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“And what would that be?” asked General Campbell.
Rapp looked up at Rielly while he thought about it. She was still staringat him with those emerald green eyes. He knew she was listening to everything he said, but there wasn’t much he could do about it.
Rapp looked away and said, “He’s trying to manipulate the media and sway public opinion. He knows without the president he’s not getting home. Let’s face it—” Rapp paused, feeling somewhat awkward about saying the next part in front of Rielly, but there was really no other way. After clearing his throat, he said, “If you look at the big picture, we all know every one of those hostages is expendable, and if we know it, so does Aziz. If he was to continue an aggressive, hostile position, he would eventually force us to storm the place. There is no way we could just sit by while he killed hostages on national TV. So by going in front of the public this morning and putting on this bullshit peace-loving attitude, he’s taken the wind out of our sails. Baxter won’t let us take action until an effort is made at peace.”
“I agree,” said Kennedy. “In the end, he knows every single one of those hostages is expendable. The president was his trump card, and he didn’t get it.”
General Campbell added, “He’s trying to give the politicians a way out of this mess without firing a shot.”
“Well, that’s not gonna happen as long as I have a say in the matter.”
“Iron Man,” stated Campbell in a firm voice. “I don’t want you doing anything unless you are authorized. The last thing we need right now is you running around half-cocked. Now, Irene and I have to get over to the Pentagon for a meeting, and in the meantime, we want you to stay put. When we get back, we’ll have a better idea of how we shall proceed. Am I understood?”
Rapp looked down at the floor and held his temper in check. He’d already learned his lesson. Don’t ask a question if you’re not going to like the answer.
“Yes, sir,” was Rapp’s simple two-word reply as he placed the handset back in its cradle. Pausing for a second, he looked at the power switch and debated his next move. After about fifteen seconds of indecision he turned off the radio and looked up at Rielly.
Anna Rielly sat passively in the corner with the blanket wrapped tightly around her body. Milt Adams sat in the opposite corner, behind Rapp, and chewed on a granola bar. Rielly continued to stare at Rapp and finally asked, “What was that all about?”
Rapp glanced sideways at her as he began rifling through one of his packs. “Nothing.”
“It sure sounded like something to me,” Rielly said.
“Listen, Anna, you’re a reporter. I can’t exactly let you in on what’s going on.”
Rielly smiled. “Who am I going to tell? What do you think, I’m going to call the station with your radio and give them a live update?”
Rapp grabbed several more granola bars from his pack and held one up for Rielly. “Here, chew on this.” And with a grin, he added, “And stop asking questions.”
Rielly took the bar and while she tore the wrapper off asked, “Who do you work for, Mitch Kruse, the FBI?”
“Ah . . . no. Not exactly.”
“What are you, then—military?”
Rapp ignored the question and continued looking for something in his pack.
Rielly smiled and said, “Hey, listen, you saved my life. I don’t care who you work for.” Rielly continued to watch him.
Rapp stared back for a long moment thinking about what he should say. Finally, he replied, “Anna, if I tell you something off the record, will you promise that you’ll never report it? That is, since I saved your life and all.” Rapp said the last part with a smile.
Rielly took the question seriously. “I’m a reporter. Whatever you tell me in confidence will be kept a secret.”
Chuckling, he said, “My dad always said, ‘Don’t bullshit a bullshitter.’” Rapp studied an abrasion on Rielly’s cheek and a spot of dried blood on her lip.
Changing the subject once again, Rapp pulled a penlight from his assault vest and said, “Now, let’s see how you’re doing this morning.” Holding the light up in front of her face, he said, “I want to check your eyes and see how your pupils dilate.” Rapp held Rielly by her chin and checked the left eye first and then the right. Both dilated properly, and then he asked her to follow the light as he moved it from one side of her face to the other. Again she checked out fine.
Turning the light off, Rapp gently touched the abrasion on her cheek and asked, “How does this feel?”
Rielly frowned and said, “I don’t know. How does it look?”
After studying her face for a second, Rapp nodded. “I’d say considering-what you’ve been through, you look pretty good. Darn good actually.” He meant it.
Rielly smiled slightly. “Well, in that case I feel fine.”
Looking back toward Adams, who was on his second breakfast bar, Rapp asked, “I’d say we have a regular tough girl on our hands.”
“I’d say so,” replied Adams with a nod for emphasis.
