“What about it?” she said in an exasperated tone. “They brought this on themselves. If Nassar and ISIS want it, let them have it.”
He wasn’t surprised that she’d see it that way, but the truth was far more complicated. While it was a fact that this was a wound the royalty had inflicted on themselves, it was the average person who would suffer. What would happen to them when ISIS rolled across the Middle East? He didn’t have to ask because he’d seen it with his own eyes. And what about America’s soldiers who would be sent when the U.S. could no longer stand by and watch the horrors that would be created by a Saudi-ISIS alliance? How many of them would bleed out in the sand?
“I can’t just let this go, Claudia.”
“Then I’m going to ask you again to call Irene.”
He shook his head. “I can’t drag her into this. She has to make that decision on her own. We’ll wait and see what Joel does.”
She snatched up a throw pillow and threw it at him, missing his right ear by less than an inch. “Joel Wilson is probably in Aali Nassar’s office right now, plotting how to find you! Or he’s in Washington telling Senator Ferris that you murdered his entire team!”
“Maybe.”
“Stop being so calm!” When she reached for the alarm clock he moved in. She had a pretty good arm, and the heavy plastic looked like it could do some damage.
She resisted for a moment when he wrapped his arms around her but then rested her head on his chest. “I haven’t had much of a life, Mitch. Except for Anna, I wish I could forget everything that happened before I met you. But now . . .” Her voice trailed off for a moment. “You’re the best at what you do. But even you can’t survive with the whole world against you.”
*
Rapp stepped out onto the safari camp’s terrace to find the rest of his team waiting. Donatella had retreated to the shade of a flowering arbor and Kent Black was tanning in a lounge chair next to a pyramid of empty beer cans. Predictably, Azarov was sitting with his back to the building, sipping sparkling water.
“All of you have lived up to your reputations,” he began as Claudia took a seat. “And I want to thank you for everything you’ve done.”
“What’s next?” Black asked, slurring a bit.
“There is no next. You’ve already stayed on a hell of a lot longer than I had a right to expect.”
“What about that towelhead who’s trying to frame you, Mitch? I thought we were going to pop him.”
“It’d be better for all of you if I handled that myself.”
“So you’re releasing us?” Donatella said.
“Yeah. And that brings us to the subject of payment. After expenses, Orion Consulting still has bank balances of . . .” He looked over at Claudia.
“Just over fifty million U.S. dollars.”
“Okay. Fifty million. Grisha, I know you got your cash up front, but do you want a cut?”
The Russian shook his head.
“Then Claudia and I are going to keep ten to finish what we have to do. That leaves forty. Split between Kent and Donatella, that’s twenty each.”
Black’s head rolled forward off his lounge chair. “What? Did you just say that you’re going to transfer twenty million dollars into my account?”
“Yeah. And you’re free to start contracting again. Or you can sit on a beach for the rest of your life. Just stay out of my way.”
“Not a problem,” he said, getting up and making rounds, shaking everyone’s hand. When he got to Rapp, he just backed away cautiously. “It’s been real, man.”
Rapp waited for him to disappear around the corner before he spoke again. “Donatella. I don’t have a lot of pull at the CIA right now, but it doesn’t matter. Claudia’s as good as anyone at this. It’ll take a couple of months, but she’ll put a clean identity together for you and get you set up in New York. Obviously you’re going to have to get some work done to your face.”
“I have someone in Buenos Aires.”
“No contracts, no fashion industry, and no Italy,” Rapp reminded her.
She nodded. “I assume we won’t meet again in this lifetime?”
“Not unless something goes very wrong.”
She glided up to him and gave him a lingering kiss on the mouth. “If you ever need someone to watch your ass again, don’t hesitate to call.”
Stepping back, she looked at the others. “It’s been a pleasure working with all of you. Claudia, I’ll send you my contact information when I get to Argentina.”
“I’ll look forward to it. And while you’re there, ask them if there’s something they can do about your nose.”
Rapp tensed but, to his surprise, Donatella grinned and the two women hugged before she wandered off.
The sound of Kent Black’s motorcycle speeding away reached Rapp just as he turned to the last man left on the terrace. “I assume you want something more than the dollar I paid you in Costa Rica.”
Azarov set down his drink and stood. “It’ll probably turn out to be nothing.”
“But?”
“Should any of the enemies I made in Russia ever decide to come back into my life, I might need help.”
“I’ll be there.”
He nodded respectfully and then walked over to Claudia. She looked a little nervous when he kissed her hand, but the naked fear that was so obvious at their first meeting had faded.
When Azarov was gone, she turned toward Rapp. “Just the two of us.”
He popped the top off one of the unopened beers Black had left. “Yeah. Just the two of us.”
CHAPTER 53
CIA Headquarters
Langley, Virginia
U.S.A.
IRENE Kennedy glanced over her reading glasses as her office door opened and her executive assistant slipped through.
“I know you asked not to be disturbed . . .”
“Is everything all right, Jamie?”
“I’m honestly not sure how to answer that question. Joel Wilson is here to see you again.”
“I’m sorry. Did you say Joel Wilson?”
“Yes, ma’am.”
The FBI agent had been last seen in Juba, where he and his team were ambushed. Intelligence was still piecemeal, but the best information circulating was that it was a case of mistaken identity. A local rebel leader thought Wilson and his people were a group of arms dealers led by someone called Jason Blaze.
She, however, knew a bit more. Blaze was really a former Army Ranger who answered to the name Kent Black. Further, she had a description of his associates that bore an uncanny resemblance to Mitch Rapp, Claudia Dufort, Donatella Rahn, and Grisha Azarov.
In all likelihood, Rapp and Claudia had led Wilson into a trap—the goal of which was to kill Aali Nassar without their direct involvement. Unfortunately, Nassar wasn’t there. A tragedy, really. Not only was he a man who very much needed killing, but she hated to see such a beautifully conceived plan go wrong.
“Irene? Should I send him in?”