by Vince Flynn
A lump welled up in Nash’s throat. He tried to fight it, but there was no stemming the tide. The tears began to fall. Nash slowly sank to the floor of the shower. As the water poured down on him his chest heaved and he began to sob uncontrollably. He was not all right.
CHAPTER 76
LONSDALE stood on the terrace of her Capitol office. As she looked to the north she could see the glow of the emergency lights coming from the other side of the Dirksen Senate Office building. The recovery operation there had ended only a few hours ago, roughly thirty hours after the attack. One survivor, an employee of the restaurant, had been found in the basement. Everyone else was dead. Seven United States senators and another nine high-level staffers, including her own chief of staff, Ralph Wassen. Seventy-three had perished in the Monocle attack alone. The death toll for the day stood at 185 killed and another 211 wounded.
Lonsdale took a drag off her cigarette and thought how quickly her entire life had been turned upside down. A little less than a day and a half ago she’d been sitting in her other office too embarrassed to make a lunch date with a reporter. She was devastated over the loss of Wassen. He was her oldest friend and closest confidant. The fact that she had asked him to go in her place only added guilt to the grief. How had she ever been so blind to the threat? She had asked herself the question a hundred times in just a day.
At the moment the press did not concern her, although she knew they would come after her soon enough. With five years left in her term, she wasn’t so sure she’d seek reelection. She knew what she must do, though. It had come to her during her sleepless night while she tossed and turned with self-recrimination. Words kept coming at her like big, bold headlines at the top of a newspaper: Naïve, Self-Righteous, Foolish, Idiotic, Irrational, Sanctimonious. The list went on and on. She had been so convinced that she was right that she had fallen prey to one of Washington’s oldest games. Rather than taking a hard, serious look at the issue, she gravitated toward a position that would give her the most political clout. And then in an effort to further delude herself, she had assigned ignoble characteristics to her enemies—Kennedy, Rapp, Nash, and many others. She had convinced herself that they were the real threat.
Now, with the echo of the blasts still reverberating around the world, the charade was over. Two choices lay before her, and although Wassen was not here to consult, she knew what his advice would be. She looked at the Supreme Court, and felt a stab of regret. Of all the buildings on Capitol Hill, the court perhaps meant the most to her. Her decision would not be without some discomfort.
“Senator Lonsdale,” the voice of a staffer called from the doorway. “Your visitors are here.”
Lonsdale stabbed her cigarette out and turned. She waved for the staffer to bring them out. “You can leave now, Stephanie. I’ll lock up.” Lonsdale watched her aide leave and the two men step onto the terrace. She did not expect this to be easy, but it was something that had to be done.
The two stone-faced men approached and stopped eight feet short of Lonsdale. Rapp looked at her and said, “You wanted to see us, Senator?”
“Yes,” Lonsdale said a bit anxiously. “I hear you have some leads.”
Rapp and Nash nodded but neither verbally confirmed the comment.
“The president told me you think three of the terrorists are still at large.”
“That’s right,” Rapp said.
“And you think you’ll catch them?”
Rapp shrugged. “That all depends, ma’am?”
“On what?”
“Our rules of engagement,” Nash said, cutting straight to the heart of the matter.
Lonsdale nodded and reached for another cigarette. “This isn’t easy for me, gentlemen,” she said as she flicked her lighter and took in a draw, “but I have to say this. I’m sorry. I’m sorry for the way I’ve acted, I’m sorry for the way I have called your characters into question, and I’m sorry that my interference in your investigation may have hindered your ability to prevent this attack.”
Rapp and Nash exchanged a surprised look. They thought Lonsdale wanted to see them so she could explain her momentary lapse of composure when she’d slapped Aabad yesterday afternoon. Rapp nodded his acceptance and said, “Thank you, and I’m sorry about your chief of staff, Ralph Wassen. I didn’t know him, but he seemed like a very nice man.”
“He was the best.” Lonsdale folded her arms across her chest and her eyes became unfocused in thought. After a moment she said, “He thought very highly of you two.”
“Us?” Nash said with surprise.
“Yes,” Lonsdale said. “He thought you two were on the right side of the issue.”
“I wasn’t aware there was a wrong side,” Nash asked with a tinge of anger in his voice.
Ignoring Nash, Rapp asked, “And he thought you were on the wrong side?”
Lonsdale nodded and then was quiet for a long moment. She looked at the two of them and asked, “Would either of you like a cigarette?”
“No, thanks,” Rapp replied.
Nash shook his head.
“In addition to apologizing to you, I wanted you to come here tonight so I could offer you certain assurances. I already spoke with the president and Director Kennedy about this. As I’m sure you’re aware, Senator Whaley was killed yesterday. That means the Intelligence Committee needs a new chairman. I want it.”
“Excuse me?” Rapp said, not certain he had heard her right.
“I’m going to give up the Judiciary Committee in exchange for the Intel Committee, if they’ll have me.”
Rapp and Nash were shocked. There wasn’t a senator they could think of that wouldn’t kill to join the Judiciary Committee. “Why would you do that?” Nash asked.
“Call it penance.” Lonsdale half smiled. She saw the look of concern on their faces, so she quickly added, “Don’t worry. I’ve seen the light. As I already said, I was wrong.”
Rapp shifted his weight from one foot to the other as he stared at Lonsdale. “You’ve seen the light?”
“Yes.”
“May I ask about the extent of your conversion?” Rapp inquired.
Lonsdale took a few seconds to consider and then said, “I want you to hunt this Karim and these other two men down, and anyone else who helped him, for that matter, and I want you to kill them.”
“Kill them?” Nash said, not quite believing his ears.
“That’s right. I don’t want to know how you do it…just do it.”
“Kill them.” Nash said again.
“Yes.”
“You don’t mean bring them to trial?”
Lonsdale looked directly at Nash and said, “I mean, kill them. I think we would all be better off if you saved us from a circus trial.”
“And your colleagues?” Rapp asked.
“I have spoken to a handful of the ones who matter. The really important ones are on the Intel Committee. I will make sure you have all the money you need. Anything you ask for, I’ll get it.”
“Senator, you’ll have to excuse me,” Rapp said in his wry tone. “I’ve been doing this for a number of years. If I’ve learned anything, it’s that as the political winds shift in this town, people tend to lose their appetite for stuff like this.”
Lonsdale gave him a curt nod. “Director Kennedy told me to expect this from you. So…as much as I might someday regret this, I have prepared a letter.” Lonsdale slipped her hand into her jacket and retrieved an off-white envelope. She handed it to Rapp and said, “Please put that in a safe place and show it to no one other than Mr. Nash and Director Kennedy.”
Rapp held it in his hands and asked, “What does it say?”
“In short…it says that I offer you and Mr. Nash my full support to use whatever means you deem necessary to hunt down and kill this Karim fellow and his associates. Legally speaking, it offers you no protection.”
Rapp held it up and said, “But it assures your support.”
“And demise, should I fail to protect you from my more po
litically motivated colleagues. I am offering you cover, gentlemen. I am promising that I will do everything in my power to aid you in bringing these men to justice. And should you fail…I will still protect you.”
Rapp looked at Nash and the two men shared a confident nod. Turning back to Senator Lonsdale, Rapp said, “Senator, we will not fail.”
About the Author
Vince Flynn is the #1 New York Times bestselling author of thirteen previous thrillers, including most recently Kill Shot and American Assassin. He lives in the Twin Cities with his wife and three children.
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