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The bartender showed up with the beer. “Put it on his tab,” Rapp said as he reached for his wallet. “Just kidding.” Rapp threw a twenty on the bar. “Take it out of that, and get the senator another one.”
Hartsburg nodded his consent and the bartender left. After looking at his book for a moment he asked, “What’s so important?”
Rapp took a sip of his dark beer and asked, “Have you told anyone about our new arrangement?”
“Are you out of your mind?”
“You’re sure?” Rapp took another sip. He doubted that Hartsburg had, but he wanted to get the man on his heels.
The crotchety senator from New Jersey turned and faced Rapp. “I don’t like repeating myself.”
Rapp watched him intently. “What about Senator Walsh?”
Hartsburg’s face twisted like he’d just bit into a lemon. “No. Bill’s a vault. He keeps secrets better than anyone on the Hill. That’s why he’s chairman of the Intelligence Committee.”
“Neither of you consulted anyone further up the chain of command?”
“Whose chain of command?”
“Mine,” said Rapp.
“Dr. Kennedy, of course.”
“No one else?” asked Rapp. The bartender came back with Hartsburg’s drink. From the color of it, Rapp guessed it was probably scotch.
Hartsburg, like most senators, was a lawyer by training and he did not like to be on the receiving end of questions. “Stop pussyfooting around, and tell me what’s on your damn mind.”
Rapp admired the man’s tenacity. “Mark Ross is on my mind.”
“The new director of National Intelligence.” The senator had a frown on his face. “Why?”
“He’s taken a sudden interest in a colleague of mine.”
“I’m not following.”
“There’s someone who we use from time to time to handle delicate matters. We’ll call him a consultant. The other day this consultant came out to Langley to sit down with Dr. Kennedy and myself so we could discuss our new venture.” Rapp pointed to Hartsburg and then himself. He wanted the senator to take ownership. “Right in the middle of the damn meeting Mark Ross comes barging in unannounced. He introduces himself to the consultant, he leaves, and the next thing you know, Ross’s people are calling up the Pentagon asking for this consultant’s personnel file. Then the next day the IRS shows up on this guy’s doorstep, bends him over, and starts to give him an anal cavity search.”
A pleased smile formed on Hartsburg’s face and he got a faraway look in his eyes. After a moment he said, “That’s why I put him there.”
The answer surprised Rapp. “What in the hell is that supposed to mean?”
“Ross is a detail guy. He’s extremely controlling and curious. That’s why I pushed him on the president.”
Rapp was missing something. “And why is this good…”
“The whole idea behind creating the new cabinet position of director of National Intelligence is to consolidate all of these far-flung agencies. We need someone who will get into the minutiae and reform from the top down.”
Rapp shook his head and set his beer down. “Listen, for the most part, I could give a rat’s ass what this guy does. Just keep him away from me, and the people I deal with.”
“I don’t see how I can help you here.”
A disbelieving expression formed on Rapp’s face. “The whole reason why I agreed to sit down with you and Walsh was that you guys were willing to offer me some serious funding, and that you’d keep people off my back. I’ve got enough enemies out there without having to worry about people who are supposed to be on my own team. If you can’t rein in a clown like Ross, we might as well end this right here and now.”
Hartsburg was smiling. He waved to the bartender. “Charlie, another beer for my friend.”
My friend, Rapp thought. I wouldn’t go that far.
Hartsburg made Rapp retell, in detail, what had happened when Ross popped into Kennedy’s office unannounced. By the time Rapp’s second beer arrived he’d told the senator the entire story.
