Memorial Day mr-5
Page 41
"Then you'd better convince the president to make some changes. I don't want a medal, I don't want any public recognition...I want some people fired. Remember when we used to fire people, or better yet, remember when people used to resign? Well, I don't care if they leave on their own, or if they're shown the door, but some people need to go."
Kennedy didn't answer right away. After a long pause she said, "Would it help if I told you Valerie Jones will be stepping down within the month?"
"I'd say it's a nice start. What about Stokes and Stealey?"
"I'm not sure about Stokes, but I don't think he's the problem. If we tell him to crack down, he'll do it."
"Then what about Stealey? She's the idiot who convinced the president to lock those two guys from Atlanta up in a jail, when they should have been stuffed in some hole."
"I think between the two of us we can make that happen. Will that help?"
"Again...it's a nice start."
"So, I'll see you at work soon?"
Rapp looked out across the serene lake. The ski boat was headed back in his direction. They were still several hundred yards away, but he could tell it was his wife who was flying across the wake. She was practically lying down on each cut, throwing up a wall of water.
"Mitch," said Kennedy, "this thing is far from over. You know they're going to come at us again."
Rapp knew better than anyone that the Islamic radical fundamentalists were not about to pack up and quit. He let out a tired sigh and closed his eyes. "Irene, I'm tired, and I'm sick of butting heads with people who are supposed to be on our side."
"Believe me, I understand. I've already spoken to the president about this, and he knows that he hasn't listened to us enough. The enormity of what almost happened has shaken him to the core." Kennedy's voice had taken on a surprisingly optimistic tone. "Mitch, if there was ever a time to get him to declare open season on terrorists-this is it."
"But will he? When it comes down to it, will he actually turn us loose?"
"This time...yes, I think so."
Rapp looked out across the water and sincerely wondered if he could walk away from it all. He doubted it. He was too passionate about the fight. He didn't need to admit that to Kennedy and the president, though. He would push for everything he could get.
"Irene, I want carte blanche. Tell the president I'm going to hunt down every last son of a bitch who had a hand in this attack, and I don't want anyone from the White House or the Justice Department looking over my shoulder."
"I think there's a very real chance he would welcome that strategy."
"Good...then I'll be in sometime this week." Rapp ended the call, his mind already a thousand miles away, coming up with a plan of attack. A mental list was forming of who and what to hit first. Soon the religious zealots would regroup and come at them again. The outcome of this war, Mitch knew, was far from certain. There was no walking away from this fight. No sidestepping it. There was only one way to wage it-head-on and with brutal and overwhelming force.
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