Executive Power by Vince Flynn

it upon himself to brief the head of a foreign country that U.S. Special Forces were about to conduct a covert operation on that country’s soil. Any reasonable person would conclude that these actions clearly led to the deaths of two U.S. Navy SEALs. You have said it yourself, Mr. President, we are at war. This is serious business, and in my mind the ambassador and the undersecretary are traitors and their actions cannot go unpunished.”
    â€œI agree that they should be punished,” Jones said quickly before anyone else could speak. “I say we ship them off to the worst posting we can think of. I say we not only make them take a cut in pay, but we make them pay restitution to the families of the two dead soldiers. I say—”
    â€œDead sailors,” the general corrected her. Looking back to the president he added, “I happen to agree with Mitch. If it were up to me, I would have these two marched in front of a firing squad and shot, but I realize in today’s world that will never happen. I do, however, think they need to spend some hard time in jail and they need to be publicly humiliated. They need be made an example of.”
    Jones, desperate to turn the tide of this conversation, weighed in once more. “General, I’m not saying I disagree with you, but again I don’t think you’re looking at how this scandal will affect this administration.”
    â€œWith all due respect, Miss Jones, I’m more concerned with the welfare of this republic than any single administration. The two should go hand in hand, but as you’ve so passionately pointed out this morning, that’s not always the case.”
    Jones glared at the general and said, “That was a cheap shot.”
    â€œNo, it was a direct shot, but if I wasn’t blunt enough for you, let me spell this entire clusterfuck out for you in clear English.” The general leaned toward the chief of staff and said, “This was a big operation. A lot of military and intelligence personnel knew about it beforehand, and since it went south a lot more people know about it today.” Flood stuck out one of his beefy fingers with conviction and said, “I can guarantee you, if you try to whitewash this thing, someone in uniform, or over at Langley, is going to be so offended they will talk to a reporter off the record and they will set off a chain reaction that will do exactly what you’re hoping to avoid. And that’s if Mitch doesn’t break the story first.”
    â€œYou worry about your people, general,” Jones shot back, “and I’ll handle Rapp.”
    The sheer lunacy of the comment caused Flood to roar with laughter. “You’re going to tell Mitch Rapp what to do? Let me know when and where, and I’ll pay top dollar to witness that fight.”
    Before Jones could speak again, the president came forward in his chair and rested his forearms on his desk. “I’ve made a decision.” He was talking to everyone, but was looking at Jones. “We’re going to confront this thing head-on, and it’s not up for debate. If we try to bury it … it’ll only come back and bite us in the ass. I want the Justice Department to prepare warrants for the arrest of Assistant Secretary Petry and Ambassador Cox.”
    Jones began shaking her head. “Robert—”
    Before she could continue the president cut her off and said, “Valerie, cancel my dinner plans for this evening and inform the congressional leadership that I’d like to meet with them.”
    Jones had a pained expression on her face. The president’s demeanor suggested that any further protests would be unwise. She’d lost this one for now, but there was always later. When she had him alone she would try to get him to rethink his decision before he jumped off the cliff.
    With strained pleasantness Jones asked, “What would you like me to tell them?”
    â€œTell