by Vince Flynn
Lonsdale gaveled the hearing to order and spent the next few minutes going over the itinerary. Before allowing the first senator to begin with questions, she asked Director Kennedy if she had any statements that she would like to make.
Normally Kennedy would have passed, but this time she took Lonsdale up on the offer. “I would like to offer my condolences to the committee. I know that some of the people we lost last week were far more than just colleagues. They were dear friends and I’m sorry for your loss.”
“Thank you, Director,” Lonsdale replied, “and on behalf of the committee I would also like to offer our condolences to the CIA and the families who lost loved ones in the attack on the National Counter-terrorism Center.”
“Thank you, Madam Chairman.”
Lonsdale nodded to the ranking member sitting on her right and the questioning began. It started out with more of the same, although the offers of condolences were greatly abbreviated due to the fact that there were no cameras in the room and the transcripts would be sealed for many years to come. Everything was abbreviated, in fact. The senators staked out their turf, but kept things moving. Two members from the minority party and one from the majority voiced their full support of the CIA and didn’t even bother bringing up the issue that was at the core of the hearing—had Mitch Rapp and Mike Nash tortured an American citizen?
When it was Senator Ogden’s turn, the mood changed drastically. This was where the fireworks were going to start. “Director Kennedy, in your opening remarks you stated that you will not stop until those responsible for the attacks are brought to justice. What exactly do you mean by justice?”
Kennedy leaned forward and was about to answer the question but never got the chance, because Ogden cut her off and said, “In the past your version of justice has been to let men like Mr. Rapp and Mr. Nash here track these people down and play the role of judge, jury, and executioner.”
Rapp leaned forward and said, “Madam Senator, you make it sound as if there is something wrong with that.”
As Ogden stared down at Rapp the strain became palpable. Rapp returned Ogden’s harsh glare as if he was daring her to engage him, which was exactly what he wanted. At the best of times Rapp had found it difficult to follow the decorum and procedure of any committee and especially this one, which was famous for being filled with the Senate’s largest egos and biggest blowhards. Considering that he had far more important things to be doing with his time, he really didn’t care if he upset Ogden and her little cabal. The senator from California was the quintessential ivory tower politician. She moved in the elite circles of her party, listening to the trial lawyers, academics, and the nuttiest of the crazy special-interest groups. Rapp had never pretended to understand the intricacies of politics, but he felt pretty confident that on this issue Ogden was out of step with the majority of Californians.
“Mr. Rapp,” Ogden said in an icy tone, “it is no secret that I have never cared for you, or your methods. I am not alone in my belief that you are out of control, and have been for some time. That your unseemly techniques have been the single greatest recruiting tool for our enemy. That you play to our weaker instincts of vengeance and vigilante justice, and that while this may feel good in the short term, in the long term it is destructive beyond calculation. Your use of extreme measures—and by the way, I hate the way you use that euphemism to describe what you do.” She stopped and looked from one end of the dais to the other. “We all know what he does. It’s called torture. When you intentionally dislocate someone’s arm and then wrench that arm behind that person’s back in a way that is specifically designed to cause more pain, it can be described as nothing less than torture.
“While my colleagues may be willing to temporarily forget their oath of office and lose their moral compass, I cannot. You are a black mark, a stain against everything we stand for. You undermine our position on the world stage, and you stand in stark contrast to our national values. Your jackboot tactics and immoral techniques have sullied our reputation beyond repair. The torture that you so wantonly practice is ethically reprehensible and blatantly illegal. It violates our laws. It flies in the face of the international courts and the Geneva Conventions, which we are legally bound to obey and uphold. Your actions have endangered the lives of our service members and inflamed anti-U.S. sentiment around the globe. You have single-handedly eroded our moral authority, and for what? Questionable results, at best. Everyone on this committee who is brave enough to admit it knows that torture doesn’t work. Yet here we all sit, most of you hoping we can just wish away this black mark . . . this stain, ignore the fact that we have in our possession an affidavit submitted by a well-known attorney and signed by a respected doctor that an American citizen was tortured by Mr. Rapp and Mr. Nash in the aftermath of last week’s attacks.”
Rapp waited patiently and respectfully while she built her indictment of him. He ticked off her points one by one and plotted his counterattack. Never in his life would he again have this chance in front of this committee. He stole a quick look from one side of the massive bench all the way around the horn. Seventeen faces, at least half of them scowling at their fellow senator. A few more looked as if they simply wanted to get up and leave, and then there were Ogden’s two lone supporters, the senior senators from Vermont and Illinois, KoolAid drinkers if there ever were. Out-of-touch party loyalists who had built their careers on trashing the CIA every chance they got.
Ogden shook her head as if she were eyeing a disgusting child rapist and said, “I cannot sit here silently like my colleagues. I must express my absolute outrage at you and Mr. Nash and your brutal, unethical tactics. I think you are both monsters. I think you should be run out of federal service. I think you should be investigated, indicted, put on trial, convicted, and sent to the worst prison we can find in the federal system . . . and I hope it is for a very . . . very long time.” She leaned back and glanced to her left and then her right and said, “And I feel that I must express my extreme disappointment in my fellow committee members that they are so willing to turn a blind eye to you and your illegal methods. This is, after all, the Judiciary Committee, where the rule of law is paramount. It is embarrassing that I am the lone voice for justice this morning.”
The room remained silent for a few long beats. Rapp was at the far left of the big witness table. Kennedy was in the middle and Nash on her right. The two lawyers were right behind them. Rapp glanced over at Kennedy and gave her a little nod that said he would be handling this one. He looked to the center of the big bench at Lonsdale and said, “Madam Chairman, if I may, I’d like to respond.”
“By all means.”
Rapp pushed his chair back and stood. He buttoned his charcoal-gray suit coat and stepped around the table.
“Why is the witness standing?” Ogden asked tersely, as she looked sideways at Lonsdale.
Rapp knew this would piss her off. “I stand out of respect, ma’am.”
“It’s ‘Senator,’ “ Ogden snapped. “I’ve worked very hard to get where I am and I would appreciate it if you would use my appropriate title and sit back down.”
“Senator, why must I automatically defer to you, while you have absolutely no problem calling into question my morals, ethics, and motives?”
“I call them into question, Mr. Rapp, because the people of California have seen fit to elect me four times to the United States Senate, and I would be breaking my oath to uphold the Constitution of the United States if I turned a blind eye to your barbaric behavior. Now sit back down.”
“No, thank you. But before I address your points I’d like to ask a fairly simple question. Can you at least acknowledge that Mr. Nash and I have made certain sacrifices? That we have served our country with distinction?”
“Mr. Rapp,” Ogden said, her voice dripping with contempt, “there are millions of federal employees, and I would put you both in the lowest percentile of that group.”
Rapp felt his anger stir a bit. “Senator, I have been shot on three
separate occasions in the service of this country. I received this nice little scar at the ripe old age of twenty-five.” Rapp showed her the left side of his face and craned his neck to show her fellow committee members the white mark that ran nearly four inches along his jawbone. “It was delivered by the man who was behind the terrorist attack on Pan Am flight one-oh-three. One hundred seventy-nine Americans were on that flight. Thirty-five of my classmates from Syracuse University perished, including a young woman whom I had dated since high school and planned on marrying. I have been captured and held prisoner by Hamas for nearly a month. I have been detained and beaten in both Syria and Yemen, and this was all before Abu Ghraib and Guantanamo, so please don’t sit up there and tell me that myself and Mr. Nash have created this problem. These sadistic bastards existed long before we joined the fight, and unfortunately they will be around long after we’ve retired.”
“Mr. Rapp, this is all fine, but I am not in the mood to—”
“Mood!” Rapp yelled with such intensity that a number of the senators eased back in their seats as if to get out of the way of the coming storm. “You call into question my morals and my service, and cast doubt on whether I have sacrificed for this country, and then when I defend myself, you tell me you are not in the mood to hear it?”
“I will not be spoken to in this manner,” Ogden said, trying to regain control.
“Now you want to argue about tone. My insolence offends you,” Rapp said in a mocking voice.
“Barbara,” Ogden said loudly, “this is unacceptable.”
“You’re damn right it is!” Rapp shouted. “Our two worlds collided last week and seven of your fellow senators found out the hard way that you can’t appease these bigoted, sexist freaks, and now you want to sit here and condemn my actions as immoral.”
“Mr. Rapp,” Ogden said with force, “I hardly think it’s a stretch to condemn torture as an immoral act.”
“What about partial-birth abortion?” Rapp asked her.
Ogden frowned as if Rapp had lost his mind. “What are you talking about?”
“You were the one who brought up morals this morning. Not me. You condemned me for dislocating the arm of a terrorist.”
“A suspect,” she shot back, “who happens to be a U.S. citizen and is innocent until proven guilty.”
“Innocent,” Rapp replied. “Let me tell you a little something about this piece of human debris you’re so strenuously defending. He was born in Saudi Arabia and applied for U.S. citizenship for the sole purpose of helping carry out the attacks that killed 185 of our countrymen last week. You explained to the committee only moments ago that I dislocated this person’s arm after the initial three explosions and then failed to mention that while I was in the midst of ‘allegedly’—” Rapp held up his hands and made quotation marks with his fingers to emphasize in a contemptuous way the word “—while I was allegedly trying to separate the terrorist’s arm from his shoulder socket, his fucking friends showed up and gunned down in cold blood eighteen federal employees. And if it wasn’t for the brave actions of Mr. Nash here, we would have lost another hundred and probably the entire building. So while you have so kindly placed us in the lowest percentile of federal employees, you do so at the risk of exposing yourself as a very dangerous person who cares more about her political power base than the security of this country.”
“I do not have to sit here and take this.” Ogden snapped her briefing book shut.
“Tell me, Senator Ogden,” Rapp said as he thought of the note he’d received from Lonsdale, “what do you think is more morally reprehensible . . . dislocating the arm of a terrorist who has intentionally lied on his immigration application so he can become an American citizen and help kill innocent people, or sticking a steel spike into the brain of an eight-and-a-half-month-old fetus and then sucking his brains out.”
“Nice try, Mr. Rapp . . . you are talking about settled law, and in front of this committee that is a big mistake. You are way out of your depth on this issue.”
“Undoubtedly, ma’am, but I don’t want you to get me wrong here. I am not condemning your position. I’ve killed far too many people to begin waving the pro-life banner. I’m merely trying to point out the hypocrisy that you have so perfectly displayed during your twenty-one years in the United States Senate.” Rapp recalled the numbers Lonsdale had provided. “You have a one hundred percent voting record when it comes to a woman’s reproductive rights. On thirty-eight separate occasions you have voted to protect or expand partial-birth abortions as well as provide federal funding for clinics that perform the procedure.”
“The people in this room are well aware of my voting record, and I can assure you that I am not the only senator on this committee who has a hundred percent voting record when it comes to a woman’s right to choose.”
“I wouldn’t know. I don’t follow it that closely, and again I’m not in the business of judging why all of you vote the way you do. I’m the one who has been accused by you, Senator, of being a morally bankrupt barbarian, so I’m just trying to figure out where all your outrage comes from.”
“You honestly don’t understand why I find torture so utterly offensive?”
“You’re an intelligent, civilized woman. I would never expect you to openly condone torture. But I’m confused about your outrage. A little over a year ago a Saudi named Abad bin Baaz emigrates to the United States, takes up residence in Washington, D.C., and begins receiving shipments of explosives and providing intelligence for the very same terrorist cell that last week used those explosives to blow up buildings and kill innocent civilians. I catch him red-handed, and in an effort to try to apprehend the terrorists who are still at large, I allegedly dislocated his shoulder and slapped him around and got him to spill the beans on his little band of thugs, and you find my behavior reprehensible.”
“I think any normal person would,” Ogden answered.
“How about sticking a spike through the top of a baby’s head, piercing the skull, and then sucking the baby’s brains out all because the mother gets a note from two doctors who claim she has depression, or some other mental issue that precludes her from giving birth to a full-term baby?”
“Mr. Rapp, the two issues are completely different, as I said—”
“I know what you said, Senator,” Rapp shouted, “and I’m sick of your manufactured outrage.”
“Mr. Rapp!” the jowly senator from Vermont jumped in, “You will watch your tongue! This is the United States Senate.”
“I’m well aware of where I am, sir. This is where we not only say it’s perfectly okay for a doctor to kill a full-term baby, but we think taxpayers should help pay for it.” Rapp shot daggers at Ogden. “And you call me a barbarian.”
“Mr. Rapp,” Ogden said, “for the last time we are not here to discuss abortion.”
“I’m well aware of that, Senator. We’re here to talk about your moral outrage over what I have allegedly done. And I’m merely trying to point out the hypocrisy that this esteemed body is so famous for.” Rapp walked back to the table.
CHAPTER 51
WHERE the hell did you come up with that?” Nash asked as soon as they were clear of the committee room. Kennedy was still inside having a private word with a few of the senators.
Rapp grinned, thought of Lonsdale’s note, and said, “Just popped into my head.”
“It was brilliant. I mean frickin’ brilliant. I’ve never seen Ogden that frustrated.”
“Yeah, well she opened the door pretty wide for me.”
“I think you actually got her to reconsider.”
“I doubt it.” Rapp shook his head. “She’ll make it about me. She’d rather shoot the messenger than confront her hypocrisy.”
“Well, there were sixteen other senators in there who all seemed to be agreeing with you.”
Rapp laughed. “Maybe fourteen or fifteen at the most. Probably enough to kill this thing before it gets legs, but she’ll leak it to the press and all of her buddies at A
mnesty International and the ACLU. There’s no shortage of attorneys in this town who wouldn’t jump at the chance to try to drag our asses into court.”
They stopped to wait for Kennedy. “Yeah, but at least we’ll get political cover from the committee.”
“Probably, and we’ll have the president on our side.”
Nash waited for a couple of staffers to walk past and then said in a conspiratorial voice, “Wouldn’t it be nice if the president would just slip us a couple of blanket pardons?”
Rapp laughed. Nash the martyr appeared to be on break.
“We could tuck them away in Irene’s safe for a nice rainy day. No one would have to know.”