this before? The presidency wasn’t an end for Barnett, it was a beginning. She wanted the power to close her fist around everything and everyone. She saw Kennedy and Rapp as beneath her—meaningless government workers who existed to do her bidding. Their defiance was stoking her hatred to the point that she was slipping into paranoia.
“Senator, the idea that Mitch Rapp is involving himself in some kind of complex political game is—”
“He sees me as a threat,” Barnett said. “Just like Kennedy. They’re going to use this to come after me. We have to find out what’s happening in Mexico. We have to get ahead of it.”
“We have no way of finding out what’s happening,” Gray said, becoming increasingly alarmed at Barnett’s erratic demeanor. “No one’s going to tell us anything, and if we try to twist arms at the intelligence agencies, it’s going to go public and blow up in our faces.”
“Not the American government,” she said. “We can use our contacts in the Mexican government. They want us to get off their backs regarding immigrants and drugs, right? Well, as president, I can make that happen. And all I ask in return is a little cooperation and information.”
“Now hold on, Senator. If Rapp’s alive, it’s possible that he’s actually still on the trail of ISIS. We—”
“I’m not going to sit on my hands and see that son of a bitch shooting it out with terrorists on television!” she screamed.
Gray tried to stay calm, but he was starting to feel the honest-to-God beginnings of panic. This was the first time he’d ever seen Barnett under real stress. She’d lived a charmed life—an obscenely wealthy husband, children willing to toe her political line, and a career that went nowhere but up. What would happen when she got backed into a corner like all presidents did? What would happen if she was in charge when there was a real national crisis?
“We’re in a hole, Senator. It’s time to stop digging. This is about damage control now. You need to go out there and praise those DEA guys for their heroism. But then you remind voters that we can’t count on NASA and government employees willing to get shot every time there’s a threat to America. That this isn’t a failure of the men and women in the trenches, it’s a failure of leadership. Then we’ll start talking about the economy. Or Russia. North Korea. Guns. It doesn’t mat—”
“They’re not going to allow it,” she said, cutting him off. “This is going to be about a bunch of big strong men on the front lines while I’m back in my office hiding. The weak woman. I’m not going to let that happen, Kevin. We’re going to get in front of this.”
“That’s crazy,” he said, the words coming out of his mouth before he could stop them. “You can’t control the Mexicans, Senator. They have no loyalty to you and no particular love for the U.S. right now. If you ask them to dig up information on Mitch Rapp, the first thing they’re going to do is contact the cartels and—”
“Make it happen.”
“Excuse me?”
“Call them, Kevin. Call the Mexicans. Find out what’s going on. We can still head this off. If there really is something happening down there, we might be able to get the Mexican authorities to deal with it and keep Rapp and Kennedy from getting the win. If it works out, we might even be able to take some credit. Show the American people that I can stop threats before they make it to the United States.”
Gray remained silent. He’d already allowed himself to be dragged into the leak that was turning into a disaster. He was already in deep and it was time to take his own advice and stop digging. The hole was starting to feel like a grave.
Gray picked up his coat and started for the door. “If you want to call the Mexicans, Senator, call them yourself.”
CHAPTER 47
EL PASO
TEXAS
USA
SCOTT Coleman let the minivan drift forward, coming to a stop again behind the Prius he was trailing. Farther up in line, an SUV was passing through the border checkpoint and into Mexico.
He had the windows down and was enjoying cool temperatures that wouldn’t last long after the sun rose in about an hour. The news station playing on the radio was focused on the only story that anyone cared about—the anthrax that had crossed the border and the anonymous CIA operative who had been tracking it. The