I can’t discuss this with you.”
Hurley snorted. “I know more shit about our black ops than the president, so stop wasting my time and start answering my questions, or we’re going to test that little euphorian theory of yours.”
“And what theory would that be?”
“The one about torture… how you like to tell all your buddies in the press that it doesn’t work. That it’s nothing more than a recruiting tool for al Qaeda.”
Adams looked dumbfounded. “Well, that’s true.”
“And how in the hell would you know?” Hurley leaned over the chair. “Have you ever interrogated someone? Had to get rough with him to save lives?”
“You know the answer to that. I’m the inspector general of the CIA.”
“What about those twenty-three months you spent in the clandestine service that you like to brag about? A whole five of them in the field. And even then the only time you left the embassy compound was to play golf or try to get laid.”
“I’m not going to relive all that with you,” Adams said with a forced smile. “Let’s just agree that there are two sides to every story.”
“Yeah… like the truth and then the stuff that isn’t the truth. Like your little dinner date last night.”
“What about it?”
“According to Mitch you were in the process of committing treason.”
“Mitch Rapp is a professional liar.”
“It might be a good idea if you didn’t try to make this about Mitch. You either start answering me honestly, or I’m going to bring him in here, and you know as well as I do that he cares even less about your feelings than I do.”
“Fine… fine,” Adams said, backpedaling. “But there’s only so much I can say.”
“What were you doing in New York last night?”
“Having dinner with an old college friend.”
“Discussing?”
Adams hesitated. He had to be careful not to catch himself in a lie. “I respect you, Stan. I always have, so I’m going to say this as politely as I can. I don’t answer to you. I don’t answer to Mitch Rapp. I answer to the president and the oversight committees on the Hill. That’s it.”
Hurley exhaled a sigh of frustration. “I don’t seem to be getting through to you.”
“I feel the same way,” Adams said in disappointment. “I understand how difficult this business is, so I’m willing to look the other way this one time, but this offer is not going to last very long. I’m tired and I have a busy day of appointments. I’ll give Rapp one chance to let me walk out of here. And I mean right now. One chance.” Adams held up his index finger.
Hurley started to laugh. “You don’t understand what’s going on, do you?”
“I understand that in about two hours people are going to start wondering where I am, and once that happens it is going to be very hard for me to look the other way on this. So, for the last time, let me go and I’ll forget all this, but I tell you,” Adams’s face flushed with anger, “if Rapp so much as looks at me the wrong way, I will bury him.”
Hurley wouldn’t have believed the man’s arrogance if he hadn’t been here to witness it. “I don’t think you’re going to be going anywhere for quite a while.”
“I’d better,” Adams felt his heart begin to race, “because what little understanding I have is quickly wasting away.”
“You’re an idiot,” Hurley said as if he were telling him his shoes were untied. “I tried my best to help you early in your career, but you really are one dumb son of a bitch.”
Adams acted as if he’d been slapped in the face. “Uncle Stan, I have done nothing wrong. I am the one trying to do the right thing.”
“If you think you’ve done nothing wrong, then I might as well shoot you in the head and get this over with.”
Adams ’s mouth was agape. Here was a man he had known since birth-his father’s best friend, for Christ’s sake. Adams blurted out, “I’ve served my country. I don’t understand… I signed up just like you and
Hurley snorted. “I know more shit about our black ops than the president, so stop wasting my time and start answering my questions, or we’re going to test that little euphorian theory of yours.”
“And what theory would that be?”
“The one about torture… how you like to tell all your buddies in the press that it doesn’t work. That it’s nothing more than a recruiting tool for al Qaeda.”
Adams looked dumbfounded. “Well, that’s true.”
“And how in the hell would you know?” Hurley leaned over the chair. “Have you ever interrogated someone? Had to get rough with him to save lives?”
“You know the answer to that. I’m the inspector general of the CIA.”
“What about those twenty-three months you spent in the clandestine service that you like to brag about? A whole five of them in the field. And even then the only time you left the embassy compound was to play golf or try to get laid.”
“I’m not going to relive all that with you,” Adams said with a forced smile. “Let’s just agree that there are two sides to every story.”
“Yeah… like the truth and then the stuff that isn’t the truth. Like your little dinner date last night.”
“What about it?”
“According to Mitch you were in the process of committing treason.”
“Mitch Rapp is a professional liar.”
“It might be a good idea if you didn’t try to make this about Mitch. You either start answering me honestly, or I’m going to bring him in here, and you know as well as I do that he cares even less about your feelings than I do.”
“Fine… fine,” Adams said, backpedaling. “But there’s only so much I can say.”
“What were you doing in New York last night?”
“Having dinner with an old college friend.”
“Discussing?”
Adams hesitated. He had to be careful not to catch himself in a lie. “I respect you, Stan. I always have, so I’m going to say this as politely as I can. I don’t answer to you. I don’t answer to Mitch Rapp. I answer to the president and the oversight committees on the Hill. That’s it.”
Hurley exhaled a sigh of frustration. “I don’t seem to be getting through to you.”
“I feel the same way,” Adams said in disappointment. “I understand how difficult this business is, so I’m willing to look the other way this one time, but this offer is not going to last very long. I’m tired and I have a busy day of appointments. I’ll give Rapp one chance to let me walk out of here. And I mean right now. One chance.” Adams held up his index finger.
Hurley started to laugh. “You don’t understand what’s going on, do you?”
“I understand that in about two hours people are going to start wondering where I am, and once that happens it is going to be very hard for me to look the other way on this. So, for the last time, let me go and I’ll forget all this, but I tell you,” Adams’s face flushed with anger, “if Rapp so much as looks at me the wrong way, I will bury him.”
Hurley wouldn’t have believed the man’s arrogance if he hadn’t been here to witness it. “I don’t think you’re going to be going anywhere for quite a while.”
“I’d better,” Adams felt his heart begin to race, “because what little understanding I have is quickly wasting away.”
“You’re an idiot,” Hurley said as if he were telling him his shoes were untied. “I tried my best to help you early in your career, but you really are one dumb son of a bitch.”
Adams acted as if he’d been slapped in the face. “Uncle Stan, I have done nothing wrong. I am the one trying to do the right thing.”
“If you think you’ve done nothing wrong, then I might as well shoot you in the head and get this over with.”
Adams ’s mouth was agape. Here was a man he had known since birth-his father’s best friend, for Christ’s sake. Adams blurted out, “I’ve served my country. I don’t understand… I signed up just like you and
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