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The plane floated downward and gently set down on the runway. Ridley woke up on landing and after stretching for a second pulled out his phone and began checking messages. Rapp continued to look out the window as they continued past the big terminal toward the private aviation section, where Langley kept a hangar. As they pulled parallel to the hangar he noticed a couple of police squad cars and another half dozen government sedans. Langley liked to keep as low a profile as possible, so this was not the normal welcoming party for a couple of spooks coming back from Afghanistan. Ridley was too pre-occupied with his messages to notice and Rapp decided not to bother him.
When the plane finally stopped, Rapp grabbed his bag and thanked the crew member and the pilots as he headed out the hatch. There on the tarmac were nine men and one woman. Rapp could tell they were Feds without having to ask. They all had that “uptight, take-themselves-too-seriously” look on their faces.
One of the agents stepped forward with a piece of paper in his hand and said, “Are you Mitch Rapp?”
Rapp considered a smart-ass comment, but decided against it. “Yep.”
“I have an arrest warrant for you. Would you please drop your bag, lay down on the pavement, and place your hands above your head.”
Rapp looked at the man incredulously. “I’ll tell you what. You show me which car you’d like me to ride in, and I’ll mosey on over with you…we’ll toss my bag in the trunk, and I’ll get in the backseat.”
The agent moved his right hand to the hilt of his pistol. “I’m not going to say this again. Drop your bag…”
Before the agent could finish his sentence, Ridley’s head popped out of the plane and he yelled, “What in the hell is going on here?”
The agent’s eyes darted from Ridley to Rapp and then back to Ridley. “Sir, I have an arrest warrant in my possession for this man right here. I’ll need you to step aside.”
Ridley charged down the steps, past Rapp, and to within three feet of the agent. “FBI?” Ridley barked.
The man was half a
head taller than Ridley. He looked down at him and said, “Don’t make me use force.”
“Don’t give me a reason to kick your ass off my property, junior. I’m the deputy director of the Clandestine Service out at Langley and you are standing on my turf. So before you put one of my people under arrest you are going to explain to me just what in the hell is going on.”
The agent took a half a step back and said, “I’m only doing my job, sir. I have been ordered to place that man,” he pointed at Rapp, “under arrest. I wasn’t told why, I was simply told to do it.”
“Who at the Justice Department?”
“Wade Kline.”
“You’ve got to be fucking kidding me. Let me see the arrest warrant.” Ridley stuck out his hand, the agent hesitated, and Ridley said, “You want me to call Director Powel?”
The agent didn’t like the sound of that, so he handed over the warrant.
Ridley unfolded it, gave it a quick read, and handed it back to the agent. “You know who this is?” Ridley pointed his thumb over his shoulder at Rapp.
The agent shook his head.
Ridley stepped in closer and lowered his voice so only the agent could hear him. “He’s a damn American hero, and this,” Ridley snatched the warrant out of the agent’s hand and waved it around, “is a bunch of PC bullshit. Now, I can’t stop you from arresting him, but I’ll tell you right now, Special Agent whatever the fuck your name is, if you make him lay down on this tarmac like some common criminal I will fucking ruin your career. I will call in every favor the bureau owes me to make sure your fucking ass ends up in Yemen searching cargo containers for next three years. So what’s it going to be?”
The agent took a long moment to consider his options and then finally said, “He’s one of your boys?”
“He ain’t my boy. About the only two people he answers to in this town are the director of the CIA and the president, and he doesn’t even answer to them most of the time.”
CHAPTER 37
FLORIDA KEYS
THE sun rose brilliantly, casting its rays across the vast expanse of blue water. All nine men were on deck to witness the glorious power of Allah as another day of their blessed journey began. They’d spent the night lashed together, the two boats gently rolling in the shallow swells. Even with the calm water, though, four of the men had vomited. Hakim took a bit of perverse joy in seeing these land-loving freedom fighters buckle so easily to the gentle motion of the ocean. Even more joy knowing that it bothered his old friend Karim that he had failed to prepare them for this relatively short jaunt.
When they were done praying, rations were handed out and the men were encouraged to drink plenty of water, especially those who had thrown up. Hakim checked their position again and then climbed out onto the long bow of the fast boat. He looked through a pair of binoculars at a speck on the western horizon. They were sixteen nautical miles almost due east from Marathon, Florida. To the north an almost equal distance was the U.S. Coast Guard Station at Islamorada. Farther to the south and the west was the Coast Guard Station at Key West. Both bases were equipped with enough air and surface assets to make this a miserable morning, but it was Key West that he feared most. That was where the command center for the new Helicopter Interdiction Tactical Squadron was located. The farther north they went, the more they could mix in with the pleasure boaters and sport fishermen coming out of Miami and the day trippers crossing back and forth from southern Florida to the Bahamas.
Hakim scanned the surface first and then tilted the binoculars skyward. There were a few contrails from commercial planes flying at higher altitudes, but no sign of any helicopters at the moment. From his past excursions Hakim knew they were most active in the dead of night and then later in the day when the boat traffic picked up. The boats didn’t worry him as much. There were only a few that could keep up with them and they weren’t armed with the bigger guns of the cutters and coastal patrol boats. The problem would be the helicopters. They were faster than his boats, and worse, they could keep an eye on them from a distance and radio for help. If they weren’t careful they could end up with a bunch of police units converging on them when they reached shore.
This had been the most difficult aspect to plan, but Hakim thought he had it figured out. Karim joined him on the bow, and Hakim asked, “Are you nervous?” He asked the question knowing how his friend would answer.
“Only fools and liars say they aren’t.”
