"My gut," she said, "tells me a fishing expedition."

"What if we're being set up?"

"By whom?"

"Senator Hartsburg."

Kennedy shook her head. "No. If Hartsburg wanted to fry us he wouldn't go through Ross. I think it's a fishing expedition."

"Why?"

She thought about it for a while and said, "Mark Ross is a good man. He's not out to destroy us, or Coleman for that fact."

"You'll excuse me if I don't share your confidence."

"I think he has a natural distrust for the operations side of the business. He comes from the intel side, and guys like you and Coleman make him nervous."

Rapp frowned. "Why?"

"If I had to guess, I'd say he thinks you're going to embarrass him. He's the new guy in charge, and a lot of people are hoping he falls flat on his face."

"Again, what in the hell does that have to do with me?"

Kennedy sighed. Rapp was very good at his job, but he was a complete neophyte when it came to the politics of Washington. "Thank God much of what you've done is classified. You've had an amazing track record, but one of these times, I fear, you're going to have an operation head south and you're going to land all of us in the middle of a monumental scandal."

"Thanks for the vote of confidence."

She shook her head. "You know you have my confidence."

Rapp nodded. "Well, if you want to win, you have to play the game. We can't just sit on the sidelines and hope they start liking us."

"I agree." She reached out and grabbed a pink message slip from her desk. "I'll figure out a strategy for Ross, in the meantime we'd better put your project on hold."

This was not what Rapp wanted to hear. "For how long?"

"I don't know. Give me at least until the end of the week."

Rapp had no intention of slowing down. He would just have to be a little more careful. "What about the IRS?"

"I'll see what I can do, but once these audits are started things can get tricky."

Rapp leaned forward, placing both elbows on his knees. "I want the IRS off Scott Coleman's back by tomorrow morning, or I am going to make someone's life miserable. Every time we've needed him to handle some shitty job he's been there for us, and he hasn't complained once."

She knew Rapp was serious and she knew better than to argue with him. "I'll do my best." She held up the pink slip of paper. "Onto another subject. I got a call from your old friend Sayyid." Kennedy was referring to Ali Kyer, the head of the Jordanian Intelligence Service.

Rapp immediately wondered what he had done wrong. Sayyid knew how to get hold of him directly. If he was going over his head to Kennedy, there was a good chance he'd pissed someone off. "And how is my old friend?" Rapp asked cautiously.

"He's fine. He sends his regards. He says you are no fun now that you are married." Kennedy's left eyebrow arched in a curious expression. "What is that supposed to mean?"

"It means now that I'm married I'm no fun anymore."

"Lovely. It's good to hear you've settled down. Anyway…Sayyid wanted to pass on a bit of intel. Apparently you're still very popular in Saudi Arabia."

"Good. Are they planning a parade for me?"

"Not quite. The opposite is more like it…a price has been placed on your head."

Rapp leaned back and crossed his legs. "By who?"

"We don't know. Sayyid is looking into it."

"Is that all?"

"For the moment."

Rapp thought about it for a few seconds while Kennedy observed him. This wasn't the first time he'd been on someone's hit list, and he doubted it would be the last. He looked at his watch. "I'd better get over to the CTC for the morning briefing."

Kennedy tilted her head and regarded him. "Doesn't this news worry you?"

Rapp shrugged. "Irene, there's always going to be some crazy fucker out there who wants to kill me. This is nothing new."

Kennedy nodded. "Just promise me you'll be careful."

"I always am," Rapp replied. "I always am."

"And promise me you won't hesitate to ask for security if you notice anything out of the ordinary."

Rapp stood and buttoned his suit coat. "Absolutely." He started for the door and then thought of something else. He stopped and asked, "Irene, would you do me a favor?"

"Of course."

"Would you let the Secret Service know about this? I'd appreciate it if they'd keep an eye on Anna as she's coming and going from the White House."

She was already planning on it. "I'll call Jack Warch right away."

"Thank you." Rapp left the director's office…his mind already jumping ahead…going into tactical mode. He'd feel much better when the new house was finished. The damn thing was going to be more secure than Fort Knox. The crazies could come after him all they wanted once he moved into the place. Unless they brought some heavy explosives, there was no way they were getting in, and if they did, well…he'd have a few surprises waiting for them.

He had made almost no effort to talk her into taking the job, knowing any such attempt had the potential to drive her further away. That night he simply stopped talking and let her begin to sort it out in her mind. They'd made love, forgetting about Mitch Rapp and killing for a while. When they were done, there was no mention of the German or Rapp or anything else, for that matter. They'd simply fallen asleep in each other's arms. The next morning they sat through a pot of coffee and some fresh fruit without a mention of it. They read the paper, smoked a cigarette, and literally didn't say a word. He recognized it for what it was. Claudia was not playing a game with him. She was not waiting for him to make the first move. She was simply thinking it through in a very thorough manner.

That was Claudia Morrell. She was the general, the field marshal, the tactician. Louie was good at the hunt and the kill. He was gifted beyond measure with the instinct to know when to press forward and when to retreat. He had a sense of the overall picture, but his attitude was inevitably one of invincibility. Claudia's strength was in the details. She was better at analyzing the risk whereas Louie thought anything could be overcome with the right amount of skill and determination. She knew when to walk away, while he was sometimes driven by the challenge. A dark, mad part of him had actually hoped the German would ask him to kill the American president. He had no feelings about the president one way or another, it was simply a challenge, a test of his skill, something that would be discussed for hundreds of years and maybe longer. To kill the most protected man in the world and get away with it, that would be the ultimate test. He'd dreamt of it. He was an old man giving a deathbed confession. Giving details that only he would know. Maybe even telling them where he'd hid the rifle. That was the only way to kill a man so heavily protected, that or a bomb, but bombs were clumsy and ended up killing too many innocent people. They were the easy way out, not the way of a talented assassin.

Rapp, however, was an entirely different matter. Despite Claudia's worries, Louie knew he had a huge advantage, and there was nothing cocky about recognizing this. Surprise was on his side. He knew if the roles were reversed he probably wouldn't stand a chance against a man of Rapp's talents and significant resources. Any disadvantage he was dealt by having to operate in Rapp's backyard was negated by the fact that he had gone to high school in Washington while his father had been ambassador. Louie's Americanized English was flawless. Despite Claudia's reservations, he was very optimistic about pulling off this job and simply fading away into early retirement. Well, he was a little less optimistic about the fading away part, but he hadn't shared that with Claudia.