Lethal Agent (Mitch Rapp #18)(103)

“Your thoughts?” the host said.

“Obviously, there are a lot of questions here. About the leaks. About the senator’s attacks on the CIA and DEA operatives putting their lives on the line to protect America. It’s my understanding that the man who captured the ISIS truck and delivered it to the army may not survive. I wonder if she would have done the same for her country?”

“And the reports that her campaign manager Kevin Gray has resigned and is being interviewed by the FBI?”

“More questions,” the man agreed. “If Senator Barnett intends to lead our party in the next presidential election, they’re going to need to be answered.”

They cut to a clip that Rapp had seen before and he hit the pause button to freeze Barnett’s face in a deer-in-the-headlights expression that bordered on fear. It was his favorite shot of her.

He sank back into the pillows and focused on a ceiling that had become a little too familiar over the past couple of weeks. The room he was imprisoned in was about twenty feet square, constructed mostly of stainless steel and glass. Mysterious medical machines hummed around him, displaying vital signs and other information that confirmed he was still alive. As though the cracking headache and constant labor of getting air in and out weren’t enough.

The illness had hit him thirty-six hours after he’d been quarantined. It started with a single, innocuous cough and then progressed to a temperature north of 104, a respirator, and finally unconsciousness.

He heard a familiar hiss to his left and let his head loll over to watch Gary Statham come through the air lock in full biohazard gear.

“How’re you feeling?” he asked while he checked the machines.

“Great.”

“Happy to hear it. I didn’t think you were going to make it.”

“What’re you talking about?” Rapp managed to get out. “You’ve been telling me I was going to be fine since I got here.”

“I was lying. But today I come bearing good tidings. Your lungs and kidneys look good and we’re not seeing any permanent damage. It’s going to take a little time but you’re going to make a full recovery.”

“Is that straight? Or another lie?”

“That’s straight,” Statham said, turning toward the bed. He was a little hard to hear through the space suit. “You’ll be back shooting people in the face before you know it.”

“Outstanding,” Rapp said, already a little out of breath from the conversation. It was hard to imagine even being able to get out of bed. Combat seemed a million miles away.

“Believe it or not, there are some people here who seem anxious to see you. Are you up for a five-minute visit?”

“Sure.”

Statham clipped a microphone to Rapp’s shirt and then disappeared back through the air lock. A few moments later, Claudia and Anna appeared on the other side of a long window to his right.

“They tell me you’re going to be fine,” Claudia said, sounding relieved, but still looking worried beneath the harsh fluorescent lights.

“Mom says you got the flu,” Anna said, straining to get eye level with the bottom of the viewing window. “My teacher says they have shots for that.”

Every time he came home from an operation the worse for wear, they had to come up with a cover story. And every time, his invented carelessness met with the girl’s disapproval. Car accidents earned him admonishments about seat belts. Falls down stairs brought on scolding about proper lighting and sensible shoes. Now he was going to get the vaccine lecture.

“Maybe I need to start going to class with you,” he said, thankful that the microphone made his voice sound stronger than it really was.

“You’re older than my teacher! Can you play a game, Mitch? We brought an Xbox and they said they’d hook it up, but it might take a few days because of the Internet and stuff.”

“Sure.”

“What do you want to play?”

“How about one of those zombie games?”

“You always want to play the shooters because you always win!”

“This could be your year.”

Her eyes narrowed.

“Let’s not badger Mitch, okay, sweetie? He isn’t feeling well and he’s always nice to you when you’re sick.”

“Okay,” she said, sounding a little guilty. Her eyes disappeared as she dropped from her tiptoes, leaving only the top of her head visible.

A long silence stretched out as Claudia stared through the glass. She’d never seen him like this and it appeared to terrify her. He’d have said something to reassure her but he was still recovering from his extended conversation with Anna.

“Scott’s here to see you. Should I tell him no? That you need to rest?”

Rapp shook his head. “I’m okay.”

“Irene said she’d come tomorrow, when you’re feeling a little stronger. She’s working on a project she says you’re going to like.” Claudia patted her daughter’s head. “Say good-bye.”

“Bye, Mitch! I’ll tell them to hurry with that Xbox!”

They disappeared and were quickly replaced by the slightly sunburned face of Scott Coleman. He’d been in a similar hospital bed after his run-in with Grisha Azarov and he seemed to be enjoying the tables being turned.