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It was no small comfort to him that his front line troops were ready to commence such a large operation on such short notice. It gave him the peace of mind to tackle a far more complicated problem, the problem of trying to steal three nuclear weapons out from under Saddam's nose.
His intercom buzzed and one of his four administrative assistants announced that his visitors had arrived. Flood said to show them in. He stood and as he buttoned his green jacket, he looked down at the shelf of brightly colored ribbons on his barrel chest. He remembered in detail how each one had been obtained. Many of them were B.S. Given to him for things that he thought had little to do with soldiering, but there were a few that he was very proud of.
A strange thought occurred to the general. How many ribbons and medals would Mitch Rapp have been awarded if he'd been in the army instead of the CIA? Flood had seen some great soldiers in action over the years, and there was no doubt in his mind that Mitch Rapp was one of them. Maybe the best. Flood desperately wanted to believe in Rapp's abilities. He'd told no one of his dreams lately, but they horrified the old soldier. He had been visited in his sleep by the specter of nuclear battle. On a nightly basis he found himself looking out over a charred battlefield. The golden soft sand of the desert was burnt and black. The bodies of his soldiers were strewn about, thousands of them, charred from the heat wave of a nuclear detonation.
General Flood had never met Saddam face-to-face. He'd never even talked to the man, but he'd studied him and felt he knew him well. Or at least he knew his type. The pages of history books were sprinkled with megalomaniacs just like him. It seemed that every century could count a half dozen as their own.
Flood was willing to risk his entire career to make sure Saddam never got the chance to use those weapons. This would be the biggest gamble he'd ever taken. Sending a dozen Delta Force commandos into the heart of Baghdad, during the middle of an air strike, to steal three nuclear warheads was pushing the odds a bit. If the mission failed the critics would stone him from the bleachers and then they would go after the President. At a bare minimum he wanted Rapp leading the way. The man with the Midas touch. He had a way of succeeding where others failed.
Irene Kennedy entered the room first. Her small stature was perfect for her profession. She was not the first person noticed in a crowd. Mitch Rapp, on the other hand, was a different matter. In his black leather jacket and two-day-old beard, he stood out like a sore thumb. Fortunately, General Flood's staff practiced discretion with his visitors, especially when they arrived before 7:00 a. m. and were in the company of the director designate of the CIA.
Flood met them midway across his large office. "Good morning, Irene."
"Good morning, General."
Flood reached out for Rapp's hand. "Thanks for coming in to see me, Mitch."
"Not a problem, sir." Rapp liked Flood, so he lied. There were other things that he would rather be attending to, but he would hear the man out.
"Please, sit." Flood motioned to an arrangement of two couches and several chairs on his right. There was a small table in the middle. On top was a basket of muffins, a coffee pot, sugar and cream and several cups, as well as side plates. "I figured you'd be hungry, Mitch. Help yourself to whatever you want." Flood leaned forward and poured a cup of coffee. "Irene?"
"Please." Kennedy took the cup, but passed on the muffins. "Thank you."
Rapp poured himself a cup and took a muffin. "Irene tells me you have a little bit of a problem."
"I'd say so. How many times have you been in Baghdad?"
"Before the war I spent a lot of time there, but since the war I've only b
een back three times."
The general looked at Kennedy. "How much does he know?" "Unfortunately, I didn't have time to brief him. We had some other things that we needed to discuss."
Flood didn't bother to ask what, but he was a little surprised that they could have something else cooking that would take priority over his current problem. "Mitch, you're about to become part of a very select group. The Joint Chiefs don't even know what I'm about to tell you. The President has asked us to keep an extremely tight lid on this."
"Understood."
"A week ago one of our allies came to us with some pretty damning intelligence that Saddam is about to go operative with three nuclear weapons." Flood stopped so Rapp would have a chance to absorb the seriousness of the problem. To his surprise Rapp smiled.
"I knew it." "Knew what?" asked Flood. "Don't tell me you already knew."
"No. I just knew sooner or later it would come to this. That's why I disagreed when we stopped back in 1991. We should have gone all the way to Baghdad and ousted the nut bag."
"You don't need to tell me. I was over there with my Rangers preparing a nighttime assault on several bridges when the truce was announced. We could have been in Baghdad in two days, but the man who previously occupied this office, in his infinite wisdom, convinced President Bush to stop. Thanks to him I am now confronted with a much bigger problem than the invasion and occupation of Kuwait."
"How much time do we have?" asked Rapp.
Flood looked to Kennedy. She turned to Rapp and said, "This information was provided by the Israelis. We have a little more than a week to take the bombs out, or they will do it themselves."
In light of his recent trip to Italy, Israel was not at the top of his favorite country list. Rapp was tempted to say, let them, but kept his mouth shut. When he and Kennedy were alone he would probe deeper in regard to the veracity of the intelligence provided by Israel. "I assume we know where the bombs are?"
"Yes." Flood got up and went over to his desk. He came back with a file containing aerial photographs of the target. "We don't have anybody on the inside, but we've been told they are located here." Flood pointed to a building circled in red. "That's the Al Hussein Hospital."
Kennedy added, "About a year ago they built a hardened bunker under the hospital."
Rapp looked up. "Saddam figured we'd never find it, and if we did, we wouldn't have the balls to bomb it."
"Exactly," Kennedy answered.
