“Do we have any idea where Mitch is now?”

“My counterpart at the GID believes he got on a private jet outside of Riyadh two days ago and headed toward Africa.”

“Not home, I assume.”

She shook her head.

“Can we trace the jet?”

“No. It seems to have been conjured from thin air and then disappeared back into it.”

He chewed his lower lip and looked down at the photograph again. Best to meet Kennedy’s eye as little as possible.

“Thoughts?” she said.

“You don’t need my help on this one, Irene. Appearing and disappearing jets without any Agency involvement? That has Claudia’s name written all over it. Have you talked to her?”

“Only to offer my condolences about Mitch’s disappearance.”

Finally, he tossed the photo back on her desk. Now was the appropriate time to run his fingers through his hair. Two-handed felt right, given the circumstances.

“My wife’s talked to her probably every day since then. But not to Anna. Claudia said she hadn’t broken it to her yet. Now we know why.” He paused for a moment, creating the illusion of building anger. “That prick! We already ordered the food for his wake and we’re past the time we can get a refund. When he gets back, I’m billing his ass. And you know what else this means? Mitch wouldn’t leave Scott and the guys hanging. They’re out there somewhere, too.”

“I don’t know if we can be sure of that,” Kennedy cautioned.

“Yeah, but you’ve got to admit there’s a good chance,” he said, transforming his rage into hope accompanied by just a dash of joy. “A hell of a lot better chance than there was yesterday.”

He let a slow smile spread across his face. “And to think. I was gonna go over and mow his stupid lawn. You know what I’m going to do instead? Let the goats loose in there.”

She just sat there, undoubtedly wanting to give him time to assimilate what he’d heard, but also to examine his reaction. This was the most dangerous part of their conversation because he was feeling pretty much the opposite of what he was trying to portray. But he still didn’t have the information he’d come here for. How would he approach this if he really were just now finding out about Rapp being alive? The answer was simple. Directly. He wouldn’t believe that Kennedy was in the dark and he wouldn’t get sucked into a verbal sparring match. That was her wheelhouse, and she was the queen of it.

“The one thing you’ve never been good at, Irene, is playing dumb. So, what’s it going to be? Are you going to tell me what’s going on or are you just going to keep stringing me along?”