"I'm not sure I do sometimes, Rob." He gestured to Nash and said, "Look at you two. You look beat. You look ashamed."

"We're worried," Nash said.

"Well, don't be," Rapp replied, "I've got it under control."

"It sure the hell doesn't look like it." Ridley turned and walked over to O'Brien.

Looking at Nash, Rapp said, "What in the hell is wrong with him?"

"Mitch," Nash said in a tired voice, "you just don't get it sometimes."

Rapp looked slightly taken aback. "Now I'm getting it from you too, junior."

Nash put his right hand on his hip and looked at the ground. "It doesn't look good out there."

"Everything is going exactly the way I thought it would."

"Does that include you going to jail?"

"I'm not going to jail. I can promise you that."

"What about us?"

"You don't see them asking you any questions, do you?"

"Not yet. That's the problem with these things, Mitch. They have a way of growing. You said it yourself. Before this is over there'll be another five committees looking into what happened."

"Let 'em."

"And you don't think that's going to take a toll on us? Both personally and professionally?"

"I'm the one they're after."

"There's no doubt about that," said Nash dully, "but this isn't going to be a precision air strike. It never is, with these guys. They're gonna carpet-bomb us and you can't guarantee that a few of us won't go down in the process."

Rapp sighed, "So that's what you guys are so glum about?"

"Yeah," Nash said in hushed voice. "We have families, Mitch. Maggie is scared to death that Feds are going to show up one day and take me away in cuffs. Right in front of the children. Right in the middle of frickin' dinner. She has the nightmare once a week at least. There're countries I can't go to now because that goddamn rendition program got leaked. Italy! We went there on our honeymoon and now we can't go back. This shit is wearing on our families. You look at Rob over there." Nash pointed to Ridley. "He's got three kids he has to put through college. How in the hell do you think he's going to do that if these asses get him fired and take away his pension? How in the hell do you think he's going to afford the attorneys he's going to have to hire to try and keep his ass out of jail?"

Rapp nodded as if he finally understood this for the first time, but he didn't. This was central to why he was forcing the issue. He turned to O'Brien and Ridley, who were talking in the other corner. "Guys, come here."

The two men shared a few more words and then joined Rapp and Nash.

"Gentlemen, maybe I haven't been clear enough with you. Chuck," Rapp said to O'Brien, "I think you probably understand this more than these two because Irene has been keeping you in the loop." Rapp grinned and added, "Your kids are all out on their own, and being the salty prick that you are, you've put in enough time that you can tell every one of those senators to stick it right up their ass if you feel like."

"That's right," O'Brien said without smiling.

"So my comments are more directed at these two, but I think you'll want to hear them as well." Rapp looked at Nash and then Ridley and said, "We've spent the last six years avoiding this fight. And I mean this shit right here." Rapp pointed at the ground. "This committee. We're like an invading army that keeps bypassing cities because we know things are going to get ugly if we go in and try to clean the rat bastards out block by block. We've avoided the problem, and now because we didn't do it right the first time we have this insurgency on our hands. Our supply lines are all fucked up and our confidence is shot. We spend every day looking over our shoulders wondering if our government is going to ambush us." Nash and Ridley shared a sad knowing exchange and nodded.

Rapp leaned in a few inches and said, "Well, I'm done fucking around. And as two retired Marine combat officers you two should understand this better than most. This fight with the Hill has been coming regardless of whether or not we want it. You know the tactics... if a fight is unavoidable then you might as well pick the time and the place. Take some of the guesswork out of the equation and take the battle to the enemy. As to why I decided to force the issue now... you guys both know the answer to that. This third cell we've been worried about... we've hit a wall. We don't know where to even start looking for these guys."

"So what is all this going to accomplish?" Nash asked. "You trying to put yourself up on the cross? I don't get it."

"I'm not into the martyr thing," Rapp grinned. "You know that. What I'm trying to do is bring this thing to a head."

"Why?" asked Ridley. "Why now?"

"Because I think we're going to get hit. And I just told you, I'd rather choose the time and place of the fight. Have you noticed that not a single senator has bothered to ask me why I would take such a gamble running an op like this?"

The other three men shared a look and said, "No."

"It's because they're so stuck in their own world. We've allowed them to depict us as a bunch of goons who smack prisoners around because we get some sick, sadistic thrill out of it. They hold us accountable, but we never hold them accountable."

"How in the hell are we going to hold them accountable?" O'Brien asked in his raspy voice.

"By telling them about these other two cells and letting them know the third one is on the loose."

"And what are you going to do when they ask for the details about this plot? The whole damn reason we haven't told them so far is because they always want to know the details. Are you going to tell them the Brits farmed it out to the Thais - and they tortured the shit out of them?"

"You'll see when we go back in there."

"What are you waiting for? You've already gone through two thirds of them."

Rapp smiled. "I'm waiting for Lonsdale."

"Why her?" Nash asked.

"Because she chairs Judiciary, and that's where this whole thing is headed."

One of the committee staffers poked their head in the door and told them it was time. Rapp said they'd be right along, and then as soon as the door was closed, he looked each man in the eye and said, "You guys all have deniability, so stop looking so damn defeated when you're in there. You're warriors... be proud of what we do."

CHAPTER 44

SENATOR Lonsdale hurried down the hallway as quickly as her black leather Marc Jacobs pumps could carry her near perfectly proportioned frame. Her rail-thin chief of staff was galloping beside her, his long, lanky stride doubling his boss's. They crossed over from the Hart Senate Office Building to Dirksen. Technically they were two buildings, but they existed as one, with every floor of the two buildings connecting. Lonsdale and Wassen went through the senator's private door. Wassen stopped to have a word with the two executive assistants, but the senator kept moving.

She went straight into her large office and closed the door. This one was drastically different from her office in the Capitol. It was almost as big, but where the other one was ornately decorated, this one was utilitarian. There were no marble or plaster reliefs, just Sheetrock and carpeting. The furniture reflected the space. Everything was very linear and slightly modern.

Lonsdale kicked off her pumps and grabbed her pack of cigarettes and lighter from her top-left desk drawer. She flicked the switch on the special ventilation unit she'd had installed and fired up her first cigarette. The smooth, warm smoke filled her lungs and she felt herself begin to relax. It took every bit of her reserve to sit there silently for two hours while her colleagues maneuvered. There was Joe Valdez, whom she had never been impressed with, serving up one retarded question after another. She could see that, as chairman of the Foreign Relations Committee, he was going to try and get a piece of the action, but the way she had it figured he was fifth on the list, and she wasn't going to give him jack shit.

A couple puffs later she looked down and scanned her call sheet. Most of the names weren't important enough to call back today, but there were a few she would have to get to tonight when they wrapped things up. For now she wanted to get herself in the right frame of mind for her shot at the den of liars. Pretty much everyone had gone over their allotted fifteen minutes, and Lonsdale planned on doing the same. She figured as chairman of the Judiciary they would all expect her to go after them, and fifteen minutes wasn't nearly enough to question the five of them.

An unmarked manila folder lay on the desk. She opened it and began reading the list of potential questions her staff had put together for her based on the first round of questions. By the time she'd finished reading them, she was finished with the cigarette. She stabbed it out in the crystal ashtray, where it sat there crooked and tattooed with red lipstick. Lonsdale hesitated and then decided to grab another one. She'd just finished lighting it when Wassen entered the room. As always, he closed the door behind him.

"Five minutes."

She nodded and exhaled a cloud over her shoulder toward the ventilation machine.

"Second one?" Wassen asked with a curious eye.

"I didn't know you were counting."

"I've noticed an uptick uptick lately," he said in a disapproving voice. lately," he said in a disapproving voice.

Lonsdale's pretty little nose scrunched up, and it looked for a moment like she might stick her tongue out at him. Wassen unnerved her at times, probably because no one knew her better. Since the death of her husband thirteen years ago, he had been her constant companion. He was like a father, husband, and girlfriend all rolled into one.

"Big deal," she said as she took another drag. "I'm still only smoking a pack a week."

Wassen knew it was closer to two, but there wasn't time to argue about it right now. "Did you review the questions?"

"Yes."

"And?"

"They're fine."

"Any idea who you're going to start with?"

"Kennedy," she said as she turned and looked at herself in a full-length mirror on the wall. "I'm going to light her up and then go after Rapp, and if I have time I'll take Nash apart."

"Sound strategy."

Lonsdale ran a hand along the front of her black Theory 'Rory-Tailor' jacket and matching pants. She spotted a few wrinkles and frowned.

Wassen read her mind and said, "Don't worry about it. No cameras."

He was right. She set the half-finished cigarette in the ashtray and grabbed a small makeup bag from the credenza behind her desk. She took a brush with powder and began dabbing her face. "Can you believe Joe Valdez is a United States senator?"

"Not the sharpest tack in the drawer."

"And then that bitch Patty Lamb. She's going to try and wrestle this thing away from me and get it in front of Homeland Security."

"Let her try," Wassen said as he checked his watch, "it'll never happen."

Lonsdale put the makeup brush away and plucked at the neck of her white spandex T-shirt to get some of the skin-colored powder off. She began lining her lips and said, "It's going to come down to Ted Darby and I."

"Yes it will, and you'll both end up holding hearings. There's no way you're going to wrestle it away from him, and there's no way he's going to wrestle it away from you."

She thought about the chairman of the Armed Services Committee while she finished lining her lips. "I suppose you're right."

"We need to get back. You don't want them to start without you and let someone else go after them as hard as you will."

Lonsdale put out her cigarette and said, "Right you are, Ralphy."

She gave herself a quick spray of perfume and put on her pumps, and they left. Her personal assistants were standing when she walked through the small lobby. Both wished her luck and told her to go get them. Lonsdale kept a pleasant yet determined look on her face and shook her fist in the air as she walked past them and into the wide hallway. As they strolled back to the committee room, more people wished her luck. This was the big show on Capitol Hill today and everyone knew she would be the one to go for the throat.

Lonsdale was in fact one of the last people to make it back to the committee room. She took her seat and peered down at the CIA employees. Her face slowly transformed into a disapproving frown and then she began to sadly shake her head. Senator Safford called the meeting back to order and before turning things over to Lonsdale reminded the witnesses that they were still under oath.

"Senator Lonsdale," Safford said as he slid his reading glasses up onto his shiny forehead, "you may begin."

Lonsdale thanked the chairman and took a moment to look down at her notes even though what she was about to say was not written down. She deliberately removed her stylish black reading glasses and said, "Director Kennedy, I think that your performance as director of the Central Intelligence Agency has been an embarrassment to this country from the day you took over. Your tenure has been one disaster after another, and for the life of me, I can't understand why you won't simply resign."

The objections erupted from the other side of the table. Even Lonsdale's fellow party members were shaking their heads and mumbling to each other. Safford banged his gavel until silence was restored and then admonished Lonsdale. "We are here today to gather information, not to indict and convict on incomplete evidence."

Lonsdale stayed on the offensive, saying, "I'm not even talking about illegal activities. I'll get to that in a minute. I'm talking about gross incompetence. This is not our first go-around with Mr. Rapp. This committee has been telling Director Kennedy for some time that she needs to keep Mr. Rapp on a shorter leash. Apparently she has intentionally ignored us, or she is incapable of managing her people. You choose," she said, looking directly at Kennedy. "Either way, she needs to go."

The objections erupted yet again, with Senator Gayle Kendrick leading the charge, "I would like to remind my colleague from Missouri that Director Kennedy has devoted nearly twenty-five years of her life to the service of this country and she deserves to be treated with respect, regardless of one's political beliefs."

"So you want us to just blindly respect people because they've been a bureaucrat for twenty-five years without taking into account the abuses and illegal activities they've condoned and participated in?"

"You see," Kendrick said to the chairman and vice chairman, "this is what she's going to do when she gets this in front of her committee. She's going to turn a hearing into a trial, and she's going to act as the judge even though she already has her mind made up."

"That's not true," Lonsdale said without much conviction.

"You know it is. All you want to do is crucify her in front of a nationally televised audience."

"My committee will go where the facts take us," Lonsdale replied with a steely look.

"You will do great harm to an organization that is trying its best to protect us from our enemies."

"I would like to remind the senator from Virginia that we are a nation of laws. And it is our job to make sure those laws are obeyed."

"And I would like to remind the senator from Missouri that nowhere in the Constitution does it say we should go out of our way to afford those protections to our enemies."

The committee members erupted again with the two sides shouting at each other. Safford gaveled the room back to silence, and then without being told to proceed, Lonsdale said, "I think we can all agree that striking an officer in the United States Air Force is a crime. Now, Mr. Rapp, would you agree with that statement?"

A faint smile formed on Rapp's lips.

"Do you find this humorous, Mr. Rapp?"

"No, ma'am. I find your directness rather refreshing."

"I would appreciate that same directness from you when you answer my questions."

"I'll do my best, ma'am."

"Crimes committed," Lonsdale, repeated, "are you in agreement, Mr. Rapp, that you have broken several laws?"

"We are not in complete agreement, but I can respectfully see where you would think that I have committed a crime, or several crimes."

Lonsdale was slightly surprised by Rapp's apparent willingness to answer her. "Well, let's just start with the first one. Striking a United States Air Force officer... is that a crime?"