“It’s not training,” Hurley said with a scowl. “This is selection, and besides, this is what we do for a living. We deceive people. If these kids don’t understand that, they have no business signing up with us.”

“There is a major difference between deceiving each other and deceiving our enemy. Again, strong relationships are built on trust. We can work on the deception part later.”

“This is bullshit,” Hurley said defensively. “You two come and go as you please, but I’m the guy down here twenty-four-seven playing nursemaid. I don’t pretend to know how to do your jobs … do me a favor and stop trying to pretend you know how to do mine.”

“You are so thin-skinned,” Kennedy said with a tone of open contempt.

“Yeah, well, young lady, this is serious shit. It ain’t amateur hour. We recruit our candidates from the best of the best and that means Special Forces and Spec Ops guys. It doesn’t mean some amateur who doesn’t know the right end of a rifle from his ass or how to navigate his way through the woods in the dead of night or a thousand other things.”

“Are terrorists living in the woods these days?” Kennedy asked, making it clear she was mocking him. “The last time I checked they were urban dwellers, so I’m not so sure knowing how to start a fire with a knife and belt buckle qualifies you to hunt terrorists.”

“Don’t talk to me about training. You have no idea what it takes to turn these guys into killers.”

“Apparently, you don’t either.”

“Well, at least I know how to recruit, which is more than I can say for you.”

“And what exactly is that supposed to mean?”

“It means you didn’t do your job. I did a little reconnaissance of my own the past few days. Do you know where your boy spent the last few months?”

“He was staying at his mother’s house in McLean.”

“Yeah and spending his days hanging out at a dojo in Arlington.”

“And what, pray tell, would be wrong with that? I told him he would need to be in shape, and it would be a good idea to start taking some judo classes.”

“Yeah, well … I spoke to his sensei.”

“You did what?” Kennedy was irked that he had gone behind her back.

“I went in and had a conversation with his sensei. After going a round with him on the mat, I could tell something wasn’t right.”

Kennedy looked to Stansfield for help. “He had no right to do that. It’s my recruit. I have worked almost two years on bringing him in, and I haven’t left a single trail. No one in his life knows that we’re interested in him.”

“And they still don’t,” Hurley said dismissively.

“Really … how in hell did you introduce yourself?”

“I told him I was a trainer from Richmond. Said I went a round with this young kid named Rapp and was very impressed. I wanted to ask his sensei what he thought.”

“And?” Lewis asked, suddenly very interested.

“The kid doesn’t pass the smell test. His sensei says he came in three months ago and claimed he had almost no experience. Within a month and a half he had throttled everybody in the dojo except the sensei.”

“Brazilian jujitsu?” Lewis asked.

“Yeah … how’d you know?”

“I saw him take Victor down today. The style is hard to miss.”

“So he comes in here and almost bests me and then he snaps Victor’s elbow … I’m telling you, the kid isn’t who he says he is.”

Stansfield’s patience was wearing thin. “Be more specific.”

“I’m not sure, but it doesn’t feel right.”

“What … you think he’s a plant … a spy?” Kennedy asked in a mocking tone.

“I’m not sure. I’m just telling you he doesn’t pass the smell test. You can’t get that good that quick.”

Kennedy looked at Stansfield. “Let’s cut to the chase. He doesn’t like him because he’s my recruit.” She sat back and folded her arms across her chest. “He’s a misogynist.”

“I don’t like him because I don’t know who the hell he is. We need to know everything there is to know about these guys before we bring them in. That’s why military experience is a must. That way we know exactly what they’ve been doing for a minimum of four years.”

“And how is that working out for us, Stan?” Kennedy shot back. “We don’t have a single operative in the pipeline, and we’ve been at this for almost two years.”

“I am well aware that I have failed to produce. Painfully fucking aware, but that doesn’t mean I’m going to rush things and have something this important blow up in our faces.”

Lewis, in a neutral tone, asked, “Stan, what is your problem with Rapp?”

He took a while to answer and finally said, “I can’t put my finger on it. It’s more of a feeling. A bad feeling.”

“Do you know what I think it is?” Kennedy asked. “Two things. First … I think you have major control issues. You can’t stand the fact that you weren’t involved in recruiting him. And second … you feel threatened.”

“What?” Hurley’s face was twisted into a mask of confusion.

“He’s you. He’s the man you were forty years ago, and it scares the crap out of you.”

Hurley shook his head dismissively. “That’s bullshit.”

“Really … well I can say the same thing about your gut feeling. It’s bullshit. What, do you think the PLO planted him in a D.C. suburb twenty-three years ago, raised him Catholic and sent him off to Syracuse to play lacrosse? Or do you think it was the KGB before the Soviet Union collapsed and now he’s a rogue deep cover operative? Ridiculous.” Kennedy dismissed the ludicrous idea with a flip of her right hand. “You’re clutching at straws.”

No one moved or spoke for five seconds, while Kennedy’s stinging remarks set in. Lewis finally said, “She has a point.” He pushed back his chair and stood. “I’d like to show you something. I sat down and talked with him before all of you arrived. I think you will find this very interesting.” Lewis approached the surveillance control board and pressed a few buttons. A black-and-white image of Rapp appeared on the screen. He was sitting in the office on the first floor. Lewis’s voice came over the speakers. He was offscreen to the right.

“That was unfortunate, what happened this afternoon.”

Rapp sat still for a few seconds and then nodded.

“Do you feel bad at all about what you did to Victor?”

It took him a long time to answer, and then he said, “We’re all big boys here.”

“So you feel no remorse?”

“I wish it hadn’t happened, but Victor isn’t exactly the nicest guy.”

“I see. Is it possible that you intentionally broke his arm?”

“Intentionally is a strong word. We were sparring and one thing led to another.”

“The thing that led to the other was you snapping his arm before he could tap out.”

“I’m not sure he would have tapped out.”

“You could be kicked out for what happened.”

“Why?”

“Sergeant Smith thinks you intentionally broke Victor’s arm.”

“I don’t see how that would be fair. No one said anything about what holds we could use or not use. We were supposed to stay away from the head and the groin. That was it.”

“If you intentionally broke another recruit’s arm that would be grounds for dismissal.”

Rapp looked at the floor for a long moment and then said, “I don’t like playing all these games.”

“Games?”

“Yeah … games.”

“How do you mean games?”

“You know what I’m talking about.”

“I’m not sure I do.”

“That file on your desk the other day.” Rapp pointed to the clear surface. “The file with my name on it.”

“What about it?”

“You were testing me.”

“Really?”

“Yes,” Rapp said in an easy tone. “I’ve seen the way you monitor what’s going on around here. You study everything.” Rapp gestured at the desk. “You’re not the kind of guy who leaves sensitive files lying around unless there’s a reason. I’m sure this place is wired for video and sound.” Rapp motioned toward the bookshelf and then the overhead light. “When you asked to see me a few days ago and I was left sitting in here by myself for fifteen minutes, you were probably sitting up in the attic or down in the basement watching me. Testing me to see if I would open the file and read what was in it.”