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Rapp hesitated for a moment. “Yes, sir. I thought it was the right thing to do.”
“I concur,” said Thomas Stansfield, “but from now on, let us know what you’re up to. We are receiving clearly on both the visual and the audio. They should be a big help. Now I’ve got something rather immediate that I need you to check on. We have reason to believe that the president might not be as safe as we thought.”
Rapp’s eyes darted from the console of the field radio to Milt Adams. “Please clarify.”
“Aziz may have brought someone along who specializes in breaking into vaults.” There was a pause. “Is that clear enough?”
“I think so. How quickly would you like me to verify this?”
“As quickly as you can without risking exposure.”
Rapp sat on his heels. He thought about the location of the bunker. The third basement. The only way in or out was one staircase. The same one where an unexpected guard had been posted last night.
“Sir, let me discuss this with Milt and see what type of a plan we can put together. I’ll get back to you in five or less.” Rapp set the hard plastic handset down and looked to Adams. “Zip that thing up and get your blueprints out.”
Adams could tell by both Rapp’s expression and tone that something serious had just been discussed. After he finished zipping the monitor up, Adams pulled out his sheaf of blueprints.
Rapp scooted forward on his knees. “Excuse me, Anna.” Rielly was sitting in the corner with her legs stretched out in front of her. As Rapp moved around her, he looked at the blueprints and said, “Show me the entire third level and all ways in or out.”
Adams reached to the bottom of the stack and pulled out the last sheet. Then grabbing it with both hands, he laid it down on top. “This is it. There’s only one stairwell in and out. The one that we used.” Looking up from the blueprint, Adams asked, “Tell me what you’re looking for, and I might be able to help a little more.”
Rielly appeared on her knees at Rapp’s side. She looked down at the blueprint and asked, “What’s that?”
Rapp felt a tinge of anxiety. Another nuisance to deal with. Why couldn’t things be simple for once? Rapp cocked his head to the side and looked at Rielly, who was studying the blueprint in earnest. It was time to take this obstacle off the table. There were going to be too many variables coming down the homestretch, and he needed to keep the process as simple as possible. The more he had to think about, the better the odds were that he’d screw up. And screwing up on this one meant that someone would die. Most probably himself. There was one thing that would free them up a bit. Rapp had thought about it earlier in the day and decided if Rielly would go along with the idea, it would make things easier from a logistical standpoint.
“Anna, we need to talk.”
Rielly looked up at him from the blueprint. “What about?”
“I need to be able to speak freely with Milt, and I can’t do that with you sitting here. So you have to promise me that you will do something when we get out of here.”
“Sure.”
“I am going to need you to sign a national security nondisclosure agreement.”
Rielly moved back a little bit. She was familiar with the document, and the thought of signing such a thing was ludicrous. She was a reporter, for Christ’s sake. She would be bound by law never to discuss the matters outlined in the document, and that most probably meant never being able to tell her story. Her head slowly started to move from side to side.
“I don’t think so. I don’t like the idea of the government holding something like that over my head. I’m a reporter. It wouldn’t be right.”
Rapp got a little angry. It showed in the way his eyes squinted just a millimeter or two. At that moment he looked at Rielly, and all he saw was a beautiful, selfish, self-centered woman. He didn’t have the time or patience for this. “Fine,” he pronounced in a tone that was anything but. “I’ll have to remember that our careers are our number one priority. In fact, I probably should have kept that in mind last night.” Rapp turned away from Rielly and grabbed the radio handset. “Iron Man to control. Over.”
“What was that supposed to mean?” asked Rielly in a wounded voice.
Rapp put his hand up to quiet her and spoke into the handset. “We are going to go investigate right now. This will only be a light recon. I repeat, a light recon. If we meet any resistance, we will abort and try to find another way to verify. Over.” Rapp nodded several times and said, “Correct.”
After placing the handset back in its cradle, Rapp looked at Adams and said, “Come on, Milt. We’ll finish the rest of this conversation in the elevator.” Rapp grabbed his submachine gun and rose to one knee.
Rielly reached out for his arm. “Hold on a minute. What’s with the attitude all of the sudden?”
“The attitude.” Rapp pulled away and stood. “Last night when that piece of shit dragged you up here to rape you, I turned this radio off because I knew that the people running this show would have told me to stay put, that the mission was bigger than just one person.” Rapp stared her straight in the eye and pointed at himself. “What I did last night was not a real big career enhancer, but all I saw out there was a woman who needed help and some piece of shit that deserved to die. Cut and dry, plain and simple.” Rapp turned to Adams. “Let’s go.”
Rielly was shocked by the extreme change in his manner. She attempted to speak, but Rapp cut her off.
“Anna, I’m done talking.” With his submachine gun up and ready, he placed his free hand on the bolt and said, “If I come across any paper and pens, I’ll grab them so you can start working on your tell-all story.” With that parting shot, Rapp slid back the bolt and slipped into the walk-in closet.
35
THEY STEPPED INTO the small elevator without talking. Adams shut the door and pressed the button. Rapp stood rigidly against the wall, his head slowly thumping backward into the wood paneling. He was more pissed than he ought to be, he thought. This was a childish romantic crush, a fleeting hope for something he hadn’t felt in so long. It was stupid. With all of the shit that was going on around him, with all of the high stakes, it was a complete waste of time and energy to allow himself to be distracted for even a second by something so utterly juvenile.
