JК
The Third Option :: Flynn Vince
Страница: 224 из 267It helped that, in the most basic terms, her boyfriend was a good guy, and the people he killed were not, and it also helped that she had grown up in a house filled with cops. But, like ice on a broken wrist, though knowing these things made the pain better, it didn't solve the problem. What Rapp did for a living bothered her. It bothered her in a very real way, and Rapp knew if he didn't put his killing behind him, he would lose her. She was too special to let that happen. This would be the end of his days with the CIA. It was time to get out.
As he pulled off the Georgetown Pike, he checked the clock on the dash of his car. It was approaching seven in the morning. A short while later, he pulled up to the gate at the end of Director Stansfield's driveway. The ninja-clad machine-gun-toting security officers let him through without checking his ill. Rapp had called ahead and told Kennedy he was coming. Rapp parked and walked up to the house. Normally, Rapp didn't obsess about his appearance, but there were a few people he felt deserved the respect of a clean-shaven face and some decent clothes, preferably a suit. Director Stansfield was one of those people, and Rapp felt slightly embarrassed that he had a day's worth of thick black stubble on his face and was wearing jeans and a baseball cap.
He knocked on die front door, and a second later it was opened by a man with a large bruise on his jaw. The CIA security officer looked less than enthused to see his midnight assailant. Rapp eyed the man and asked, «How's your jaw?»
«Sore.»
«Good.» Rapp walked past him. «Maybe it'll teach you to be a little more careful next time.» He continued down the hall and into the study. He didn't care if the man liked him. This business wasn't about popularity. Rapp only hoped he would learn from his mistake.
Kennedy was standing next to her boss reading him something from a piece of paper. When she saw Rapp, she held up the sheets of fax paper and said, «We have some info on one of the men from last night.»
«From Hornig?» Rapp was referring to Dr. Jane Hornig. The woman specialized in getting information out of people who didn't want to talk. Rapp had sent the two men they had taken alive to Hornig for interrogation.
«No. We ID'd one of the men you shot. His name is Jeff Duser. A former Marine, thirty-five years old, was court-martialed and thrown out of the Corps for what appears to be a quite extensive list of infractions.»
«Who does he work for?»
«We don't have that, but I've got some people looking into it.»
Rapp looked at Stansfield. «I'm sorry for my appearance, sir.
As he pulled off the Georgetown Pike, he checked the clock on the dash of his car. It was approaching seven in the morning. A short while later, he pulled up to the gate at the end of Director Stansfield's driveway. The ninja-clad machine-gun-toting security officers let him through without checking his ill. Rapp had called ahead and told Kennedy he was coming. Rapp parked and walked up to the house. Normally, Rapp didn't obsess about his appearance, but there were a few people he felt deserved the respect of a clean-shaven face and some decent clothes, preferably a suit. Director Stansfield was one of those people, and Rapp felt slightly embarrassed that he had a day's worth of thick black stubble on his face and was wearing jeans and a baseball cap.
He knocked on die front door, and a second later it was opened by a man with a large bruise on his jaw. The CIA security officer looked less than enthused to see his midnight assailant. Rapp eyed the man and asked, «How's your jaw?»
«Sore.»
«Good.» Rapp walked past him. «Maybe it'll teach you to be a little more careful next time.» He continued down the hall and into the study. He didn't care if the man liked him. This business wasn't about popularity. Rapp only hoped he would learn from his mistake.
Kennedy was standing next to her boss reading him something from a piece of paper. When she saw Rapp, she held up the sheets of fax paper and said, «We have some info on one of the men from last night.»
«From Hornig?» Rapp was referring to Dr. Jane Hornig. The woman specialized in getting information out of people who didn't want to talk. Rapp had sent the two men they had taken alive to Hornig for interrogation.
«No. We ID'd one of the men you shot. His name is Jeff Duser. A former Marine, thirty-five years old, was court-martialed and thrown out of the Corps for what appears to be a quite extensive list of infractions.»
«Who does he work for?»
«We don't have that, but I've got some people looking into it.»
Rapp looked at Stansfield. «I'm sorry for my appearance, sir.