“How old?”

“Late twenties.”

“Anything else?”

“He has an Airborne tattoo on his left bicep.”

“Name?”

Nash shook his head.

“All right. I’ll have a buddy of mine check the morgue for John Does.”

“Thanks,” said Nash while plucking Charlie off the desk. If something had happened to Johnson, he would never forgive himself.

“Don’t you have to get your ass downtown?”

“Yeah.”

“Well, good luck. Don’t take any shit from those peckers.”

At the door Nash stopped and said, “I’m not the one who’s going to need it. Rapp’s the one they have in their sights today.”

CHAPTER 57

CAPITOL HILL

RAPP stood in front of the witness table, his right hand in the air. He repeated after the committee staffer who swore him in. It was possibly the first time he’d ever taken the oath in front of this or any other committee, for that fact, where he actually planned on telling the truth. He knew this was one of the reasons so many of them hated him. His lack of respect drove their overfed egos wild. Professional parsers, bullshitters, and liars, they couldn’t get through a day without bending the truth in some drastic way, but God forbid someone come before their hallowed committee and do the same.

When he was done he sat down and looked up at the nineteen senators arrayed before him. They were sitting in judgment behind a heavy wood bench that curved around him and back like a horseshoe. The Judiciary Committee was without a doubt the most partisan in the Senate, due almost solely to the abortion issue and the fact that, in addition to the myriad of issues they faced, the committee was also charged with the confirmation of federal judges. Unfortunately, it affected everything that came before the committee. Of the nineteen members a dozen could be considered the most radical in the Senate.

Rapp was alone at the long witness table. He had chosen to make a statement that this problem started and ended with him. He had mixed feelings about how this was going to proceed. A very weary part of him had hoped they would be reckless enough to do this in front of the media. It would finally bring things to a head. It would force them to confront their lack of discipline and leadership. Anna would have loved that. His face being flashed all around the world would have all but assured that his days as a field operative would be done. In all the nights he’d been thinking about this, though, he knew they’d blink. These hearings were for show, and these vain men and women did not like to be embarrassed.

Their chairman was moving this thing along faster than they were used to. She wanted Rapp in her crosshairs before he changed his mind and lawyered up. But there were others who simply didn’t like the idea of a hearing with so many unknowns. They were used to getting written testimony in advance – kind of like getting the answers to a test and then making up your own questions. The whole system was rigged to their advantage, and Rapp was looking forward to dropping a few surprises on them. This was the one silver lining of a closed hearing. They were far more likely to grant him some latitude. If the cameras were present, and they sensed anything embarrassing, they would rally around each other like a pack of hyenas, howling and snapping until the clamor reached such a level that it would drown out the words of the witness. In a closed-door session, he stood a far better chance of being able to finish a point, and hopefully get them to put party politics on hold.

Chairman Lonsdale removed her reading glasses and set them in front of her. Rapp looked up and noticed that her demeanor had changed drastically during the fifteen-minute recess. The first ninety minutes of the morning had been spent hearing the testimony of Captain Leland, who had been flown back from Afghanistan. Lonsdale and her colleagues had treated him with the sensitivity a prosecutor would afford a rape victim. Now they were going to get their pound of flesh from the rapist.

With a disapproving frown, Lonsdale said, “Mr. Rapp, I trust you paid close attention to Captain Leland’s testimony.”

Rapp had been ordered to sit in the gallery during Leland’s testimony. “I did, Madam Chairman.”

“I considered it to be very truthful, yet,” Lonsdale said as she held up a sheaf of documents, “quite in contradiction to the written statement you have provided us.”

“Are you saying that you find my statement to be false?” Rapp asked.

“I do, as a matter of fact. You look perfectly healthy, Mr. Rapp, whereas Captain Leland has obviously been physically assaulted.” Lonsdale gestured to Leland, who was now sitting in the sparsely populated gallery flanked by his two recently hired attorneys.

Rapp looked over his shoulder at Leland, who was in his Air Force dress blue jacket and a matching sling. His head was tilted in a way that made his black eye impossible to miss. Rapp returned his attention to Lonsdale. “So without hearing my verbal testimony, you’ve already made up your mind?”

“You will be given an opportunity to plead your case, but at this point it is obvious that you have an uphill battle, Mr. Rapp.”

“Well, it certainly is reassuring to have such a fair and impartial chairman presiding over this hearing,” Rapp said in a voice full of sarcasm. “And you wonder why such an alarming number of people choose to exercise their Fifth Amendment right when called before this committee.”

Lonsdale’s eyes narrowed, and she was about to respond to Rapp’s charge, when there was a commotion at the back of the room. Rapp resisted the urge to look over his shoulder, since this was the cue for the first big surprise. Lonsdale and then every other senator turned their attention to the center aisle of the committee room. Rapp heard the deep baritone voice and resisted his desire to smile. He knew what was about to happen, and understood perhaps better than most that it was going to be a historic moment. One where the legislative branch was about to be challenged on their home turf by a cabinet member of the executive branch.

“Madam Chairman,” the voice boomed louder than anything that had been heard that morning. “I apologize for the intrusion, but I have something here that has a direct bearing on the matter before you.”

Rapp found it safe now to turn and look at England. The secretary of defense was in his mid-fifties and had a full head of gray hair. He was widely known in Washington to be one of the more amiable cabinet members. He walked past Rapp’s table without looking at him and stopped at a long wooden table that sat between the witness table and the raised dais. The senators all began sharing looks that ran the gamut from amusement to concern.

“Secretary England,” Lonsdale said with trepidation into her microphone, “this is a closed-door hearing, and since you are not on the witness list, I am going to…”

England slammed a four-inch sheaf of documents down on the table and loudly announced, “I won’t take but a minute of your time, and since you, Madam Chairman, have seen fit to involve yourself in the day-to-day affairs of the Department of Defense, I find it my duty to return the favor.”

“I beg your…”

“That’s quite all right,” England shouted, refusing to yield the floor. “Esteemed members of the committee,” he said as he looked from one end of the bench to the other in a casual sweeping motion, “I have in my hand a signed statement from General Garrison, the commander of the Bagram Air Base, Afghanistan. That would make him Captain Leland’s commanding officer. He was present during the incident that you are now discussing.”

“Secretary England,” Lonsdale said in a sad, irritated voice, “this is highly irregular. If you…”

“No more irregular,” England said in a singsong voice, “than the chairperson calling a friend at the Justice Department in the middle of the night, and having that friend initiate an investigation on one of my bases.”