Separation of Power (25 page)

The army officer thought about it again and said, “Yes. I think we probably could.”

Kennedy turned back to the president. “Sir, if we were able to get our hands on one of the weapons, I know our scientists could trace the plutonium back to the reactor where it was created. There is also a good chance we could trace most of the other parts back to their origination.”

Haik saw an even better use for the captured weapon. “And we could hold one hell of a press conference. There would be nowhere for Saddam to run. We’d have caught him red-handed, and the U.N. would have no choice but to be outraged.” Haik looked at General Flood with a grin. “You could bomb all the refineries you wanted as long as you had proof that you stopped Saddam from having an operational nuclear weapon.” Haik looked back to the president. “There isn’t a politician in this town who wouldn’t be behind you, sir.”

O
utside the bar, Rapp and Donatella fell into stride, Rapp on the left, Donatella on the right. It was an old professional habit. Both could shoot, stab or punch with either hand but Rapp favored his left and Donatella her right. They walked south on Via Brera. It was nearing eight o’clock in the evening. The streetlights were on. A quick thunderstorm had coated the ground with a film of water that gleamed beneath the numerous restaurant lights and passing cars. There were other people about, but not many. It looked as if the rain had sent almost everyone indoors.

It was obvious that Donatella had been shaken by his words in the bar. Rapp looked over his shoulder; her attitude and his natural instincts were telling him that all was not well. His pistol with the silencer attached was right where it should be in case he needed to get at it quickly. “If you’re not going to tell me where we’re going, then tell me who hired you.”

Donatella’s pace did not slow. The collar of her stylish black trench coat was turned up and her chin was set firmly in the downward position like a fullback about to steamroll a linebacker. “I don’t think I can answer that question, either.”

Rapp didn’t like the answer. “You can’t or you won’t.”

“What’s the difference?”

“You know what the difference is,” replied Rapp in an obviously irritated tone. “Do you know who hired you, or not?”

She laughed bitterly. “Oh, I know who hired me, but I don’t know who hired him.”

Rapp didn’t say anything for a while and then asked, “Who gave you the target profile?”

She shook her head. “I can’t answer that.”

“Why? Is the person connected to Mossad?”

“Don’t ask me any more questions for a while. I need to think.”

Rapp could manage to maintain his silence for only a few steps. “Where are we going?”

“Back to your hotel. I want to meet your girlfriend.”

Seeing no humor in the comment, he said, “That’s not going to happen. I think you’d better get serious about this, Donny. This problem is not going to go away. This Cameron guy you killed had twenty years with the CIA. Some very important people want to know why he was meddling in an operation and who he was working for.”

“I thought you were going to protect me.”

“I can’t protect you unless you tell me who hired you to make the hit.”

“Then we have a problem, because I don’t think I can tell you.”

Rapp grabbed her by the arm and yanked her to a stop. “Donny, I’m not fucking around. Irene Kennedy knows you killed Cameron. She can prove you were
in the country. She has you on surveillance video leaving Cameron’s office at George Washington University and she knows of at least three other people who you’ve killed by shoving a pick in their ear. She is prepared to take this all the way to the top if need be. I’m over here as a personal courtesy to see if we can keep this thing as quiet as possible.”

Donatella pulled her arm from Rapp’s grip and started walking again. “Thanks for nothing. If you really want to do me a favor you can go back to Washington and tell Irene that I had nothing to do with this.”

Rapp followed a step behind, his temper starting to boil over. “Donny, you’d better get real about this, and you’d better start showing some fucking gratitude. If it wasn’t for me you’d have been snatched off the street and you’d be sitting in a dark basement with psychotropic drugs coursing through your veins and a black bag over your head.”

Donatella turned around and stuck her finger in his face. “Don’t threaten me.”

Rapp slapped her hand out of the way, and leaned in close. “What in the fuck is wrong with you? You know the rules. You’re a goddamn freelancer. You took a rush job and killed somebody who had been meddling in the business of the CIA, and now the CIA wants some answers.”

“Well, they’ll have to get them somewhere else, because I’m not talking.” Donatella turned and walked across the Via Senato.

Rapp stood with his fists clenched at his side and watched her enter the big park known as the Giardini
Pubblici. After a brief moment of indecision he followed. She was headed for her flat and away from the hotel. Rapp jogged across the street and yelled for Donatella to wait for him. She didn’t, and kept going at full speed through the park with her head down. A short while later Rapp caught up to her and tried a different tack.

“Donny, I’m sorry I had to be the bearer of bad news, but I’m here to protect you. Whoever you’re afraid of I can help.”

She gave him a disbelieving sideways glance and kept walking.

“You don’t believe me. You don’t think I can protect you? Donny, give me the name of the person who got you into this and I swear I will make sure nothing happens to you.”

“Just . . . don’t talk for five minutes. That’s all I’m asking for right now. Just don’t say another word until we get to the other side of the park.”

Rapp was about to hit her with another argument but held back. Donatella was a very headstrong woman. She would have to decide for herself that the best thing would be to tell him who had hired her. After taking a deep breath Rapp grabbed her hand and squeezed it. He did not envy the position she was in. Whoever had hired her had neglected to mention who was looking for Peter Cameron.

Holding hands, they continued across the park in silence. The whole time, Rapp tried to think of ways to get Donatella to give him the information he needed. When they finally reached the other side of the park, Rapp said, “Donny, I’ll do whatever it takes
to protect you. I can have you on an Agency plane bound for the U.S. by morning. I’ll give you my personal guarantee that nothing will happen to you.”

She took a second to glance at him, but kept walking. “I can protect myself just fine.”

“I didn’t say you couldn’t, I’m just offering my assistance.”

“If I were to take you up on that offer, I’d have to give all of this up. I love this city. I love Italy. I don’t want to go hide in America.”

Rapp thought about her predicament and decided to make a drastic offer. “Donny, you tell me who you’re afraid of, and I’ll pay them a little visit. One way or another, I’ll make sure they’re never in a position to do you any harm.”

The thought of Mitch Rapp flying to Tel Aviv to threaten Ben Freidman made her laugh. If there was ever a man who would be so bold it would be Rapp.

“You think that’s funny?”

“No, I don’t think any of this is funny. What I do think, is that you need to slow down for a second. I’m not saying I won’t give you what you need, I’m just saying I need a little time to figure out how to do it.”

During the silent walk across the park Donatella had tried to figure out a way to give Rapp the info he needed without telling him that Ben Freidman was her handler. She felt an awesome sense of loyalty to Rapp, and if they were talking about anyone other than Ben Freidman, she’d tell him. But they weren’t. They were talking about the director general of
Mossad. If the CIA were to find out that the head of Mossad was arranging hits in their own backyard they would have an absolute conniption. No, she had to find another way to give Rapp what he wanted. She couldn’t simply give them Ben’s name. He had snatched her from the clutches of heroin addiction and imbued her with a sense of self worth that she would have never found on her own.

Donatella knew Mitch well enough to know that he wouldn’t rest until he found out who had hired Cameron to kill him. Somehow she would have to convince Freidman to tell her who had taken the contract out on Cameron’s life. It was the only way out. She would send Freidman an encrypted e-mail when she got back to her flat and with any luck she’d have an answer by morning.

Donatella was about to speak when Rapp squeezed her hand in three quick successions. Her eyes immediately began sweeping from left to right, looking for trouble. Mitch had seen something and the hand squeezing was their signal that someone was watching them. They were just around the corner from her flat. As Donatella searched for what Rapp had seen she was slightly irritated that she didn’t notice it first.

This was the third time Rapp had noticed the car. The first time was near Donatella’s office earlier in the day, the second was when they’d left the bar and then now. Rapp broke into casual conversation. If anyone was listening to them via a directional microphone he didn’t want to tip them off. “Are you free for lunch tomorrow?”

“I think so.”

“Should we meet at eleven-thirty?” Rapp gave her hand a quick squeeze.

“That sounds fine.” Donatella’s eyes searched the street. Twelve o’clock was straight ahead. Eleven-thirty would be a click to the left. She could barely make out the form of a man slumped behind the steering wheel. The man was parked in the perfect position to keep an eye on her street and the one they were now walking on.

“That photo shoot you were talking about earlier?”

“Yeah.”

“I’ve run into that photographer three times this week.”

“Really,” said Donatella. Mitch had no idea who the photographer was, so she knew he was telling her this was the third time he’d seen the car.

They took a right onto Donatella’s block. Rapp kissed her on the cheek and quietly whispered in her ear, “Are you carrying?”

Donatella smiled at him and said, “Always, darling. How about you?”

“Of course.”

When they reached the stoop in front of Donatella’s flat Rapp placed his hands on her shoulders and mouthed the words,
Who hired you?

“I’ll tell you tomorrow. I have to take care of something first.”

“I’d rather know now.”

“I’m sure you would,” replied Donatella with a playful grin. “Maybe you could come upstairs and coax it out of me.”

She placed her hands firmly on his hips and gave him a lustful smile that sent a jolt of electricity through his groin. Rapp was in the process of trying to ignore her flirtations and figure out who would be watching them when Donatella planted a passionate kiss on his lips. Rapp’s first reaction was to push her away, but caution got the better of him, and he remembered they were being watched.

Donatella’s tongue in his mouth brought back a wave of emotion. It was like a slide show of erotic memories flashing before his eyes in an instant, and then suddenly there was a larger than life image of Anna Rielly. The vision of his future wife had the correct effect and Rapp casually extricated his exlover’s tongue from his mouth.

“Oh, I’m tempted to come up,” Rapp said for the benefit of any listeners, “but I’ve got some things I need to take care of before work tomorrow.” He gave a slight head jerk in the direction of the car they had discovered just moments ago.

“I understand. Maybe tomorrow night I can talk you into staying.” Knowing she had a captive audience, she pulled Rapp close and playfully planted another passionate kiss on his lips. He went along with it for a moment, and then, when he began to push her away she bit down on his lip just hard enough to cause some pain.

Rapp didn’t find it funny at all. He was too busy trying to figure out who was watching them. If they were watching him, if they were watching her, if it was a coincidence, if they’d been sent by the same person who hired Peter Cameron or if Kennedy had
sent some people from the Rome station to keep an eye on him. If the last were the case, there would be hell to pay when Rapp got back to Washington. He didn’t like people looking over his shoulder while he worked. In typical Rapp fashion he decided he would find out what was going on sooner rather than later. Opening his jacket he grabbed his mobile phone and showed it to Donatella. He mouthed the words,
I’ll call you in ten seconds. Don’t go into your apartment.

This time it was Rapp who delivered the kiss. It was quick and his tongue stayed in his mouth. “I had a great time. Have a good night’s sleep, and I’ll call you in the morning.” Rapp turned and walked back in the direction from which they had just come. He only glanced at the car to make sure it was still there. When he got to the corner he took a left and headed away from the car. Instantly he picked up the pace, and took out the small black earpiece for his mobile phone. When he reached the next block he turned right and crossed the street. As soon as he was out of sight of the man watching Donatella’s flat he broke into a sprint. While running he dialed Donatella’s mobile phone number and counted the rings. When Donatella finally answered he was almost to the end of the next block.

“Don’t go into your apartment.”

“Why?”

He could tell by her tone that she was intentionally baiting him. “Don’t argue with me. Just let me check something out first.” Rapp slowed down to make a hard right turn.

“I can take care of myself. Don’t worry.”

Rapp’s breathing started getting heavier. “Just give me a minute.”

“If anyone is dumb enough to be waiting for me in my apartment I feel sorry for them.”

“Okay,” Rapp crossed the next block. He was halfway there. Two more blocks and he would be behind the man sitting in the car. “I’ll make a deal with you. You tell me who hired you, and then you can go into your apartment.”

Donatella laughed at him. “You’re in no position to be making deals.”