EPILOGUE
OUTSIDE OF SWAKOPMUND
NAMIBIA
“THE dishwasher’s full,” Anna said from her position in the kitchen doorway.
Claudia didn’t immediately respond, instead squeezing onto the sofa near Rapp’s feet. He moved them to her lap.
“Are there still dirty dishes?”
“Some. But just a few. I put them in the sink.”
“Why don’t you hand-wash them? We don’t want to get any more of those bugs.”
“Because there are too many! We can put them in the dishwasher tonight. There aren’t that many bugs.”
“March back in there and don’t come out until they’re all clean.”
“I can’t reach the faucet.”
“There’s a stepstool in the pantry. Any other problems I can help you with?”
“Mitch said he wanted to do them.”
He grabbed a decorative pillow and lobbed it, missing her by inches. “You’d already be done with them by now if you just stopped whining.”
“You said you were going to be gone for two days and it was like a week! I had to do them the whole time! It’s your turn.”
It was true that it had taken longer than expected to slip back into Namibia without being tracked. The fact that Cook had just let him go without saying a word about the ultimatum he’d been presented was a little worrying. While it could mean that he was going to take the deal, it could just as easily be a temporary retreat to regroup. And if that was the case, Rapp was likely being targeted by the combined forces of Homeland Security, the American military, and a significant number of US allies. In light of that, a week seemed pretty respectable.
“Anna…” Claudia cautioned.
“Fine!” she said before disappearing back into the kitchen. A few moments later the angry crash of dishes became audible.
Claudia sighed. “It could be a very long year.”
“We’ll work it out.”
“I know we will. But if the president doesn’t take your offer, we’re going to need to sketch out some more concrete plans. We can’t just spend the next year throwing darts at a world map and going where they land. Anna needs more structure than that. She’s a handful as it is. We don’t want her turning feral.”
A disturbing silence descended on the kitchen and Rapp was about to get up to investigate when the phone on the coffee table rang. They both froze. The only person with the number was Irene Kennedy and it was single use. If she was calling, it was about something important.
Claudia licked her lips, staring down at the piece of vibrating plastic like it held the secrets of the universe. Finally, she nodded and he reached for it.
“Go ahead.”
He heard a familiar clattering as someone taped the phone she’d called to another one in order to create an air gap similar to the one Coleman had helped with two weeks before.
“Mitch?” she said. “Are you there?”
“I’m here.”
“My sources say that the president is about to hold an emergency press conference. He goes on in five minutes.”
“Any word on what it’s about?”
“No. But the networks are all scrambling to run it live. Do you have a way to watch where you are?”
“Yeah.”
“Then good luck. To all of us.”
She cut the call off. Even with all the security, shorter was better.
Claudia looked at him and let out a nervous laugh. “It’s a little like opening a box at Christmas that could be the greatest gift you ever got—”
“Or a half kilo of plastique wired to the flap,” Rapp said, finishing her thought.
“Exactly.”
He used a remote to turn on the TV and surf through the satellite channels. Finally, he found a news service with a feed of the empty lectern in the White House briefing room. A commentator was speculating endlessly about what the conference could be about, but Rapp suspected that she wasn’t even close. There could be only two reasons for the president to be speaking on that particular morning. The first was to announce that Mitch Rapp had threatened to assassinate him and a worldwide manhunt was in the offing. The second was to resign. Which it would be was a coin toss at this point.
The clattering of dishes started in the kitchen again, but they ignored it, remaining glued to the unmoving image on-screen. A few minutes later, President Anthony Cook strode out. No notes, meticulously groomed, and an expression that gave nothing away.
“Thank you all for coming,” he said, making eye contact with the reporters lined up in front of him. “I’ll make this brief and I’m not taking questions. I’ve recently been diagnosed with a serious illness. After discussing it at length with my doctor, the first lady, and the vice president, I’ve come to the conclusion that I can no longer carry out the duties of the presidency at the level that the American people deserve. Because of this, I will be resigning as soon as we can develop a plan to ensure a smooth transition. While my time in the Oval Office has been short, it’s been the greatest honor of my life. I thank you all for your confidence and God bless America.”