The Third Option (31 page)

President Hayes studied Thomas Stansfield from across the smooth conference table of the White House Situation Room. The director of the Central Intelligence Agency was literally a shadow of his former self. He was rail thin, his face completely emaciated from the ravages of cancer. Neither of them had called this meeting. Someone else had. Someone who shared their secrets. Someone who sounded very concerned. While they waited for him to arrive, Stansfield took the opportunity to discuss a few things with the president. It was seven in the evening on Thursday, and it had been a very long day for the director. Since finding out that Peter Cameron was dead, Stansfield had struggled to find a link beyond the deceased man to the person or people who had employed him. Stansfield filled the president in on what had happened earlier in the day. He told him that Kennedy, Rapp, and several others were working feverishly to find out who the power was behind Cameron.

Stansfield had his enemies, certainly not the ones in Washington, but he had them. The ones he knew he did not fear. It was the ones he did not know who worried him. They all, though, had one thing in common. They wanted to succeed, and not just in small ways but by obtaining real power, the type of power wielded by the elite of Washington. For politicians, it meant chairing one of die more powerful committees or being the next secretary of state or defense, or even the presidency – the ultimate exclusive club. For bureaucrats, it was a job as an undersecretary in one of the big departments or a senior aide to the president – maybe even chief of staff. For the military officers, it could range from anyone of a dozen prestigious commands, to being placed in charge of one of the branches of the armed forces, to taking the top spot of chairman of the Joint Chiefs.

These men and women roamed the back passages of Washington, and most of them were no more dangerous than their peers in corporate America. They were what he would call fairly harmless plotters, groups of people working together to further their careers. Experience had taught Stansfield, though, that there were always a few willing to use extraordinary measures to achieve their goals, a few who were willing to kill if need be.

One of these groups was obviously on the move, and their target appeared to be the CIA. Stansfield had yet to share these thoughts with anyone. He would wait to hear what their visitor had to say before he would draw any further conclusions. It was disheartening for him to have worked so tirelessly to ensure the neutrality and stability of his beloved Agency and then now, when he barely had the strength to fight, to find out that he was under an assault by a group that he could not identify. He could not allow the CIA to fall into the hands of someone who might use its vast resources for political or personal gain. He had to make sure that Irene Kennedy succeeded him and that she was armed with the knowledge to defend herself.

The CIA was too powerful a weapon to let fall into the wrong hands. The president would nominate Irene Kennedy, and he would use all of his political skill and clout to make sure she was confirmed. Hayes had many reasons for agreeing to this, despite the missteps of the last week. First off, Kennedy was more than qualified, and secondly he trusted her. This led to the third and maybe most important reason far as the president was concerned. He needed his flank protected. With Kennedy at the helm of the CIA, he wouldn't have to worry about any aggression coming from that direction.

As much as both men wanted Kennedy to be the next director of the Central Intelligence Agency, the man they were about to meet with had as much or even more say in whether or not that happened. The fact that he had asked see them during the middle of this Peter Cameron problem was slightly unsettling.

Senator Hank Clark entered the Situation Room, and the president stood to shake his hand. When Stansfield tried stand, Clark put a firm but comforting hand on his shoulder and said, «Now, Thomas, you just stay right there. A living legend like yourself doesn't need to get up for me.»

The president smiled and winked at Clark, approving of his gesture. «Would you like anything to drink, Hank?»

«No thanks, Robert.» Clark and Hayes had served in the Senate together for two full terms. Hayes was on the InteIligence Committee when Clark was named chairman. Hayes preferred to be called by his first name when they were alone like this.

«Are you sure? It's no trouble at all.»

«No, I'm fine. I might need one when we're done, but until then, I think I'll lay off the stuff.»

«All right.» The president gestured to a chair on the other side of the table from Stansfield.

Clark walked slowly around the table and unbuttoned his suit coat before he sat. Looking across the table, he asked, «Thomas, how are you doing?»

«I'm dying.»

Clark grinned. «We're all dying, Thomas.» Clark glanced at the president.» Aren't we, Robert?»

«That's right. But not all of us have led a life like Thomas's.»

«No. In fact, I would say that very few have led a life like Thomas's. This country owes you a great debt.»

Stansfield seemed to soak the words in for a second and then said, «Thank you, Senator Clark.»

Clark laughed at the formal use of his name. «Will I ever hear you call me Hank before you leave this world?»

The corners of Stansfield's mouth turned up ever so slightly. «No.»

«I didn't think so.» Clark clasped his hands together, and his mood seemed to darken.

The president noticed this and asked, «What's bothering you, Hank,»

Clark didn't respond at first, and then, glancing sideways at the president, he said, «Robert, we've always been able to cut through the crap and talk straight to each other.» The president nodded. «We served on the Intelligence Committee together for years, and I always respected the fact that you put national security issues above party politics.»

«And I've always respected you for doing the same.»

«Thank you. I would like your word that you will handle what I'm about to tell you with discretion. Especially with reference to where you heard it.»

The president's curiosity had been piqued by the request. «You have my word.»

«I am very concerned about what is going to happen with the CIA when Thomas leaves us.» Clark looked at Stansfield. «I think I know who you have chosen as your successor, and I approve. I think Dr. Kennedy is one of the best candidates for the job. And more importantly, if Thomas thinks she's the best person, you will have my full support during her confirmation hearing.»

Stansfield was relieved. Clark's support of a Kennedy nomination was crucial. As chairman of the Senate Select Committee on Intelligence, he was the key to getting someone through the confirmation process.

«I am very pleased to hear this,» said the president. No amateur in the art of politics, Hayes was waiting for the standard tit-for-tat request. «What is it that you seek for this cooperation?»

Clark acted slightly offended. «Robert, I took the chairmanship of the Intelligence Committee because I didn't want someone politicizing the oversight process for their own gains. I'm offering my cooperation because I think Dr. Kennedy will do a good job, but even more importantly, I want her to succeed Thomas because I don't think she's corruptible.»

«Fair enough. I'm sorry if I offended you.»

Clark waved his hand as if he were shooing a fly from in front of his face. «You know it takes a lot more than something like this to offend me.»

«Yes,» the president smiled, «it does.»

«My real concern in coming here tonight is twofold. When we were in the Senate together, Robert, there was a select group of us who felt our government wasn't doing enough to battle terrorism. We took the very unusual and risky step of approaching the deputy director of Operations for the CIA.» Clark looked at Stansfield. It was he who had been in charge of Operations for the CIA at the time. «We thought it was time to take the battle to the terrorists. Diplomacy was getting us nowhere, military intervention was disastrous and it was time to use the third option. We placed our confidence in Thomas and gave him a blank check to launch covert operations against terrorist groups across the Middle East. You were one of those original senators, Robert. Unlike the others who were involved in that decision, you and I are the only ones who know exactly how successful Thomas's group has been. Even with our success, however, it is paramount that the existence of that group remain a secret.» Clark looked at the two men while they nodded in agreement. «Well, I don't know if it's dumb luck, intuition, or if we have a leak, but we have a problem, or I should say you have a problem, Robert.»

President Hayes did not like the sound of this. Clark was referring to the Orion Team, of course, and the thought of its existence being made public caused a wave of nausea to wash over the president. «And what is that?»

«I met with two individuals from your party the other day. I informed Thomas of this meeting.» Clark looked at the director of the CIA. «For reasons that are not known to me, these two individuals are working feverishly to make sure that Dr. Kennedy does not become the next director of the Central Intelligence Agency.»

President Hayes face was turning red. «And who are these two individuals?»

«Secretary Midleton and Chairman Rudin.»

President Hayes struggled to keep his composure. He bit his bottom lip and looked over at Stansfield.

«What troubles me even more is that they think Kennedy had a hand in the assassination of Count HagenmiIler. I don't want to get involved in how they know this, but I think it is paramount that you find out how they know and stop them from talking about it.»

IT WAS APPROACHING midnight on Thursday. It had been an incredibly long day. None of them had slept. Rapp, Coleman, Dumond, and Kennedy all had heavy eyelids as they sat around Stansfield's kitchen table. The director was asleep. After returning from the White House, he'd met with Kennedy in private. He filled her in on what he'd learned from Senator Clark, and she in turn explained what Rapp, Coleman, and Dumond had learned from picking through Peter Cameron's life. Stansfield gave Kennedy her marching orders, and then he was out. He had to return to the White House in the morning for some very important meetings.

As they sat around the table, it was Dumond who did most of the talking. He had recovered mounds of information from the PC in Cameron's apartment and the laptop they'd found in his office at George Washington University. As for Cameron's body, it was currently en route to an incinerator outside Baltimore. It had been taken from his office in a large cardboard box on a two-wheeler by a man in a brown UPS uniform. No one batted an eye. As an extra precaution, a man roughly fitting Cameron's description would board a flight in the morning to Bogota, Colombia. He would use Cameron's passport for the journey.

«A lot of this information doesn't mean a thing to me,» said Dumond. «If he has any classified material on these hard drives, I wouldn't know it.»

Is there any mention of Midleton or Rudin?» Kennedy asked.

«Yeah, but his database reads like a Who's Who of Washington. He advised both intelligence committees and an unknown number of other politicians on national security issues. I mean, you could look through this thing, Irene, but you'd better plan on blocking out a week. Either that, or you're going to have to let me get some help from the CTC. There's just too much information.»

Kennedy had already thought about bringing in some of her people from the Counterterrorism Center, but she didn't like the downside. They had to find out if there were any leaks first. «We can't ask for any help from the CTC, at least not yet.»

«Well, I don't know how you expect me to handle this. It's going to take me a long time, and to be honest, this isn't my specialty. I'm not an analyst. I don't know these names like you do, I don't see the issues or understand the agendas. I don't have the foggiest idea who's important and who isn't. I've got the financial stuff nailed, but the rest of it is a mystery to me.»

«For now, concentrate on anything that might link him to the secretary of state or Congressman Rudin.»

«What about the money?» asked Rapp.

Dumond had discovered two offshore accounts in the Bahamas totaling almost half a million dollars. «I spent more than an hour today trying to track where those payments came from, and I came up with zip.»

«Should we let someone else take a crack at it?»

Dumond was offended by Rapp's question. «Listen, if I can't find out where that money came from, no one is going to.»

«I'm just asking.»

«His body was still warm when you arrived.» Kennedy looked at Rapp and Coleman. «Did you see anyone leaving the building?»

Coleman thought about it and said, «There was one woman entering the staircase when we got off the elevator.» He shrugged. «Didn't get much of a look at her.»

«Mitch?»

Rapp thought of the woman he'd seen. The more he replayed the scene, the more he believed it was Donatella Rahn. The way she moved and the way Peter Cameron had been killed both pointed to the Italian beauty. Rapp knew he couldn't tell Kennedy of his suspicions, at least not in front of the others. He owed too much to Donatella. He would have to arrange a trip to Italy and talk to her alone. No bosses, no official intelligence business, just two old lovers who owed each other their lives.

Rapp shook his head and looked at Kennedy. «I didn't see anything unusual.»

«Well, I've sent someone over to grab the security tapes. We'll have to sit down tomorrow and go over them.»

«Good thinking.» One of the reasons Rapp liked working for Kennedy was that she was so thorough. Cameron's sudden disappearance would eventually garner the attention of the police, and through some very simple detective work, they would discover that he had entered Funger Hall on the last day anyone had ever seen him but had never left. Not only was the killer probably on that tape, but so were Rapp and Coleman. They had been wearing hats and knew how to tilt their heads in such a way as to prevent the camera from getting a good shot of their faces, but still, they would prefer it if the authorities never had the chance to get that far.