The second guy was on him almost immediately and actually got ahold of Rapp’s jumpsuit for a second, before Rapp broke free with a series of quick rabbit punches to several vital organs. He then took the man by the wrist, twisted the hand 180 degrees, and straightened his arm so that his elbow was in a locked position pointing directly up at the ceiling. One quick kick to the stomach sent the man to the floor. There was a moment where the entire room was still. Rapp looked across the cell at the other gangbangers and tried to gauge their mood. They were all paying rapt attention, and a few looked like they might join in. Rapp decided that the easiest way to stop the violence was to make an example. With the perp’s arm still in a straight and locked position, Rapp dropped to his right knee, brought his left arm up above his head, and brought his elbow smashing down. When the blow struck, the other man’s elbow socket exploded, sounding like a two-by-four snapping from too much weight.

When the guards showed up, the first perp was just regaining his ability to breathe, but the other two were rolling around on the ground screaming in pain with limbs pointed at very unnatural angles. The guards had a quick conference and decided to move Rapp to one of the interrogation rooms. That was where he had been sitting from roughly one in the morning until now. He was shackled around his wrists and ankles and chained to the metal table. The cinder-block walls were blank. With nothing to look at and nothing to do but wait, Rapp rested his head on the table and tried to sleep. He lost track of time but it felt like he’d been in the room for close to ten hours, which meant it was probably closer to five. Alone with nothing but his thoughts, he wondered how Kennedy was taking things. There was a good chance that she was raising holy hell, but one never really knew in this town.

When the door finally opened, Rapp looked up and saw a man roughly his age, wearing a blue suit and a mint green and blue striped tie. He was handsome, but not in a masculine way. He was too perfect, too deliberate. Like he put a lot of effort into his grooming and appearance. He entered the room holding a cup of coffee, a scone, and a leather briefing folder under one arm. He kicked the door closed and sat down across from Rapp.

After straightening his tie and taking a sip of coffee he said, “You have managed to get yourself into a lot of trouble.”

Rapp stared back at him with his brown eyes that were so dark they were almost black and said nothing.

“Striking an officer of the United States Air Force is a very serious crime.” He glanced at Rapp with his most serious expression and flipped open the briefing folder. “Not to mention this part about you donning the uniform of colonel and sneaking around a United States military installation without authorized access. I would say you’ve finally run out of luck, Mr. Rapp.”

Rapp said nothing. He stared back at the man and wondered if he really thought he was going to somehow scare him.

“You’re looking at ten years… maybe more.”

Rapp chuckled.

“You find this funny?”

“I find your theatrical bravado funny.”

The man took a sip of coffee and in a morose tone said, “I don’t think you’re going to be laughing when you’re sitting in a federal prison getting buttfucked by a bunch of hard cons.”

Rapp’s eyes narrowed, the creases in his forehead deepening. He sensed something in the man across the table. Something he should be leery of. “Who are you?”

The man straightened his tie and said, “I’m Wade Kline… Department of Justice Chief Privacy and Civil Liberties Officer, and I’m your worst nightmare, Mr. Rapp.”

“Really?” Rapp asked in a not-impressed tone.

“Yes. I’m incorruptible, and I don’t like people who think they don’t have to play by the rules.”

Rapp nodded. “Speaking of the rules,” Rapp glanced up at the camera in the corner, “would you mind telling me why I haven’t seen my attorney?”

Kline grinned at Rapp and with an arched brow said, “Sometimes it’s hard to track down a lawyer in the middle of the night. I’m sure he’ll be along in time for your arraignment.”

“Well, it is very considerate of you to come in here and talk to me without my lawyer present, but I think I’ll pass.”

Kline plucked a chunk of the scone from the wax paper and popped it into his mouth. “What if I were to tell you I could make this all go away?”

“How?”

“You cooperate with my investigation. You talk to me about your superiors at Langley. You fill me on your illegal domestic spying operations. It’s your only chance.”

“You’re joking, right?”

“Mr. Rapp, do I look like the type of person who jokes around?”

Rapp thought to himself that it was a valid point. This guy took himself far too seriously to screw around. “You know what I think, Kline? I think there’s a real shit storm brewing outside this room right now. I think there’s a lot of pissed-off people at the Pentagon and the White House.”

“Really?”

“Yep… I think you got wind of this little misunderstanding between Captain Leland and myself and you decided to run with it before checking in with your superiors. I think the attorney general has had his ass reamed by the president, which means the AG has now turned around and reamed your ass, and since you’re a desperate type of fellow and you hate to lose, you’ve now decided the only way you can save face on this deal is to try this lame-ass Hail Mary attempt… promising you’ll go light on me in return for me telling you about all the nasty shit I’ve seen the CIA do over the last eighteen years.”

“I can promise you, Mr. Rapp, I don’t make empty threats,” Wade said seriously. “I’ve spent too many hours in a courtroom to say something I can’t follow through on.”

“Then help me understand your situation, because you don’t have a case against me. This little scuffle between Captain Leland and myself… there’s two sides to how that went down and even if you believe everything he’s telling you, which would be a mistake, all you’ve got is a misdemeanor assault. You and I both know I’ll never see the inside of a jail, let alone have to endure all these boyfriends you’re talking about. And as far as me putting on the uniform of a colonel” – Rapp shrugged – “that’s what we do in the Clandestine Service. So unless you’ve got something you’re not telling me, you’re wasting my time.”

“Well,” started Kline with a big smile, “there is this other matter.”

“And what would that be?”

“The part about you beating and torturing a bound prisoner.”

A small grin spread across Rapp’s lips. He was waiting for this card to be played. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“Sure you do. Captain Leland and General Garrison have already filed their official reports.” Kline consulted his notes. “The prisoner’s name is Abu Haggani. We have photos of his cut and bruised face attached to the report.”

“Didn’t happen.”

“I have a security tape that says different.” Kline stared unflinchingly at Rapp. “You’d better make this deal with me or you’re going to get caught up in a media firestorm that is going to make Abu Ghraib look like a twenty-four-hour scandal.”

If Rapp hadn’t already spoken to Marcus Dumond, who had assured him that all recordings had been destroyed, he might have been slightly anxious, but even if Kline did have the tape he would never flip. Rapp glanced down at Kline’s notes and said, “Show it to me.”

“What?”

“The tape.”

“The FBI,” he said calmly, “is analyzing it for evidence.”

“Sure they are.” Rapp smiled and gave Kline a look as if they were both on the inside of a joke. “You don’t have shit, Kline.”

“I do, and you’re going down… and you’re going to bring the rest of that den of rats down with you.”

“You’re a big talker, Kline,” Rapp said in a confident voice. “I’ve seen your type come and go every few years. You’ve got your righteous gung-ho attitude. You talk tough about cleaning up crime and defending Lady Liberty, but we both know why you do it.”