"Don't worry, I'll be back."

"No, you won't."

Rapp stopped and looked down at the prisoner. There was a definite change in the way Haggani met his stare. Gone was the rage and bravado, the stubborn defiance. It was replaced by something very different; something that embarrassed Rapp on a level he didn't think possible. It was contempt; scorn for an opponent deemed unworthy.

"This is why you will never beat us," Haggani said in a voice that was simple and matter-of-fact; one warrior to another. "You are not tough enough. Your country is too divided... too concerned with the rights of your enemies."

"Don't confuse me with those people back in Washington. I'm not done with you. Not by a long shot."

Rapp led Maslick out of the interrogation room and down the short hall to the observation room. As he reached for the doorknob he reminded himself that these air force guys respected men who took charge. Unlike the civilian world, where leadership was a fluid concept, in the military there was very little gray. Rank ruled the day and there was only one man on the other side of the door who could beat the two black eagles on Rapp's collar. He thought of General Garrison, the base commander. He'd skimmed the man's personnel file on the flight over, and now he was cursing himself for not paying closer attention. He had a few vague recollections of him. He was an Air Force Academy grad and on the young side for a brigadier general, which meant he was either really good at his job, really lucky, or a really good kiss-ass. Whatever the answer, Rapp supposed it didn't matter, since his only chance was to meet this thing head-on. He'd bluff them long enough to get the others out of there and then come clean, or at least partially clean.

Rapp readied himself and then pulled open the door. He stepped into the other room and was surprised to find everyone with their backs to him. Rapp moved forward a few steps and motioned for Maslick to continue to the right, where General Dostum was standing. Everyone's attention seemed to be focused on the hallway that led to the offices and the main exit. Three men were talking. One was Nash, who was the only person facing him. Rapp couldn't see the faces of the other two men, but they appeared to be rather upset by the way they were shouting and pointing.

"So you're denying that man is CIA?" the taller of the two asked in a stern voice.

"Listen," Nash said, "I think you two need to calm down."

Rapp did a quick scan of the room. He found everybody on his team except Dumond. He looked again and still couldn't find him. Unsure of whether this was a good sign or a bad sign, Rapp turned his attention back to the conversation.

"Calm down?" the older man asked more forcefully. "This is my damn base, Mr. Nash. If that man is CIA and he is impersonating an officer, I'm going to throw both of you in lockup."

That had to be General Garrison. Rapp straightened up, cleared his throat to get everyone's attention, and yelled, "What in God's name are all you people doing here? This facility is in lockdown."

One by one, heads turned and feet shuffled as everyone did a 180 to meet the new voice of authority. General Garrison eyed Rapp warily and asked, "And you are?"

"Who I am is not what's important. What is important is that this facility is off-limits until oh seven hundred." Rapp motioned from one side of the room to the other. "None of you are authorized to be here right now."

"By whose authority?" asked the man standing next to the general.

Rapp took note of the two bars on the collar and said, "The secretary of defense, Captain."

"Why weren't we informed?"

"I don't think the secretary of defense feels the need to go around explaining himself to captains," Rapp growled. He directed his attention to the general and said, "Sir, I suggest for your own good that you vacate this facility and let me do my job. Trust me... this is not something you want to get in the middle of. Whoever got you out of bed didn't do you any favors."

General Garrison turned and gave Captain Leland a hard stare.

"Sir," Leland said, "this man is CIA. I will stake my entire reputation on it."

Rapp saw movement to his right, but didn't want to look. He hoped it was Maslick leading Dostum and the others toward the door. "Your reputation is not what's at stake here, Captain. It's the general's career." Rapp turned his glare back to Garrison. "There are some very important people in Washington who are waiting for me to finish what I was sent here to do."

"Does that include impersonating an officer in the United States Air Force?" Garrison asked.

Rapp didn't know what to say, so he said nothing.

"How about beating a bound prisoner to a bloody pulp?" Leland asked.

"That's it," Rapp growled. "Everybody out of here." He turned away from the two officers. "I need to have a word in private with the general and his aide." Rapp began shooing people down the hallway toward the exit. Everybody moved except Nash.

"Slow down there," the captain said, "I don't think you're in any position to be giving orders around here."

Rapp turned on him before he could say anything else, like telling the MPs to stay put. "General, I suggest you tell Dudley Do-Right here to shut his piehole. What I have to tell you is highly classified. The president, the secretary of defense, and only a few others have been briefed. I can't very well tell a roomful of enlisted servicemen." Not bothering to wait for a response, Rapp told the others to get moving and then said to Nash, "You too." Rapp mouthed the words Get on the plane. Get on the plane.

Nash shook his head. "No."

"Don't argue with me." Rapp grabbed Nash by the arm and started walking him down the hallway. In a low voice, he added, "Get back to D.C. I can handle the political heat... you can't. Tell them you verified the third cell and get Mohammad transferred to our custody."

"Mitch, this is serious shit."

"I've been in far worse. I'll talk my way out of it."

Nash looked back down the hall at the two officers and said, "Don't count on it. That Leland is a real pick."

"I'm not exactly easy to get along with," Rapp said with a grin. "Just get everyone on that plane and get the hell out of here."

CHAPTER 15

THE two officers watched the mystery colonel lead the CIA man down the short hallway, where they stopped and exchanged a few words. Without taking his eyes off them, Captain Leland said, "Sir, I don't like this. I don't trust these spooks."

"It can't hurt to hear him out." Garrison had finally shaken the sleep from his head. The drastic swings of fate had helped push the dull fog away and he was now operating on a level that was more appropriate for command. The fog of war was not localized to combat, The fog of war was not localized to combat, he thought. Only moments ago, his entire career had flashed before his eyes, corkscrewing downward in a tailspin that would surely result in a spectacularly tragic fireball. Now he was confronted with something entirely different. He watched the two men speak. He had never liked the idea of these spooks lurking around his base. They were insolent bastards who seemed to be always looking for a way to cause trouble, but they were more important to this fight perhaps than any other in modern history. The one wearing the rank of colonel turned and was coming back to them. he thought. Only moments ago, his entire career had flashed before his eyes, corkscrewing downward in a tailspin that would surely result in a spectacularly tragic fireball. Now he was confronted with something entirely different. He watched the two men speak. He had never liked the idea of these spooks lurking around his base. They were insolent bastards who seemed to be always looking for a way to cause trouble, but they were more important to this fight perhaps than any other in modern history. The one wearing the rank of colonel turned and was coming back to them.

"Sir, I think you should lock him up."

Garrison put his hand out in a silencing gesture. "I want to hear what he has to say first." The idea that the man might really be doing the bidding of the president was worth exploring.

"Don't expect the truth."

"It won't hurt to listen to him, Captain."

"General," Rapp announced as he stopped a few feet in front of them, "I apologize for all of this, but this is a difficult situation."

"There's no excuse for what we saw you doing to that prisoner."

"Captain, when I want your opinion, I'll ask for it."

"This is a United States Air Force base. You have no authority to tell anyone on this base to do a thing. I suggest..."

"I suggest you shut your fucking mouth," Rapp snapped, "I'm a GS-Sixteen, Captain, so that makes me the equivalent of a flag officer. I'm a special advisor on terrorism to the director of the CIA, the director of National Intelligence, and the National Security Council. I'm on a first-name basis with the secretary of defense, and the president has me on speed dial, so unless you're a hell of a lot more important than your entirely unimpressive appearance or those two bars would lead me to believe, I suggest you butt the fuck out and let me talk to the general."

Leland's complexion flushed with embarrassment. Rapp, feeling like he had finally got his point across, looked at the base commander and said, "I want to start off by apologizing for all of this. My methods aren't pretty... Alerting you about what I was up to was not something you would've welcomed."

"You were just going to sneak in and sneak out?"

"Yes."

"And I would be left in the dark."

"Your judgment would be left intact."

"And the marks on the prisoner? How would I explain that?"

"That was not intended. He tried to bite me." Rapp looked up at the monitor, as did the two officers. Haggani was still tied to his chair. His blood-streaked face looked horrible. Rapp grimaced and offered, "It's not as bad as it looks."

"It looks bad, Mr... .?" The general left the question unfinished.

Rapp wavered and then thought, What the hell, I'm in deep enough already. What the hell, I'm in deep enough already. "Rapp... Mitch Rapp." "Rapp... Mitch Rapp."

"You work for the CIA?" Garrison asked.

"That's right."

"You're a spy," Leland said.

"Counterterrorism specialist."

"What exactly does that entail?" the general asked.

"It involves dealing with people like that." Rapp pointed at the screen.

"Dealing," the general repeated the word, "that's pretty vague."

"We walk in different circles, General. I don't expect someone who puts on a uniform like yours to ever fully condone what I do. You guys have to have your rules... your discipline. You need that to remain an effective fighting force. Me... I'm the guy who sneaks out under the wire late at night and crawls up next to these guys and cuts their throats."

"Is that what you tell yourself so you can sleep at night?" Leland folded his arms across his chest, a look of contempt on his face.

Rapp cocked his head and studied the captain. He couldn't care less what this wet-behind-the-ears officer thought of him, but with the intent of buying more time for Nash and the others, he supposed he should engage him. "I sleep like a baby, Captain. How about you?"

"It's because of people like you that we're losing this war."

With a raised eyebrow Rapp said, "I wasn't aware that we're losing it."

"This is about hearts and minds, and you know it. Not torturing prisoners so we can get false confessions out of them."

"False confessions... that's what you think this is about? That man sitting in that room right there; do you even know who he is?"

"It doesn't matter who he is or what he's done. As an officer of the United States Air Force, I am sworn to uphold the Geneva Conventions."

"You're also sworn to protect and defend the United States of America. So which comes first, the Geneva Conventions or your fellow citizens?"

"They coexist equally."

"I'm sure they do in your little perfect world, Captain, but out there in the real world, on the other side of the wire, things aren't so academic."

"That's where you're wrong, Mr. Rapp."

"Really... I love being told how things are by some prick in a clean uniform who thinks he has all the answers. Tell me how it is, Captain. Tell me how many terrorists you've killed. Tell me how many times you've been shot."

Leland shifted his weight from one foot to the other, his chin stuck stubbornly out. "General, I think we're wasting our time. May I please put him under arrest and have him thrown in lockup?" Leland's hand slid down to the top of his thigh holster.

"Captain," Rapp said in a casual voice, "I'll break your wrist before you ever get that thing out of the holster."

"Relax, Captain," Garrison said. "I want to hear him out first. So," he said, looking at Rapp, "this classified information you were talking about?"

It really was classified information, and Rapp now had to decide how far to go with these two. Telling the captain to leave would have technically been the right thing to do, but Rapp didn't want to free him up to check on the others. He would have to give them a heavily sanitized version of what was going on.

"About a month ago an al-Qaeda cell was intercepted on its way to the United States. A second cell was intercepted a few weeks later. We were very alarmed to find during interrogations that these cells were highly trained in commando tactics. They had researched their targets thoroughly. They'd preshipped their weapons, and I'm not just talking guns... . I'm talking high-end explosives, fuses, remote detonators... the works. They could've done some serious damage. At any rate, during the interrogations..."

"You mean torture," Leland said.

Rapp looked at the senior of the two officers and said, "General, with all due respect, if he says another word I'm going to knock him out. And trust me when I say, I'll never be punished for belting some smart-ass, low-level officer who was interfering with me trying to stop a terrorist attack on the United States. And make no mistake about it... either of you. This operation... my little midnight visit to your base... is about acting on solid intel that a third cell is still out there." Rapp paused to let the revelation sink in. "That's right, there's another group. We estimate eight to ten men, all highly trained."

"What do you want with these two," General Garrison asked, "when you already have the other men in your custody?"

"The men we have are only foot soldiers. None of them were involved in the recruiting or planning of the attacks."

Garrison nodded and then pointed at the twin monitors. "And these two?"

"Both of them are high up. In fact right before you came walking in, al-Haq was talking about making a deal."

Garrison looked at the ground for a moment and then asked, "So what do you expect me to do?"

"Go back to bed. Act like this never happened. I'll be gone in the morning, and hopefully I'll have enough information to run down this third cell and intercept them before they deploy." Even as Rapp said it he knew it wouldn't happen. Still, he had to go through the motions.

The base commander looked over at Leland and then said, "Give us a minute to discuss."

"Sure. It's your command, General." Rapp stayed firmly planted between them and the hallway that led to the exit.

General Garrison led Captain Leland to the far corner and asked in a hushed voice, "Your thoughts?"

"I don't like it. I don't like him, and I don't trust him. I think he's a liar."

"I didn't ask if I should date him, Captain. A little more nuanced opinion is what I'm looking for."

"Sorry, sir." Leland paused, set aside his personal feelings of dislike, and said, "In these situations, what gets command in trouble is never the crime. You have done nothing wrong, sir. What gets command in trouble is the cover-up. Usually the old boy network... academy grads looking out for each other." Leland exchanged a brief look with Garrison. Like they shared an unspoken bond. The general gave him no such look in return. "It starts out innocently enough, because no one thinks they are going to get caught. They usually do, though, and when that happens it's never pretty. Instead of one career being ruined it ends up being two, three, four... sometimes dozens."

"Your point being... if I go back to bed and act like nothing happened, eventually someone will find out I knew he was here."

"That he impersonated an officer, tortured a prisoner, and God only knows what else."

"So you think we should lock him up?"

"Yes!" Leland said with conviction. "You have done nothing wrong, sir. Your only concern should be to follow regulations."