Lethal Agent (Mitch Rapp #18)(34)



“The bottom line,” Statham continued, “is that Halabi could kill a lot more people with a bomb or mass shooter. And it would be a hell of a lot less complicated.”

“But not as terrifying,” Kennedy said, turning her attention to Barnett and locking eyes with her. “The upcoming election’s widening the already dangerous divisions in America. He understands that the fire’s already raging and now he’s passing out gas cans to anyone willing to use them.”

As expected, Barnett glared back. What wasn’t expected, though, was the nearly imperceptible smile.

“Irene,” the president said, again trying to cut through the tension between the two women, “do we have any idea where Halabi and the French scientist are now?”

“That’s why I was a little late arriving,” Kennedy said. “We had a geological appraisal done on a cave wall visible in the last video. The general consensus is that it’s consistent with what you’d find in Somalia. Unfortunately, a country where we have even fewer resources than in Yemen.”

Again, Barnett laughed. “It’s my understanding that we don’t have any resources in Yemen. From what I’ve been told, Mitch Rapp rolled into Al Hudaydah and started throwing his weight around, then flew into an ambush. We were forced to start mounting a rescue operation and in the process our operation’s cover was blown.”

It was a skillfully conceived piece of spin, typical of her and her office. Nothing she said was an outright lie, but it managed to tell a story that was more or less the opposite of the truth.

“The only lead we had was that village,” Kennedy said calmly. “Mitch went in knowing full well that an ambush was possible. A chopper pilot was killed and Mitch spent two days fighting his way out of the desert. I wonder if you’d have done the same for your country, Senator?”

“I’ve devoted my entire life to public service,” she shot back.

“And I’m sure we’re all very grateful for the sacrifices you’ve made,” Kennedy responded, but she was already starting to regret the exchange. All interactions with this woman were a bad combination of dangerous and a waste of time. Barnett placed everyone in two columns: useful to her and dangerous to her. Kennedy’s designation had been determined long ago.

“And what exactly is Mitch Rapp’s status with regard to the CIA?” Barnett asked.

Kennedy was surprised by the question. They were talking about a potential biological attack on the United States. What did Mitch’s employment details matter? She glanced at the president but he seemed to be content to give Barnett some leash. Instead of intervening, he was scrutinizing the woman as though she were a toddler trying to learn a new skill.

“I’m not sure what you’re asking, Senator.”

“Does he work for you?”

“He no longer works directly for the government, if that’s what you mean. He’s a private contractor.”

“Contractor,” Barnett repeated. “Is that a way of saying that what little oversight we once had over him is gone?”

An expression of resigned disappointment appeared on Alexander’s face and he finally stepped in. “I think we’re getting a little off topic here, Gary. As much as I hate to even contemplate this attack happening, what if it does? What are we doing to get ready for it?”

“The most important thing we can do is get the facts out there and keep the hysteria down. Though that’s easier said than done with everything getting stirred up by the media and the—” He managed to catch himself before saying politicians. “Uh, the medical community is prepared and looking for potential infections. If anything, we’re going to end up with an overreaction. People thinking they have anthrax when they don’t. But that’s not a serious problem.”

“Irene?” the president said.

“We’re marshaling what resources we can in Somalia but, as I said, they’re limited. And obviously we’re coordinating with other areas of Homeland Security to do what we can to keep any biological agent from ever making it into the United States.”

Joshua Alexander nodded. There wasn’t much more he could do. He was at the end of his last term in office and it was likely that this disaster would land in his successor’s lap. On one hand, he was incredibly thankful for that. Eight years in this job was enough for anyone and too much for most people. On the other hand, the idea of Christine Barnett taking the reins was terrifying.

“I want daily progress reports from both of you. And if anything significant changes, contact me immediately.”

Kennedy and Statham—two of the most competent and reliable people he’d ever worked with—nodded and stood. After a few strained pleasantries, his three guests began filing out. Before Barnett could fully turn toward the door, though, Alexander put a hand on her shoulder.

“Could you hang back for a minute, Christine?”

When they were alone, Alexander indicated toward the sofa Barnett had been sitting on. The senator looked a bit suspicious, but she sat and watched him take the chair opposite.

“I don’t agree with the way you’re running your campaign, but I’m a big boy and I understand that what you’re doing is effective.” He pointed to the Resolute Desk. “And that pretty soon that’ll probably be yours.”

Vince Flynn, & Kyle's Books