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“What about Kennedy?”
“It’s been her inability to control Rapp over the years that created this disaster. She has no say in this matter whatsoever.”
“Yeah? Well, in my experience she has a way of deciding herself what she does and doesn’t have a say in.”
Nassar nodded. “You’re right to be afraid of her, Joel. You live in a lovely city, have a safe job, and you’ll soon be eligible for retirement. I can’t be blamed for trying, though.”
He started to stand but Wilson grabbed his arm.
“Sit down. I didn’t say no.”
“Then you’re considering it?”
“What exactly are you offering?”
“I don’t understand the question.”
“If I help
you, I want my career back.”
It would have been expedient to simply make that promise, but Wilson wasn’t stupid. The delicate balance of believability and fantasy had to be maintained.
“I’m a Saudi bureaucrat, Joel. I can’t guarantee something like that. But I can tell you that the president is anxious to have this matter dealt with before it can cause an international incident. It’s hard to imagine how having his gratitude could hurt your career.”
Wilson stared out the windows at the front of the building, watching widely spaced snowflakes fall in the street. “Bringing him in is going to be a hell of a trick. He’s not going to surrender. And even if he did, can you imagine the shit he has locked up in his head? What are they going to do? Put him on trial? Just let him sit there and spill everything he knows all over the courtroom floor?”
“I agree. Mr. Rapp will strongly resist being taken alive.”
The implication was clear, but, instead of recoiling, Wilson smiled.
“So, are you interested, Joel?”
“Hell yes, I’m interested.”
Men like him were so easily manipulated. So easily blinded. Mitch Rapp and his people were among the few things standing between the survival of the Western world and chaos. Wilson’s indignation was made possible by the freedom that Rapp risked his life to protect.
“Then tell me what our first move should be, Joel.”
“I hear that he built a fancy house outside of D.C. I say we tear it apart and see what turns up.”
“Getting a warrant will be difficult,” Nassar said. “What I’ve told you is all true but probably wouldn’t meet the standards of evidence required by your legal system.”
The FBI man smiled cruelly. “Remember how I said Rapp has enemies? Well, some of them are judges.”
CHAPTER 41
East of Manassas
Virginia
ALL progress had now officially ceased.
It was a situation that normally would have irritated the hell out of Joel Wilson, but tonight it didn’t bother him a bit. The weather was clear and still, with a sky full of stars hovering over the house—compound, really—in front of him.
The gate was a modern copper construction new enough that the green patina was still subtle. The walls were white stucco, rising a little taller than aesthetics demanded. And all of it was perched on the top of a low summit that looked out over the surrounding countryside.
He and his team had passed a barn on the way in, as well as a few home sites in the beginning phases of construction. They were nothing but a distraction, though. This hilltop had one purpose and one purpose only—to provide a location for Mitch Rapp’s castle.
