“Or maybe not,” Rapp said. “I’ve been interrogated more times than I care to remember, and I’ve never broken. Plus, I know the people you’d want to use and they’ll refuse—some because we’re friends and others because they’re too smart to risk catching a bullet from Scott.”
“I think you forgot someone,” Cook said, a hint of smugness creeping onto his expression.
“Who’s that?”
“Jane Hornig.”
Rapp kept his expression neutral. Dr. Jane Hornig had advanced degrees in both neurology and biochemistry, as well as having written extensively on the psychology of pain. She’d also produced a thousand-plus-page tome called The Comprehensive Guide to Ancient Torture: Techniques and Devices. Rapp had received a signed copy of the first edition hot off the presses and immediately thrown it away.
Charlie Wicker once remarked that the woman wasn’t just destined for hell, she was destined to run the place. Rapp didn’t disagree but had to admit that she’d never failed to deliver the intel they’d needed—even from the most hardened foreign agents and terrorists.
He’d stopped using her years ago when he’d decided that both she and her methods crossed even his line. After that, he’d forgotten all about her. Or, more accurately, purposely erased their brief association from his mind.
“Interesting woman,” Cook continued, uncrossing his legs and leaning forward. “Not only does she seem to be completely unafraid, but she actually wants to talk with you. I don’t know if it’s to suggest that you tell me everything you know so she doesn’t have to turn your brain into Jell-O or if it’s because she’s excited about the challenge of breaking a man like you. If I had to guess, though, I’d say it was the latter.”
Rapp agreed. This was a woman who had twice been accused of torturing animals in her basement when they finally cut her loose. The truth was that with the right amount of drugs, suffering, and electrical probes drilled into his brain, she could probably get whatever she wanted.
Cook pulled a phone from his pocket. “No reason to speculate. Let’s see what she has to say.”
He seemed to be enjoying himself as he scrolled through his contacts. And why not? The way he saw it, the tide of their meeting had just turned violently in his favor.
Cook put his cell on speaker and the superior acoustics of the room carried the ringtone with near-perfect clarity. When the call was picked up, though, it wasn’t by a woman.
“You still alive, asshole?”
“Afraid so, Mas.”
“Dammit! I had a hundred bucks on sixteen minutes, fifteen seconds.”
“Can’t win ’em all.”
While it was true that Rapp had forgotten about Hornig, Irene Kennedy’s memory was a bit sharper. Joe Maslick had snatched the woman from her Fairfax Station home just before Rapp landed in the United States. Cook was probably regretting releasing the man from jail about now.
“How’ve you been, Jane?” Rapp said.
“I’ve been fine.”
It had been a long time since he’d heard that voice, but it still made him want to take a shower.
“We’re playing Scrabble,” Maslick said. “Should we finish the game?”
An unspoken second clause hung in the air. Or should I put a plastic bag over her head and bury her in the woods?
“Sure. I think you’ve got time.”
The call disconnected but Cook just kept staring down at the screen. Not surprisingly, the smugness in his expression had disappeared.
“If I ran for president,” Rapp said, “do you think I could beat you?”
Cook looked up, dazed. “What?”
“You heard me.”
“Beat me? No… Of course not.”
“Would you even give me a second thought?”
His confusion deepened. “Why would I?”
“Exactly. Why would you? You’re the best in the world at what you do. The very idea that I could beat you and your team at the thing you’ve dedicated your lives to is a joke. Politics is your wheelhouse, and you could destroy me in a thousand different ways that I’ve never even thought about.” Rapp paused for a moment. “Welcome to my wheelhouse, Tony.”
CHAPTER 49
CATHERINE Cook stopped in front of the closed door to the study. Her husband was inside, but beyond that she knew almost nothing. Only that Rapp had arrived as agreed and that she’d been excluded from the meeting at the last minute.
Why? While her husband no longer seemed to trust her, surely he still understood that he needed her. They were still far greater than the sum of their parts and he was free to ignore whatever advice she offered if he chose to do so. In fact, it was his disregard for her counsel that had gotten them in this situation in the first place.