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“You work here at Langley?”
“No, my IQ is too high.” Coleman gave him his best shit-ass grin.
Ross laughed. “I don’t think there are too many people in this town with an IQ as high as Doctor Kennedy’s, but I’ll go along with your explanation for now. You look ex-military to me. What branch?”
“Navy.”
“SEALs?”
“That’s classified.”
Ross hesitated for a second, and Rapp thought he noticed a flash of anger just beneath the surface. Ross quelled it and looked to Kennedy. “Definitely a SEAL. Nowhere else in the military do they breed such contempt for authority.”
Rapp was the only one in the room who laughed. Kennedy never found such banter very funny, and Rapp knew Coleman well enough to know he was having an internal monologue as to the merits of blindly respecting authority versus real leaders who earned respect.
Before Coleman could respond Ross placed his hand on the back of the man he’d come in with and said, “This is Jonathan Gordon, my new deputy. He’s going to be my point man on all coordination between Langley and National Intelligence.”
“Nice to meet you, Jonathan,” replied Kennedy. She took off her glasses and set them on the leather folder in front of her. Her body language revealed nothing.
Gordon was a half head shorter than his boss and looked to be in his early forties. Rapp tried to size him up, but got nothing.
“Again, sorry for interrupting,” said Ross as he clapped his hands together. “I’m trying to get up to speed as quickly as possible. I’ll let you three get back to whatever it was you were discussing. I’m going to go check in on a couple of my old intel buddies, and then I’ll pop back up here in about thirty minutes.” Ross checked his watch. “Will that work for you, Irene?”
“If you give me a few minutes to finish up here, I’ll show you around myself.”
“No, don’t bother,” Ross insisted. “I still remember my way, and besides you’re too valuable to be giving tours.” He started to back away, and in a quieter tone said, “I’ll stop back up in a bit. There’s a few things I’d like to discuss with you.” Ross and Gordon then left the corner office as quickly as they’d arrived.
When the door was closed Rapp turned to Coleman and asked, “Why do you have such a problem with authority?”
Kennedy shook her head. “Mr. Pot, leave Mr. Kettle alone and let’s get back to where we were.”
ROSS, GORDON, AND the two bodyguards approached the bank of elevators. Ross stopped and folded his arms across his chest. He looked back toward Kennedy’s office and appeared fixed on a particular thought. As the elevator doors slid open Ross whispered to Gordon, “I want you to find out everything you can about Mr. Coleman.” Ross stepped into the elevator.
“I’m already on it.” Gordon retrieved a Palm Pilot from his suit and went to work.
Ross stared at the backs of his thick-necked bodyguards and then tilted his head toward Gordon and, still whispering, said, “Rapp makes me nervous enough as it is. I don’t think there’s a person in this town who can control him.”
“Not even the president?”
“Especially not the president. Rapp’s saved the man’s life twice.” Ross held up two fingers to punctuate his point. “You remember Valerie Jones, the president’s chief of staff, stepping down this past summer?”
“Yeah.”
“That was Rapp. He and Jones were like a frickin’ ferret and a snake.…I mean, they hated each other. Rapp gave the president a choice. Me or Jones, and the president chose Rapp.”
Gordon appeared impressed. “I’ve heard the man is very talented at what he does.”
“He is. Don’t get me wrong, he’s the best, but guys like that need to be kept on a short leash. No, strike that. They need to kept in a cage in the basement and the only time you let them out is when there’s a murderer in your house.”
Gordon flexed his knees. “He doesn’t strike me as the type who’s going to let you put him in a cage.”
“There lies the problem, my friend. We have to rein in all these damn agencies, most of whom can’t stand each other, and get them to cooperate. I need them to follow my orders. I need everyone playing off the same sheet of music and looking at me, the conductor. I can’t have Rapp running around banging on his war drums doing whatever the hell he wants.”
The elevator doors opened. “There are people in this town, Jonathan, who would love to see me fail. People who would give a lot to see me embarrassed, and I don’t like to be embarrassed. Rapp makes me nervous, and if you can’t figure out how to put him in a cage, you’d better at least find a way to put a leash on him.”
They exited the elevator and started down the hall. “And find out the bona fides on that smart-ass Coleman. There’s no way he and Rapp are up to anything good.”
12
