The Last Man (21 page)

“And if you don’t know who I am, how is it that you know they are my men?”

Gould shook off her question. “It was a lucky guess.”

“No, it wasn’t,” Kennedy said with absolute confidence. “We both know that you know who I am. What I’m trying to figure out is why you think denying that you know me will somehow help your cause.”

“This is a waste of time. Get Rapp in here. Until you do that, I’m not saying a word. I have done nothing wrong. I’ve helped you guys,” Gould said while poking himself in the chest.

“Maybe we could get your wife on the phone and you could try to explain to her what you were doing in Kabul?”

“Nice try.”

“Claudia and I spoke yesterday.”

“You’re full of shit. You think because you have a name you can scare me into thinking you’ve got something on me.”

Kennedy paused. She wasn’t sure if she admired the way he was sticking to his story or thought him a fool. She would discover her answer in the next few minutes.

Chapter 27

Rapp awoke from another slumber to find a new woman sitting at his bedside. There was a similar feeling of recognition, as if they had a common past, a collection of faint memories that he couldn’t access but nonetheless were there, just beyond his grasp. There was also something different. With Kennedy the sentiment had been one of safety and familiarity, almost as if they were relatives. With this woman there was an emotion that told him their history was very different from that of being siblings.

Rapp tried to come up with her name. She was in her early to mid-thirties, with raven black hair pulled back in a low, loose ponytail. She had beautiful dark almond-shaped eyes set atop high cheekbones and a strong jawline. She was all the more stunning because she wasn’t wearing any makeup. If Rapp was in love with her or lusted for her it was easy to see why.

His memory had been coming back in chunks, and even though he could not place this woman, he was confident that she meant something more to him than just a casual friend. He feigned familiarity, smiled and asked, “How are you?”

Sydney Hayek returned the smile and said, “I’m fine. You’re the one we’re all worried about.”

Rapp played it off like it was no big deal. “I’m a little sore, that’s all.”

“I heard you have some memory issues.”

Rapp didn’t notice an accent. Her diction was flat, like all the TV anchors. She was probably from the Midwest but she looked as if she’d been born in Amman or Beirut. Michigan popped into his head, giving him the first clue to her identity. “That’s what they tell me.”

“Well?” she asked in a non-prodding manner.

“Well, what?”

“How’s your memory?”

Rapp held up his hand and let it wobble back and forth. “It’s a little iffy.”

Hayek gave him a suspicious look. “What’s my name?”

Rapp smiled. “I know you’re from Michigan.”

“That’s correct.”

For reasons that he didn’t know at the time and couldn’t explain later, he reached out and grabbed her hand. “I’m sorry. I feel like you’re important to me. That we’ve shared something that could be important.”

It wasn’t easy to see Hayek blush with her smooth olive skin, but she was. Her lips formed a smile that was one part shock and the other part sheer flattery. “We work with each other.”

“And I get the feeling there’s a little something more to our relationship than just work.”

Hayek cleared her throat and laughed. She had sensed the tension between them but her history of work relationships was so bad that she had ignored it to the best of her ability. That didn’t mean, however, that she wasn’t attracted to him. She was very much so. To the point where she was worried that it had begun to affect her work. She had even allowed her mind to wonder what it would be like. Rapp was such a dynamic force, volatile but in a very predictable way, that he actually scared her at first. The man across from her now, however, was a new version of Rapp, where all of those walls had been stripped away. For a split second she was tempted to tell him that they were in a committed relationship and then she decided against it.

Instead her juvenile streak took over and she said, “We’ve been sleeping with each other for the last six months.”

Rapp’s eyes opened wide. “Really?”

Hayek burst out laughing and, unable to talk because she couldn’t stop laughing, she managed to shake her head. Finally after about ten seconds she said, “No, I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have said that. We’re coworkers . . . you’re my boss.”

Rapp looked bummed out. “That sucks.”

“I’m sorry.” She giggled some more, placed her other hand over Rapp’s, and said, “That wasn’t very nice of me.”

Rapp cracked a smile and asked, “Do you think there’s a chance we might be able to?”

Hayek laughed even harder this time and had to cover her mouth. This was so unlike Rapp, she wished she had taped it to show everyone. No, that would be mean she thought, but it would be fun to show him. “Do they have you on any painkillers?”

Rapp smiled, and his smile gave her the answer to her question. Now it was his turn to clasp her hand in both of his. “Are you sure we never slept together?”

Chapter 28

Kennedy had maneuvered Gould to the exact spot where she wanted him. The intelligence business was many things, but stripped down to its basic elements, it was about people. How they interacted with other people in normal day-to-day activities and how they might change their behavior in a stressful situation. It was easy to lose sight of this and get hung up on all the satellite imagery, signal intercepts, and endless reports from analysts, but it all came back to human interaction. Kennedy was fairly certain Gould was a misogynist. It was observable in the way he treated his wife. For a misogynist it was almost impossible to underestimate a woman.

“So,” she said, “you think you are the only one who keeps secrets?” “Everyone has secrets.”

“Claudia . . . your wife, does she have secrets?”

Kennedy saw a crack in his detached demeanor. The mention of his wife in such a personal way had its desired effect. “In case you’ve forgotten, she was the one who contacted me after you screwed up and killed Mitch’s wife. You see, she knew that she couldn’t bring a baby into this world with that kind of dark cloud hanging over her head. Unlike you, she gets it. She understands that you can’t take innocent life and expect to create life.”

“Save your psychobabble for someone who cares. I can only imagine how many people you’ve killed over the years.”

Some people in Kennedy’s position would try to argue the fine point with Gould and claim that they had killed no one, but Kennedy had never deluded herself that she was uninvolved because someone else pulled the trigger. She understood fully the responsibilities of her job. Kennedy did not want to get sidetracked from the point at hand, but she needed to clear something up first. “You’ll have to excuse me, but I’m not naïve enough to buy your postmodern relativism. I have killed people, more people than you have, but there are several rather distinct differences between us. I have received no fees, bounties, or contract payments for the people I have ordered killed, and I most certainly don’t find some perverse thrill in it, as you do. I kill bad people in an effort to keep innocent people safe. You, on the other hand . . . it doesn’t matter to you if you kill good people or bad people just so long as someone is willing to pay your fee.”

“Please,” Gould scoffed.

“I’m not sure why you think this game is helpful, but we both know the truth. You are not a good man. You are a selfish, narcissist ass who, despite being given a second chance in life, could not walk away from an extremely dangerous profession. A profession that will likely get you, your wife, and your daughter killed.”

“Please stop lecturing me, and go get Mr. Rapp.”

Kennedy was ready to drop the bomb. “Claudia and I have been in contact for the last four years. She usually calls when you’ve left her and Anna to go on one of your trips where you claim you need to see your bankers.” Kennedy caught the change in his eyes and she knew she had him. “I’ve even had you followed a few times.”

Gould shook his head. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“You’re not very good at this.”

“Neither are you.”

“My people were following you when you killed your old business partner Gaspar Navarro, in that park in Spain.” This information should have been enough to get him to fold, but it was obvious he had a rather severe obstinate streak. “You thought he was taking money from you, yes?”

Gould shook his head. “None of this matters. Rapp is the only person I will talk to.”

“That’s not going to happen, Mr. Gould.”

“Why?”

“I already told you . . . I’m fairly certain if I put the two of you in a room together he is going to kill you, and to be honest, I’d like to keep you alive for a little while.”

“Why?”

“Why do you think?”

He shrugged as if he didn’t have the foggiest idea.

“You possess information that I require. Information that you will give me sometime in the next minute or two is my guess.”

Gould laughed in her face. “Oh, are we going to start the CIA’s vaunted enhanced interrogation process now? Please, if you think those techniques will work on me you are a fool.”

“This doesn’t happen very often, but I’m tempted to test you just to see your arrogance stripped away.”

“Torture will not work, and you have yet to convince me why I would want to tell you a thing.”

Kennedy smiled. “Because I hold the key to your future, and I’m actually fond of your wife. I think she’s a good person who fell in love with the wrong man. I wouldn’t want to hold that against her . . . the fact that you’re a serial liar and a murderer, amongst other things.”

“You don’t know a thing about me.”

“You couldn’t be more wrong. Mr. Gould. In fact I think I care more about your wife than you do. You have gotten into bed with some bad people. I think it’s safe to say they wanted you dead yesterday after you completed their work for them. People like that won’t stop until they get what they want. They are running now, trying to tie up all their loose ends to make sure there is nothing left to connect them to you. So while you sit here and refuse to talk, your wife and child are vulnerable. The men who hired you don’t know you’re here.” Kennedy stood. “They will start looking for you, and they will eventually find your wife and child.”

“You don’t really expect me to fall for this, do you?”

“Oh, I do, Mr. Gould, because if I could find them I’m guessing that your employer can as well.”

“You’re bluffing.”

Kennedy spoke each word in a staccato rhythm. “Nelson, New Zealand . . . 4102 Vickerman Street.” She saw the panic in the way his right cheek twitched. At least he cared about them. “Would you like me to describe the house to you?”

The façade melted away at the mention of the city, let alone his address. He shook his head.

“I had Claudia and Anna placed into protective custody last night.” Kennedy turned for the door. “And just so we’re clear on this, I did it because I don’t think they should die because of your greed and stupidity.”

Gould felt the walls closing in around him. He watched Kennedy reach for the buzzer next to the door and he blurted out, “How did you find us?”

Kennedy made a half turn and looked down at Gould. “This is your last chance, Mr. Gould. You either tell me everything I want to know, or I will tell Claudia how you have continued with your little hobby despite promising her you were done. I will tell her about the type of people you’ve been working with and how you have put her and Anna in harm’s way, all for your own selfish gratification. And then you can spend the rest of your life in a cell agonizing over your stupidity and wondering what your daughter looks like with each passing birthday. So what’s it going to be, Mr. Gould, are you ready to talk or do want to continue with these stupid games?”

His head hung in defeat, Gould said, “I’m ready to talk.” “What is my name, and what do I do for a living?”

“You’re Dr. Irene Kennedy. Director of the Central Intelligence Agency.”

Kennedy nodded and pressed the buzzer. It opened a second later to reveal Nash. She told him, “I need a pen and a pad of paper. Mr. Gould is about to give us a good deal of information.”

Nash looked more than a little surprised that his boss had been able to accomplish what he couldn’t, and in only a few minutes. He nodded and turned to get what she’d asked for.

“And you can turn everything back on.” Kennedy let the door close and surveyed the strange man sitting across from her. “You might not understand this but I care about what happens to you.”

Gould looked up at her with disbelieving eyes.

“I know that’s hard for someone like you to believe, but it’s true. Mitch spared your life for reasons that I don’t entirely understand, which leaves me to wonder if there isn’t a bigger reason that none of us understood, and still don’t understand.” Kennedy watched for a sign that the man was capable of feeling either guilt or gratitude. She saw neither, but she wasn’t displeased, for his expression was one of fear, and Kennedy knew from personal experience that fear could be a great motivator. “You have a role to play here, Mr. Gould. I don’t know what it is yet, but I think we’re about to find out.”

Chapter 29

Joel Wilson was used to getting his way. So much so that when people didn’t bow to his whims, he became such an insufferable bastard that his opponents’ only option was to surrender. At least that’s the way it usually worked, but every once in a while Wilson ran up against someone who was more than willing to match him toe to toe in his little game of threats, wild conjecture and pure bluster.

It had started off well enough. Wilson had landed at the Kabul International Airport without alerting the CIA, or anyone from the FBI, for that matter, that he and his team had arrived. He then placed a call to the FBI liaison at the embassy and explained to him that they needed to talk. “No,” Wilson explained to the man, “you are not in any trouble—at least none that I know of, so I suggest you follow my orders to the tee.” Wilson went on to explain that no one, including the ambassador, was to know that he and his people were in the country. The liaison went along with Wilson’s requests and within the hour his team was inside the embassy and ready to descend upon the CIA personnel.