The Survivor by Vince Flynn, Kyle Mills

set fire after fire, running Kennedy and her people ragged. It was a plan that had gotten off to a rousing start. Even if that whore prostrated herself in front of the director of the FSB, the already tense relations between America and Russia would further worsen. There was little doubt that plans for reprisals were in the works at the Kremlin.
    It was tempting to just let Rickman’s strategy play out. To sit on the sidelines and watch the CIA blow itself apart. Tempting, but impossible.
    Rickman’s plan for revenge against his former employer wasakin to an IED—powerful, but indiscriminate. If Taj could possess the -information—particularly if he could do so without Kennedy knowing—it could be transformed from an explosive to a scalpel. With it, he would not only ferret out every traitor in his own government, but co-opt the Americans’ entire network. Under the threat of exposure, he could quietly turn the CIA’s most sensitive assets and monitor or kill the others. Critical spies they believed to be loyal would in fact be working for the ISI. They would provide him with an endless stream of information about U.S. intelligence efforts while feeding back a carefully formulated mix of truth and lies. He wouldn’t just blind the world’s most powerful spy agency, he would enslave it.
    Kabir Gadai was personally leading the team trying to track the law firm Rickman had spoken of but the task had proved difficult. The CIA man hid his activities with incredible care and also created countless false trails, each of which had to be diligently followed. Now that he was dead, though, Rickman’s maze had stopped expanding. The picture began to clear.
    There was a knock on the door, and Taj took off his headphones before closing the laptop on his desk.
    “Come.”
    Kabir Gadai strode in and closed the door behind him. Most people were unaware that they were second cousins, and looking at them would offer no hint of the relationship. Gadai was good-looking, well dressed, and outwardly accomplished. He was truly devoted to his three gifted sons and portrayed the necessary fondness for his daughter. His wife was beautiful and charming but, more important, willing to overlook his extramarital affairs in return for a life of privilege. It was an immoral lifestyle that Taj had learned to tolerate in light of -Gadai’s competence and loyalty.
    Of course, like all men, Gadai had weaknesses. While his infidelity was problematic, his egocentric need for those around him to be aware of his accomplishments was far worse. Taj excused it as the exuberance of youth, but until Gadai matured, he would have to be watched with extra care.
    “Doyou have news about Rickman’s attorney?”
    They had traced the Sitting Bull information dump to the general area of Rome, but that left hundreds of individual firms to investigate.
    Gadai laid a dossier on Taj’s desk and the ISI director opened it. He immediately recognized the name of the Italian law firm.
    “We already looked into them, no? They were helping Rickman create anonymous financial trusts with money he’d siphoned off from the CIA’s Afghanistan operation. To benefit his children, if I recall correctly.”
    “You do,” Gadai said. “After we confirmed that his connection with the firm related to personal affairs, we moved on.”
    Taj felt his grudging admiration for the CIA man grow further. More of Rickman’s complex web. He hadn’t hidden his personal activity as carefully as he could have, calculating that anyone who found the firm he used would assume that it wouldn’t also be involved in his plot against the Agency.
    “Then you have him? You know the identity of the lawyer?” Taj said, trying to keep his voice even despite the excitement he felt.
    “I’m afraid it isn’t that easy, Ahmed. It’s a very large firm, and Rickman didn’t use the same lawyer that he used for the trusts.”
    “What about the managing partner? Can we interrogate him?”
    “He’s a