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"Do you want to tell me about it?"
He shook his head slowly.
"I think you might have to."
"Why?"
"I need to know what she knows."
"Irene, Anna isn't going to say anything."
"I disagree, but my real concern is what Ben Freidman will do when he discovers his men have gone missing."
Rapp thought of the three dead bodies in Donatella's apartment. "Did you get that taken care of?" "I've been told it's no longer a problem." Kennedy studied Rapp for a moment and said, "I'd feel better if Anna was back here in the States."
Rapp thought he would too, but was reluctant to put any pressure on her. She had said some very hurtful things, and although they were spoken in the heat of the moment, they all had a ring of truth to them. In a solemn voice he said, "I can't ask her to come back."
"Why?"
"I don't want to get into it."
"Is there anything I need to know?"
Rapp shook his head.
"What happened between you and Anna?"
"I don't want to talk about it."
Kennedy was reluctant to say what was on her mind, but felt she couldn't let it go. "What were you thinking when you decided to bring her along?"
That I wanted to ask her to marry me. That I wanted to get out of this shitty thankless job before it sucked all normalcy from me. I was thinking all of that and much more, thought Rapp. He couldn't say it to Kennedy, though. He was too proud. It was time to be tough. Anna had let her true feelings be known. He had been a fool to think that she would marry him. Beautiful, smart Anna Rielly. There were guys all over America who would jump at the chance to marry her, guys with normal jobs, good jobs, guys that could offer stability. Guys who would be willing to move to New York when and if the time came. He'd been a fool for even dreaming of marrying her. An utter idiot for thinking that he could have what other people had. Love had clouded his otherwise good judgment, and Rapp had ignored one simple fact. He was a killer, and killers didn't marry women like Anna Rielly.
Embarrassed that his personal life had interfered with his professional life, Rapp was determined to put an end to this line. of discussion and get down to business. "I don't want to talk about Anna."
"Well, I would like to know-" Rapp cut her off. "I said I'm not going to talk about it, Irene. I made some bad decisions. It's over. Let's move on."
Rapp's words gave Kennedy great concern. "When you say it's over, you don't mean it's over between you and Anna?"
"That's exactly what I mean."
Rapp replied with an intensity that told Kennedy it would be unwise to probe further. It was clear that more had happened in Milan than she knew. Kennedy decided that if Rapp wouldn't call Rielly, she would. With Ben Freidman in his current state of mind she didn't think it was wise to simply let Anna roam about Italy. She would make arrangements to bring Anna home and then she would talk to her.
CHAPTER THIRTY.
The Pentagon, Friday morning
General Flood's office was located in the E Ring of the Pentagon on the second floor. He'd arrived at work well before sunup. He didn't usually come in so early, but the Iraqi problem was weighing heavily on his mind. The President had made it very clear that he wanted to keep a tight lid on the recent developments with Iraq. If Saddam got even the slightest whiff that they were on to him the nukes would be moved, and their chances of ever finding them would vanish. This presented one hell of a problem for General Flood and his people. How do you prepare to wage war without telling your own people? In this regard Saddam had done the U. S. military a great service. He had provided them with the best peacetime live-fire training ground the U. S. had ever seen.
Since the end of the Gulf War the U. S. military's Southern Command had kept a very active presence in the region. Most notably they enforced the northern and southern "no fly zones." On a lesser note, the army and Marine Corps regularly conducted exercises in the deserts of Kuwait and Saudi Arabia.
On the clandestine front, the air force and navy conducted almost nonstop photographic and electronic aerial surveillance of Saddam's kingdom. In addition to the military intelligence that was gathered, the National Security Agency and the National Reconnaissance Office probed deep into the heart of Iraq with their billion-dollar satellites orbiting the earth. The Middle Eastern dictatorship had become enemy number one of the U. S. " and with such distinction came great attention.
Back on the ground a full time contingent of Delta Force commandos and Green Berets had been added to the region. They trained regularly with the Special Air Service, Britain 's elite commando unit. The American and British commando units had made a habit of ignoring the Iraqi border and running operations that penetrated hundreds of miles into the Iraqi desert. They did not seek out Iraqi troops, but they had been known to engage them from time to time and the battles were very lopsided.
It was all part of a coordinated strategy, to keep the U. S. troops sharp and the enemy wary. The men manning the Iraqi air defenses were loath to turn on their targeting radar for fear that a patrolling U. S. fighter might slam a missile down their throats. The unlucky Iraqis charged with operating in the deserts of southern Iraq and the mountains of northern Iraq had heard one too many stories about their comrades going out on patrol and never returning. The few survivors who did make it back told stories of being ambushed in the middle of the night by men they never saw or heard. Morale in the Iraqi military wasn't good. But for General Flood it was the opposite. His men were well trained, well equipped and ready to go. The Iraqi theater was one massive ongoing drill. The wealth of information that was collected was constantly fed to air force, navy, Marine Corps and army experts who continually updated their target assessments. The result was that an effective and concise battle plan was never more than twelve hours away.
In essence. Flood did not need to let a half million American troops in on the secret. All he needed to do was tell the Joint Chiefs that the President wanted options. That Saddam had once again pissed off President Hayes. None of this was unusual. Since the Gulf War a single year hadn't passed without some type of military action being leveled against Baghdad 's Bad Man. Flood could tell the Southern Command that he wanted them to put together a comprehensive bombing plan, and he would have a preliminary report on his desk within the hour. The whole force would be ready to strike in a day or less. General Flood wielded a mighty stick.
