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Cohen had a look of surprised amusement on his face. “Were these injuries inflicted while Agent Rapp was torturing Mr. Deckas?”
“They occurred during the apprehension of the suspect, but I think you’re getting a bit ahead of the story here, Sam.”
“With all due respect, Director Kennedy, I think the torturing of a fellow human in any situation is an outrage. Our courts have repeatedly said the same thing. The torturing of someone whose guilt or innocence has yet to be proved is an utter travesty.”
“If the man was indeed innocent, and he had in fact been tortured, I would agree with you.”
“You have shown us nothing that comes close to proving that this Deckas fellow was the one who attacked the motorcade and I can’t conceive of a scenario where an individual gets shot in both knees and both hands while being arrested.”
Kennedy’s calm neutral demeanor melted into a playful smile. “That’s because you interrupted me, Sam. It appears to be a habit of The New York Times to jump to conclusions before gathering all the facts.”
The smile was what gave Ross reason to pause. It was the same smile one would give during a chess match when an opponent had stepped into your trap. Something was wrong. Her expression was not what he expected from someone who was about to be gang raped by the media. Ross watched as she turned back to the screen and pressed the remote. The photo of Deckas stayed on the screen and was joined by a second, younger photo of him.
“Mr. Deckas is in fact not a Greek citizen. His real name is Gavrilo Gazich, and he is wanted by The Hague for war crimes committed in the former republic of Yugoslavia. Mr. Gazich is a person of Bosnian heritage who is charged with killing over three dozen men, women, and children during the war. Five years ago he moved to Cyprus and set up a fake identity and a company that specialized in bringing aid to the impoverished nations of Africa. Based on information we found at his office and home, we are now looking into the fact that he may have been involved in as many as sixteen assassinations over the past decade. His targets included a United Nations official, relief workers, politicians, warlords, generals, and at least one reporter.”
Garret tore his eyes away from the TV and said, “What the fuck is this?”
Before Ross could answer Kennedy continued. “Mr. Gazich has admitted his role in the attack here in Washington this past October.”
“Was that confession made before or after he’d been shot in both knees?” The voice was that of Sam Cohen of the Times. He stayed in his seat this time.
Kennedy did not bother to look at the screen. She kept her eyes on Cohen while she hit the remote, bringing up two new photos. The screen was filled with two ashen-faced dead men. “While observing Mr. Gazich’s movements on the island of Cyprus, the CIA team watched him kill these two men. We do not know who they are, but we have reason to believe they are Russian. We also think they were sent to kill Mr. Gazich so he would no longer be a liability to whoever it was who hired him to attack President–Elect Alexander’s motorcade.
“Here is a brief excerpt of Gazich’s confession. I can’t play all of it for you because he told us some things that we are still investigating.” Kennedy pressed a button again and a typed transcript appeared on the screen of the audio. A second later, voices could be heard.
“How did you get into the U.S.? Be careful. Take your time to think this one through. You wouldn’t want to lie to me.”
“I flew into New York the day before.”
“Which airport?”
“JFK.”
“The explosives?”
“They were waiting for me.”
“Where?”
“Pennsylvania.”
“The state?”
“Yes, the state. Now give me my shot.”
“Not quite yet. You’re doing a good job, though. So you pick up the van, drive it down to Washington…when, on Friday?”
“No, I told you I arrived in New York on Friday.”
“So you stayed in Pennsylvania on Friday night?”
“Yes…Yes! The van was waiting for me and I drove it down to Washington early on Saturday morning. I found my spot, I parked it, I waited, and then when the time was right I blew it up. End of story.”
Garret stood abruptly. “This is all bullshit…right? I mean she’s making this shit up. Isn’t she?”
Ross had his arms folded across his chest, his fist balled up and under his chin. Without bothering to look at Garret he snapped, “Shut up, so I can hear what she’s saying.”
“Director Kennedy,” it was Cohen again, “was that tape made before or after the suspect had been shot?”
