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“And just how did you come to possess this information?”
Wilson knew how this was going to sound, but he also knew that sooner rather than later he would have to present a chain of evidence. If there were any inconsistencies the former judge would eat him alive. “The information was provided by an anonymous source.”
“Good God,” Hargrave yelled. “How long have you worked in Counterintelligence? Do you have any idea how many times the Russians alone have tried to turn us against ourselves with this little trick?”
“I am well aware, sir. That’s why I followed up and met with the banker.”
“And you’ve fully vetted this banker? You know for a fact that he’s not a foreign asset?”
“I’m in the process of doing that right now, sir.”
“You don’t think you should have done that first?”
“The abduction of Rickman forced me to move up my timetable.”
“So you thought you should lie to me and then jet off to Afghanistan so you could ambush Rapp. Do you understand that he was almost killed? He’s in ICU . . . he can barely remember his name.”
“How convenient.”
“Do you have any common sense? Do you understand that the CIA is our sister agency? That we are supposed to work together?”
“I thought we were supposed to keep them honest, Sam.”
“When the evidence dictates . . . yes, but that doesn’t mean running off half cocked because of an anonymous tip, and by the way, how did you receive this anonymous tip?”
“I received a package.”
“Where . . . your house or the office?”
“What does it matter?”
“Answer my question.”
“The office.”
“Postmark?”
“Zurich.”
“And let me guess . . . the lab didn’t find any fingerprints, or DNA, or anything that could help us find this anonymous source.”
“That doesn’t prove anything.”
There was a long sigh of frustration and then, “You’re done. Pack up your team. You have precisely two hours and that jet is going to be in the air, and during those two hours you are not to speak to anyone from the CIA. Am I clear?”
“Oh, I’m reading you loud and clear.” Wilson was sick of being kicked around by this old fool. “Are you still recording our conversation, because I want to make sure you get this part. I didn’t tell you any of this because I can’t trust you. Because the entire Counterintelligence Division knows that you’re too close to Director Kennedy, and based on wh
at I’ve experienced the last few days I’m inclined to believe those rumors. So you better get ready for your own board of inquiry.” Wilson spun around and whipped Patterson’s phone against the wall. “Fuck.”
He collapsed on the edge of the bed, his head in his hands, trying to figure out how everything had gotten all twisted around. Hargrave was an idiot. The Clandestine Service was filled with crooks—Rickman, Rapp, and probably dozens of other officers. Senator Ferris had shown him the numbers; almost a billion dollars in cash had passed through the Clandestine Service and into the hands of all of those corrupt warlords, drug dealers, and politicians. The system was rife with corruption and Wilson had the evidence to prove it. There was only one reason why Hargrave would do this, and it was to protect Kennedy.
Wilson had no choice but to return to D.C., but he wasn’t going to do it quietly. Senator Ferris was no slouch. They shared a belief that the CIA had been given too much power and not enough oversight after 9/11. That was going to change. Once the people found out that these crooks were stealing taxpayer dollars, Hargrave, Director Miller, and all the other assholes would get dragged up to Capitol Hill and have to explain how they interfered with his investigation, and then the Senate would clean house. After that, Wilson could write his own ticket and they could all kiss his ass.
CHAPTER 35
KENNEDY caught Rapp’s doctor just as he was about to start his morning rounds. Major Nathan was a thirty-five-year-old neurosurgeon who spent two weeks of every month at Bagram and the other two at Sloan-Kettering in New York. He had a surprisingly affable bedside manner, for a brain surgeon. “Good morning, Major. Do you have a second to chat?”
“I was just heading to see Mr. Cox.” The major smiled. “I don’t suppose that’s his real name?”
