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“And then, what?”

“There are other days where I can’t get past those damn dark eyes of his and that lopsided grin that he uses to defuse anyone who goes poking around in his business.”

“That’s the aptitude that puts you at ease? His lopsided grin?”

“No,” Lewis scoffed. “It’s far more serious than his ability to be open one moment and then impenetrable the next, although that may have a hand in how he deals with everything. I’m talking about the very core of all of this. Why are we here? Why have we secretly funneled over fifty million dollars into this operation? I’m talking about the fact that he is a one-man wrecking ball. That he has methodically, in a little over a year, accomplished more than we have accomplished in the last decade. And let’s be brutally honest with each other.” Lewis held up a finger. “The ‘what’ that we are talking about is the stone-cold fact that he is exceedingly good at hunting down and killing men.”

Kennedy did not look at Lewis, but she nodded. They had all come to the same realization months ago. That was why they had turned him loose and allowed him to work on his own.

“I’m here,” Lewis continued, “to observe and make sure we have the right people and that their minds can handle the unique stress of this job. I have stress, you have stress, but I doubt ours compares to the stress of operating alone, often behind enemy lines, and hunting down a man and killing him.”

“So you’re worried that he’s going to snap on us.”

“Not at the moment. In fact, I think he has coped extraordinarily well with the rigors of his new job. I’ve kept a close eye on him. When he’s back here, he sleeps like a baby. His head hits the pillow, sixty seconds later he’s out and he sleeps straight through the night.”

Kennedy had wondered about this same thing. Not every operative handled the taking of another human being’s life with such ease. “So how does he deal with it . . . the blood on his hands?” she asked.

“He is a linear creature, which means he doesn’t allow a lot of ancillary issues to muddy the waters of his conscience. These men . . . the ones we target . . . they all decided of their own volition to get involved in plots to kill innocent civilians. In Rapp’s mind—and this isn’t me guessing, he’s expressed this very clearly—these men need to be punished.”

Kennedy shifted in her chair. “Simple revenge.”

“He says retribution. The distinction is slight, but I see his point.”

“Given the loss of his girlfriend, I don’t find that particularly troubling. After all, this is a job that requires a unique motivation.”

“Yes it does, but his runs deep. He thinks if these men go unpunished, it will only embolden them to kill more people. To screw up more people’s lives,” Lewis answered.

“You’ll get no argument from me. Nor from our boss, for that matter.”

Lewis smiled. “There’s one more thing, something that adds a unique twist.”

“What’s that?”

“He wants them to know he’s coming after them.”

“Theory or fact?”

“A bit of both. He knows that he can make them jumpy. Keep them up at night worrying when he’s going to show up. He wants them to fear his existence.”

“He told you this?” Kennedy asked, more than a bit surprised.

“Parts of it. The rest I pieced together,” Lewis said with a nod.

“And why didn’t you tell me?”

“I’m telling you right now.”

Kennedy moved to the edge of her chair. “I mean, why didn’t you tell me when you first learned about it?”

“I told Thomas,” Lewis said, covering his bases.

“And what did he say?”

“He thought about it for a long moment and then said making these guys lose a little sleep might not be the worst thing.”

“For Christ’s sake,” Kennedy pressed her palm against her forehead. “As his handler, don’t you think you should let me in on stuff like this?”

“I’m not sure I understand your concern. I think he’s fine, and Thomas does as well.”

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