer of worlds,” Catherine continued. “We’re not Hitler or Stalin or Caesar, and we don’t aspire to be. But the American people have become a mob that’s tearing itself apart. For nothing. Entertainment. Boredom. Casual cruelty and momentary glimpses of what they think is power. Darren Hargrave is an idiot and a cretin. He can’t help us save this country. You can. Accept my offer and have a seat at the table.”

Kennedy leaned back in the leather seat. “Is that what you offered Mike?”

“Yes. And he was smart enough to take it. To put himself in a position to help you and shape policy going forward.”

Kennedy nodded thoughtfully. “And Mitch?”

“He has to go, and you know it. But you’ll be in the position to protect the others. Scott and his people. Claudia and Anna—”