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“Do you know that she dates Mitch Rapp?”

“If you say so.”

“Come on, Irene. Don’t play these games with me. I need an answer.”

“I’m not playing games with you, Michael. You refused to answer my question.”

“What question?” asked O’Rourke with a frown.

Calmly, Kennedy asked it again. “If someone came to me and asked if I knew your grandfather, how would you want me to answer them?”

“I don’t see what Mitch Rapp has to do with my grandfather.”

Kennedy looked him straight in the eye and replied, “Yes, you do. I know you are fully capable of grasping the principle at hand. It’s a very important one in this line of work, in fact it is our cornerstone. It’s called secrecy.”

“Yeah…yeah…I know. I’ve heard it all before, but this is different. You can trust me.”

“Can I?” asked Kennedy with a raised eyebrow.

“You know you can. You have a gun to my head. If you wanted to, you could end my career tomorrow.”

“Something tells me you wouldn’t mind that, Michael.”

“Yeah, well, you might be right, but you’re still the one holding the gun. Maybe you should put me out of my misery. It’d give me a good excuse to get out of this town.”

“Don’t say that. I have no desire to cause you any harm. We need more people like you on the Hill.”

O’Rourke ignored the compliment, not sure if it was sincere or self-serving. “Here’s my problem, Irene. My wife’s best friend is Anna Rielly. They went to the University of Michigan together. Anna is in head over heels with this Mitch Rapp fellow. My wife tells me they are going to get married. I like the guy. We spend a fair amount of time with them going out to dinner, taking in an occasional ball game, stuff like that. We’ve even been to his house on the bay. I’ve noticed some things about him.” O’Rourke stopped to get a read from Kennedy, but she gave him nothing. “I’d swear the guy has had some military training at some point. You can see it in the way he carries himself, except he’s a little more refined, not…” O’Rourke searched for the right word. “Not as mechanical. I could give you a list a mile long on little stuff that I’ve noticed. Last Saturday, my wife gets an e-mail from this guy. He wants us to do him a favor. Go out to his house and pick up Anna. In the e-mail he assures us that he is all right but that he wants us to take care of Anna until he tells us things have settled down.” O’Rourke paused a little, still unnerved by the next piece of information. “At the end of the note, he wrote, I know all about Seamus, Michael and Scott C. Now, as far as I’m concerned, that entitles me to know just who in the hell this Mitch Rapp is.” O’Rourke sat back and folded his arms across his chest, waiting for a reply.

Kennedy was surprised, but she didn’t show it. Rapp had said nothing about sending Liz O’Rourke an e-mail, but it was obvious by the congressman’s tone that he wasn’t making it up. Even with this new information, Kennedy was not inclined to tell O’Rourke anything about Rapp. As far as she was concerned, Rapp, his identity, and what he had done for the CIA were the Holy Grail of secrets.

“Michael, all I can tell you is that your secret is safe with me.”

“The hell it is,” replied O’Rourke with a bit of an edge to his voice. “How did Mitch Rapp find out about it, then?”

“I can look into that if you’d like.”

“Come on, Irene.” O’Rourke was mad. “You can do better than that, and if you can’t, you’re not going to like my next move.”

“And what would that be?”

“I’ll call my contacts at the FBI, the NSA, and the Pentagon, and I’ll have them do a little digging. I’ll call your deputy director of Admin and have him rattle some cages. Hell, I might even call a very unconventional asset in Israel and ask him to see what he can come up with.”

Kennedy didn’t like the sound of any of this. The last thing she needed right now was to draw an ounce more attention to Rapp and possibly herself. She carefully considered how much to reveal and then said, “The only thing I can tell you about the person in question is that he is extremely good at what he does, and he’s on our side.”

“That’s not good enough.”

“I’m afraid it’s going to have to be.”

“No, it isn’t.” O’Rourke leaned forward. “I want to know how in the hell he knows about Seamus, Scott, and myself.”

Kennedy eyed him coolly, and after a long moment of thoughtful calculation, she told him the truth. “I told him.”

It took Gus Villaume less than two hours to decide on a course of action. Despite Mario’s death, he felt almost himself again. There was a chance that Iron Man was working for the Professor, but Villaume doubted it. The assassin he had seen operate in Paris could not tolerate a man as amateurish as the Professor. No, Villaume had decided, Iron Man wanted the Professor as much or even more than he did.

And what sweet justice it would be to point Iron Man in the direction of that phony, smug double-crosser. If the man was as connected as he liked to claim, he would wet himself when he found out that Iron Man was onto him.

Villaume caught the city bus on New York Avenue and 11th Street near the convention center and found a seat near the back. He counted seven other riders. Rush hour wouldn’t start for another hour. When the bus started moving, Villaume punched in the number. After three rings, a deep voice said hello.

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