Juarez and McMahon didn’t take their eyes off Brooks. They simply shook their heads.

“Well,” Kennedy said as she withdrew her hand from the coffeepot in front of her, “it appears we have a bit of a problem.” She turned sideways so she was facing Brooks. “I’ve known these two men here for some time. I’ve seen them both in various states of anger, but you, young lady, have somehow managed to really get them riled up.” Kennedy tilted her head and smiled.

Brooks, not knowing how else to react, laughed nervously.

“Why do you think that is?”

Brooks regained her composure. “For starters I would like to apologize. Mitch Rapp ordered me not to discuss this operation with anyone until he cleared me to do so.”

“Really.” Juarez ran his thumb and forefinger down his mustache and then leaned forward. “Would you like to show me the org chart where it says that Mitch Rapp is anywhere in your chain of command?”

“Sir, I…” Brooks struggled for a response.

“There is no such chart!” Juarez snapped. “The director and I outrank Mr. Rapp. We are your bosses. He isn’t, and if you don’t get that through your thick head, you are going to find yourself in a whole shitload of trouble.”

Kennedy looked at Juarez, her eyes telling him to back off. She looked back to Brooks. “Cindy, here is the situation. The FBI has in custody a man who is alleged to have been behind the attack on President-elect Alexander’s motorcade. You delivered that man to Andrews Air Force Base yesterday afternoon. Correct?”

“Correct.”

“Do you believe this man is in fact the person we have been looking for?”

“Yes.”

“Why?”

“Why?” asked Brooks.

“What evidence do you have?”

“I know this isn’t what you want to hear, Director Kennedy, but I gave my word to Mitch that I would not talk about this with anyone until he cleared it.”

Kennedy tried not to take offense. She knew Rapp was the real issue here, not this young rookie. “I understand that Mitch asked you not to talk about what happened on Cyprus, but I’m asking you as the director of the Central Intelligence Agency,” Kennedy put her arms out and looked around the spacious office, “the person who is responsible for this organization, to tell me what happened.”

Brooks looked down and clasped her hands tightly together. She was really in a bind. She couldn’t help but think that even if Rapp did make good on his promise, she would forever be stained by this complete lack of respect. Rapp had told her on the flight home not to worry. Just hang in there for twenty-four to thirty-six hours tops and everything would be fine. She remembered him making her look him in the eye. Those beautiful, yet intimidating, almost black eyes, and he asked her if she trusted him. At the end of it all that was what it came down to. She trusted him.

Brooks looked up at Kennedy and in a very polite voice said, “Director Kennedy, may I ask you one question?”

“Sure,” Kennedy replied after a slight pause.

“Do you trust Mitch?”

At first Kennedy felt blindsided by the question. Almost tricked. But she could tell by the look on Brooks’s face that she was sincere. The debate strategy would have been to throw the question back at Brooks or ask her a different one, but Kennedy didn’t want to. This young operative had just put the discussion into a very interesting light. She smiled at Brooks and said, “Yes, I do. I trust him completely.”

Brooks nodded and brushed an errant strand of blond hair back behind her ear. “Personally, I don’t particularly care for him.”

“Really?”

“He’s not the easiest person to work with.”

“You think so?” Juarez asked sarcastically.

Kennedy ignored him. “Lone wolf.”

“Very much so.”

“I’m afraid a great deal of that is due to his training. When we recruited him, he was very much a team player. Very social. We had to teach him how to operate as an individual…a lone wolf.”

“That’s only part of it. He’s not well.”

“How so?”

“The mere mention of his wife sends him into a tirade. At one point I actually thought he was going to hit me.”

Kennedy searched the young operative’s eyes for a hint of dishonesty or a possible self-aggrandizing agenda, but she didn’t see a sign of either. She was simply giving a dispassionate summary. “He’s been through a lot.”

“Yes, I know, but that doesn’t excuse the fact that he hasn’t been referred for counseling.” Brooks watched Kennedy look away from her and then check her watch. She had hit a nerve. “It is not a criticism of management,” Brooks added quickly. “He’s not ready for help. You’d have to institutionalize him.”

“Commit him to a psychiatric institution?” Kennedy asked with a look of real shock on her face.

“Yes. For his own good.”

“Your graduate degree is in psychology?” Kennedy asked.

“Yes.”

Kennedy glanced over at Juarez who was shaking his head. Turning to Brooks she said, “That was tried once before. Years ago.”

“Before his wife?”

“Years before.”

“How did it go?” Brooks asked.

Kennedy looked to Juarez who said, “He killed the man who had him committed.”

“Killed?” Brooks said with surprise.

“Killed,” Juarez repeated himself. “Snapped his neck with his bare hands.”

Brooks looked at Special Agent McMahon with a mix of shock and horror on her face.

“Don’t look at me.” McMahon put his hands up. “I turned my hearing aid off five minutes ago.”

“Relax,” Juarez said. “It turned out the treasonous bastard had it coming, but that’s a whole other story. One that you’re not cleared for.”

“The point is,” said Kennedy, “You don’t simply commit someone like Mitch. People would get hurt.”

“I think people might get hurt if he doesn’t get help.”

Kennedy considered that possibility for a moment.

“This is bullshit,” Juarez said. “We’re completely off the subject here. This meeting isn’t about Mitch. I’ll deal with him when he comes in. He’s pulled this shit before. Just never quite so brazenly. This is about you,” Juarez leaned forward and pointed at Brooks, “young lady. It’s about you doing your job and telling me and the director here, just what in the hell Mitch is up to. You either do that, or your career is over. It’s that simple.”

Brooks looked to Kennedy. The director looked at her without an expression.

“And by the way your career isn’t simply over. I own your ass right now. You have no rights. You signed them away your first day on the job. If you don’t tell me what I want to know, I’m going to march you down to the basement and have the boys from the Office of Security run you through the ringer. Hot lights and lots of difficult questions all while you’re hooked up to a lie detector.”

Brooks was seriously considering telling them everything when an intercom buzzer sounded from atop Kennedy’s desk.

“Director?”

Kennedy turned toward her desk and in a louder than normal voice asked, “Yes, Sheila.”

“I have Mitch for you on your direct line.”

Kennedy stood quickly. “Did you start a trace?”

“He told me if I tried to trace the call he’d never speak to me again.”

“For god sakes, Sheila! Does anyone work forme anymore? Put a trace on the call.” Kennedy grabbed her handset and pressed line one. “Mitch, we were just talking about you.”

“Only nice things, I’m sure.”

“Of course. Where are you?”

“Across the street from the Hoover Building. I’m thinking about turning myself in.”

“Why in the world would you do that? You haven’t done anything wrong.”

“You didn’t sound so sure of that when we spoke yesterday.”

“I’ve had some time to reconsider. I think it was a mistake to go public with this so quickly.”

“You think so?” Rapp asked, his voice full of sarcasm.

“I’m trying to be magnanimous.”

“Easy with the big words, boss. Remember I’m not Ivy League.”