AllFreeNovel
Share Us
I imagine you’re one of the few people who can understand.”
“Indeed,” he said sympathetically and then motioned toward a group of couches set up in front of one of three stone fireplaces. The office was an opulent affair entirely at odds with the modern architecture of the building. At least four times the size of her own, its walls were covered in rich wood paneling. Numerous bookcases were arranged with photos and other memorabilia, but few actual volumes.
“Tea?”
“Yes, thank you.”
Kennedy examined Taj as he poured. The man was a stark contrast to the imposing surroundings, which she knew to be the work of his predecessor. At the Pakistani president’s urging, Parliament had chosen the ISI’s new director not for his ruthlessness or cunning but for his spectacular mediocrity.
Taj’s gift for military supply logistics, as well as his ability to navigate the egos and agendas of his superiors, had allowed him to rise to the rank of air force general. When compared to even his own young assistant, though, Taj came up wanting. His suit was of average quality, he stood barely five six, and his stomach seemed to expand a little more every time she saw him. He had never been an athlete, and his grades had been good, but far from spectacular. Most notable, though, was the fact that whereas Gadai met her eye and spoke in a clear, confident tone, Taj had a tendency to mumble and look at the floor.
At first, she had been surprised when he’d been named and thought that it was perhaps meant as a tacit apology for the Osama bin Laden fiasco. What she’d come to learn, though, was that Taj possessed the one quality that the country’s president needed. He was controllable.
Whether this was a good thing or not was, like everything related to Pakistan, a complicated matter. The ISI was heavily factioned. It wasn’t unusual for one branch to be hunting a particular terrorist group while another funded it. That incohesiveness weakened the organization and benefited the civilian government, but it also contributed to the dangerous chaos Pakistan was descending into.
Mitch Rapp summed up the ISI situation as a simple question of whether organized crime or disorganized crime was preferable. In his words, would she rather deal with the mafia or a bunch of shiv-wielding junkies?
“I’m glad you agreed to come,” Taj said as he finished pouring and took a seat across from her. “I think a face-to-face meeting is better to put this matter behind us.”
“So do I.”
She picked up her cup and took a sip, making it clear that she wasn’t inclined to offer more.
“In our last meeting you made a number of accusations.”
“?‘Accusations’ seems like a strong word, Ahmed. I would say ‘concerns.’?”
His dull eyes fell to the coffee table. “Concerns, then. I’m afraid they were largely justified.”
“Indeed?” she said, keeping her expression passive.
“Yes. I’ve been authorized to tell you everything we’ve been able to determine about your man Joseph Rickman.”
She didn’t respond, letting the silence draw out between them until he felt compelled to start speaking again.
“He did not die in the video released on the Internet.”
She let the surprise read on her face, despite knowing that Rickman had met his end like so many before him: at the hands of Mitch Rapp. “I’m sorry, I don’t understand.”
“He was, in fact, transported to Pakistan. Specifically, to Akhtar Durrani’s private compound.”
“The deputy director of your external wing? To what end?”
“His death video was a ruse to ensure that both you and I would stop looking for him. He was transported to General Durrani’s home and held there to give Akhtar time to extract everything Rickman knew about the CIA’s operations.”
“And you’re telling me you had no knowledge of this?” Kennedy said, making it a point to allow a bit of skepticism to creep into her voice.
“None,” Taj said emphatically. “It seems likely that Durrani wanted to use this information to inflate his own power and unseat me as director.”
Of course that is how he would see it. In truth, Durrani had been a thug. Not a stupid man per se, but hardly clever enough to be behind this scheme. No, Rickman had been in charge the entire time. He would have allowed Durrani the illusion of control while he used the man and his organization to carry out his plan of gutting the CIA’s worldwide operations.
“Can I assume you’ll be turning Rickman over to me immediately?”
Taj’s dark skin took on a pallor. “I’m sorry to inform you that he’s dead.”
“As is Durrani,” Kennedy said. “The press release I read said a heart attack.”
“In fact, both appear to have been shot by Durrani’s man Vazir Kassar, who gained access to his compound with an unknown accomplice. Of course, we’ll turn Rickman’s body over to your embassy as soon as we can make arrangements.”
