Rapp let out a nervous sigh. He was boxed in with nowhere to go.

Defeated and embarrassed he said, "I was shot during a hostage rescue and-" "Shot!" screamed Anna.

"Oh my God, where? Are you all right?"

"Yeah… yeah, I'm fine."

Concerned and puzzled, Anna asked, "So where were you shot?"

"Um…" Rapp hesitated and then in a slightly embarrassed tone said, "In the ass, but don't worry, I'll be fine… it just hurts a lot."

Confusion spread across her face.

"How did you get shot?"

"I can't talk about that," Rapp replied with as much confidence as he could muster.

"It's classified."

Anna placed her hands on her hips and looked angrily at her husband.

"Classified my ass! You're my damn husband for a week, you come home one night and tell me you have to leave town on an urgent matter and that, oh by the way, you won't be doing any more of that James Bond stuff that you used to do." She stabbed a finger at his chest, backing him into the corner.

"You lied to me, Mitchell."

"No"-Rapp kept his hands out in front of him-"that's not true, honey."

"Don't bullshit me, Mitchell! And then to add insult to injury I run into your boss at the White House on Friday night and she tells me you're over in the Philippines supervising the rescue of that family of Americans. Irene told me you were on some ship and out of harm's way." Folding her arms tightly across her chest she added, "I can't believe I was dumb enough to trust her."

Rapp was completely caught off guard that his boss had confided in his wife. Shocked, he asked, "Irene told you about the mission?"

"Yes." Anna got right in his face.

"And don't try to change the subject, or hide behind all that national security crap. If you want this marriage to survive you'd better come clean with me right now. How in the hell did you get shot?"

There was no more room to maneuver.

"I was shot during the hostage rescue."

"So you weren't on the ship, you were right there in the thick of it?"

After hesitating for a second he said, "Yes."

Anna began shaking her head. Through clenched teeth she snarled, "That bitch. She lied to me." Looking her husband in the eye, she said, "Your boss sat there and lied to me at the White House. She ordered you to lead this hostage rescue, and then had the audacity to tell me you were safe." She clenched her fists and let out an angry scream.

"You're done working for her, and when I see her… boy, am I going to let her have it."

Rapp held up his hands in an effort to calm his wife. Caring too much for Irene to let her take the heat for something she didn't do wasn't his style, and in addition, something told him that when the two most important women in his life got together and compared notes they would discover that it was not Irene's fault.

"Anna, don't blame this on Irene."

"Why shouldn't I?" she snapped.

"Because… as far as she knew I was not directly involved in the operation."

Anna took a moment to try to decipher the importance of what her husband had just said.

"What do you mean? She's your boss!"

"Well… she… just um… she's busy. She doesn't have time to micromanage something that's happening thousands of miles away."

Rapp watched nervously as his wife's face twisted into a skeptical frown. Trying to stop her from scrutinizing his words too closely he said, "Hey, the important thing is I'm home, and I'm safe." Smiling, he added, "I've got a little scrape that you won't even notice in a week or two."

"What are you talking about?" shouted an incredulous Anna.

"You were shot in the ass!" She reached out to take a swat at his butt, but he blocked her.

"Honey, let's calm down."

"Don't honey me! And don't tell me to calm down! A couple of inches in the other direction and you could have been hit in an artery, or maybe even your dick… you stupid macho jerk."

"But I wasn't. I'm fine… don't worry about it… it won't happen again."

"Yeah, right," snarled Anna without an ounce of sincerity.

"So tell me something, Mr. Big Shot… Mr. Tip of the Spear." Anna used her fingers to make mocking quotation marks in reference to several articles that had been written about his role in America 's battle against terrorism.

"You're pretty high up on the totem pole. In fact the last time I checked you only take orders from two people.

"The President and Irene. Isn't that right?" Anna poked him in the chest with a finger.

Rapp chose not to answer the question.

"So if Irene didn't order you to be involved in the rescue, then who did? I doubt it was the President."

"Urn…" Rapp hesitated, then decided to keep his mouth shut.

"You did, didn't you?"

Slowly he began to nod and then said, "Yeah."

"You asshole. You lied to me."

"No, I didn't," Rapp said, shaking his head.

"Don't even try it, Mitchell." Anna shook her fist at him.

"You told me you were done with this type of stuff."

"No… I never said that."

Anna took a deep breath trying to gain some composure, and then let out a banshee like scream. Rapp put his hands out to grab her shoulders and try to calm her, but she retreated too quickly.

She shook her fist at him, saying, "Oh, I swear to God, I could hit you right now." Anna's jaw was set and her fists were clenched in rage.

She needed to get away from him, to sort things out, to try to make sense of how she had been so naive. She turned and took a step toward the door.

Rapp let his hands fall and started to follow her.

"Anna, don't worry. Everything is going to be fine."

The don't worry part was what really got to her. It was only her life they were discussing. The man she loved more than anyone in the world had lied to her and then got shot and she was being told not to worry as if they'd had some slight misunderstanding. It was too much to handle. Her entire body tight with rage, she spun and delivered a clean punch to her unsuspecting husband.

Rapp would have been able to block the blow if his eyes had been open, but unfortunately, they were closed while he cursed himself out for being so monumentally stupid. The blow stopped him dead in his tracks, causing him to stumble back a step. Instinctively, his hands snapped up in defense as he prepared to grab hold of his wife's wrists, but she was done with him. She stormed from the room with tears welling in her eyes. Rapp was left alone in the bedroom to ponder the mess he had created.

Mitch Rapp stood in the doorway of his boss's office following the conversation in complete shock and trying to make sense of what was happening. It appeared that his worst nightmare was taking place before his very eyes. Things were spiraling out of control and, for Mitch, who was very much accustomed to being in charge, it was unnerving.

Rapp's body was stiff from sleeping on the couch, and his rear end hurt almost as badly as it had right after he'd been shot. His left eye was slightly swollen, and a headache seemed to be just over the horizon.

Rapp stood on the threshold of the sun-filled office, and wondered what forces had allowed this cruel alliance to form against him. The more he listened to his boss the worse things looked for him.

"No." Kennedy shook her head while holding the phone.

"No…

Oh, that's great," the director of the CIA said with rare sarcasm. She looked up at Rapp disapprovingly from behind her brown glasses.

"No, he didn't bother to tell me that he'd been shot in the ass." She scowled at him, and pointed sternly at a chair in front of her desk.

In all of his years of knowing Kennedy, he had never seen her show this much emotion. Last night, with his wife, was bad enough, but Kennedy had always been someone he could depend on. This just might be intolerable. Rapp stepped into the office and closed the heavy soundproof door. The administrative assistants didn't need to hear this. He walked slowly across the large office as his boss continued discussing his bad behavior with his wife. The whole thing was very unsettling.