Executive Power by Vince Flynn Page A

them I need to brief them on an issue of national security.”
    â€œI’ll get to work on it right away.” Before leaving she turned to Kennedy. “You’ll keep me informed of any decisions you reach with the DOJ and the FBI?”
    Kennedy noticed it was more a demand than a question, but nonetheless nodded politely. Jones had been thoroughly defeated and there was no sense rubbing it in.
    When the chief of staff was gone the president addressed Kennedy and Flood. “I’m sorry about that. Politics comes first for Valerie. She can’t help it.”
    Flood shook his oversize head and grumbled something. Kennedy watched the general with pursed lips and then added, “No need to apologize, sir. You need people who will watch out for the political ramifications.”
    â€œThat’s true,” agreed the president, “but that doesn’t mean we have to check our morals at the door.” Hayes’s face twisted into a disapproving frown. “Valerie’s tendency is to try to control everything. She doesn’t understand that the American people will cut you a lot of slack as long as you’re up front with them and they know you had the right intentions. In this situation it’s pretty cut and dried.”
    Hayes laid his hands flat on his desk and moved several pieces of paper around while he pondered precisely how to proceed. “I want to do the right thing here. I want to be up front on this, and I want to move very quickly. I don’t want some hotshot reporter breaking this before we get out in front of it, otherwise I’m afraid Valerie will be proven right and I’ll be crucified on the Hill.”
    â€œIf I may, sir?” asked Kennedy. The president nodded and she said, “You might not want to wait for tonight. The general and I could begin briefing select members of the various committees this afternoon. Then when you meet with them tonight, you can give them the entire story. I would caution you, though, that we need to keep General Moro and his involvement out of this.”
    The president’s expression went from keen to confused. “Why?”
    Kennedy hesitated and then said, “Mitch has come up with a solution for dealing with the general. If you have time, I think we should get him back in here so he can explain it to you.”
    The president eyed the director of the CIA with great curiosity. Since diplomacy was far from Mitch Rapp’s area of expertise, the president was very curious about what his top counterterrorism operative had in the works. Two Navy SEALs were dead, a family of Americans were still held hostage and his presidency was on the brink of scandal. Right now, the idea of retribution seemed very appealing.

12
    T he little girl sat huddled in the corner, wrapped in a white robe, clutching herself tightly. David was sweating profusely under the black hood that covered his face. He grabbed one of Hamza’s legs and arms and pulled him to the center of the bed. Hearing a muffled sob, he looked up to check on the girl. Her face was covered by the oversize white folds of the hotel robe. He felt a genuine ache in his heart at the agony she was suffering. He knew it wasn’t just physical pain. Even worse, anguish and nightmares would probably follow her for the rest of her life.
    David guessed that she couldn’t be more than ten years of age. Right about now guilt and self-recrimination would be working their way into her innocent mind. She would begin to wonder what she had done wrong to warrant such treatment. The Muslim world dealt very harshly with sexual stigmas where women were concerned. In David’s patriarchal society the distinction between a woman who willingly commits adultery and one who is forcibly raped is often lost. The honor of the family, which really means the honor of the father, is above all else.
    David looked down at the poor frightened kid in the corner and struggled over what