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"I'm not so sure, sir." Kennedy spoke carefully. "We have debriefed Donatella and she claims-"

"What do you mean, debriefed? We have her?"

"Yes. She's here in the U. S. Mitch brought her back from Italy. That's where she lives."

What? "The President was beet red with anger.

Rapp thought it was time to weigh in. "Sir, we had a suspicion that Donatella may have been involved in Cameron's death, so I went to Italy to talk to her. While I was visiting her there was an attempt on her life. It would appear that she had outgrown her usefulness to Colonel Freidman."

Hayes stopped pacing and stabbed his index fingers onto the surface of the table. "Irene, does the attempt on Mitch's life in Germany and the assassination of Peter Cameron have anything to do with this crap going on in Baghdad?"

After hesitating, Kennedy replied, "I don't think so, sir, but I'm looking into it."

Now Hayes's face was really red. "Well, what do you say I pick up the phone and call Prime Minister Goldberg?"

Kennedy shook her head. "I don't think that's a good idea, sir."

"Well, I do," snapped Hayes. "I don't like it when our allies are involved in the assassination of Americans." Hayes pointed and added, "Especially when it happens less than a mile from the White House."

Kennedy decided it was time to be more forceful. "Sir, you'll get no disagreement from me. Ben Freidman is going to have to answer some very tough questions, but as of right now I don't think the problem in Baghdad has anything to do with this. Our satellite images tell us that something unusual was built under that hospital. Most likely some type of a hardened bunker. Also, the information on the North Koreans checks out, and we know Saddam has been working toward this goal for some time. As far as the other issue is concerned, Donatella tells us Freidman set this deal up with her when she left Mossad. Freidman takes a third of the contract and everything is run through him. Donatella says the fee on Cameron was a half a million dollars. She claims Israel would never pay that kind of money."

"Then who in the hell did?"

"I don't know, sir." Hayes threw up his arms in frustration. "Great. Do you have any ideas on how to find out?"

"Yes, I do. When the time is right we're going to ask Ben Freidman."

"And you expect him to give us a straight answer?"

"Yes, I do, sir. And I expect quite a bit more from him as well." Hayes eyed her for a second. What she had just said reminded him of Thomas Stansfield. "Would you like to let me in on your plan?"

"No." Kennedy shook her head. "You have enough to worry about with the situation in Baghdad. When the time is right you're going to play a very active roll in getting the truth from Ben Freidman. Trust me."

CHAPTER THIRTY-FOUR.

Fort Bragg, North Carolina, Saturday morning

Early the next morning Rapp boarded a CIA Learjet for the relatively short hop from D. C. down to Fayetteville, North Carolina. In his possession were two large duffels and a garment bag. The duffels contained various weapons and ammunition that he might need for the mission, plus a few necessities. He did not plan on returning to D. C. until the mission was over. In the garment bag was a surprise. It involved something he'd been perfecting for years.

As the plane took off, Rapp looked out the small window and allowed himself to think of Anna one last time. He told himself this really would be it. He would need absolute focus and clarity in everything he did until the nukes were taken out. It was painful to think of her. He wondered where she was. If she was on her way back to America or sitting in the sun on the terrace of the breathtaking villa he'd rented on the Amalfi Coast. He imagined lying beside her, his arm under her head, his hand on her naked hip, their legs intertwined, her gorgeous green eyes staring dreamily at him, her perfect lips turned up in a blissful smile. She looked so happy in his dreams, the way he'd seen her on so many occasions before. Why couldn't it have stayed that way?

His hopes, his dreams for a normal life were in tatters. He'd been a fool for ever thinking he could have that life. He was a killer. Men like him didn't marry someone like Anna. They were oceans apart. She was worried about who he'd slept with before they met, and he was trying to find out who had hired Peter Cameron to kill him. It was almost comical when you took a step back. When he looked at it this way it caused him to think Anna was selfish or at least self-absorbed. She couldn't understand the commitment and sacrifices he'd made, and if she couldn't do that, they had serious problems. Sure, she'd been appreciative that he'd saved her from being raped and probably killed. His secret life with the CIA was fine, just so long as it involved saving her, but in any other light it was horrible and intolerable. And to end it all over something so sophomoric as jealousy was pathetic. Maybe she wasn't the woman for him.

That's how Rapp came to grips with his dashed dreams. Anna had always told him it was fate that he'd intervened that horrible night in the White House. Well, maybe it was fate, and maybe it was fate that things had fallen apart in Milan before he'd asked her to marry him. To a certain degree he really believed in fate, or at least that things happened in life for a reason. If they were truly meant to be together she would be there when he got back.

colonel gray was waiting for Rapp when the plane landed at Pope Air Force Base, which was adjacent to Fort Bragg. He was in his green camouflage fatigues, a beret and black jump boots that were polished to perfection. Despite the late autumn chill he had his sleeves rolled up to the middle of his muscular and tanned forearms. Unlike most of his men Gray kept his hair short, since he didn't go into the field anymore. Delta Force operators were given a special dispensation by the Army on hair regulations. The intent was to allow them to blend in with the general population when they were deployed.

Gray, in his mid forties, was still in peak physical condition. He jogged five miles five days a week and still managed to keep up with the new recruits on the obstacle course. To keep his skills sharp he fired over two hundred rounds a day on Delta's various ranges. Gray believed in leading by example. The man did not have a pretentious bone in his body.

As Rapp stepped from the plane Gray rushed forward to help him with his bags. They stowed Rapp's luggage in the back of the colonels Humvee and jumped in. "Thanks for coming down, Mitch. I really appreciate it. I got a little worried the other day when I heard you were looking at retiring."

Rapp shrugged off the question and not wanting to get into the details of his disastrous love life, he simply said, "I'm getting old, Colonel."

"The hell you are. You old when you get to be my age. You still a young pup." Rapp figured Gray was in his mid forties, still relatively young by any normal standards, but by Special Force's standards he was ancient. "Where are we off to this morning?"

Gray wrestled with the steering wheel on the Humvee like he was a city bus driver. He turned it around a corner and hit the gas. "I want to show you something before I bring you over for the briefing."

A minute later they pulled inside a massive airplane hangar where an equally massive C-141 Starlifter was being loaded with equipment. The colonel shut off the Humvee, and he and Rapp jumped out. Near the rear of the plane were three vehicles sitting under gray tarps. Gray approached the last one and pulled the tarp off. Underneath was a white Mercedes-Benz E-Class sedan.

Source: www.allfreenovel.com
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