Rapp was only half listening. His mind was searching for something. Something that he knew was supposed to be important. The blow to his head had scrambled certain memories, and some of the things that had happened in the days preceding the attack were a bit sketchy.

"She's a woman," Rapp said more to himself than Kennedy.

"Yes," Kennedy replied. "Typically they are the ones who get pregnant."

Rapp ignored her remedial tone and said, "And her partner is a man."

"I would a.s.sume so," Kennedy sighed. "And quite possibly the father of the child."

The scene flickered across Rapp's mind like a homemade movie. He muttered, "I saw them."

"What?"

"I saw them on the road the day before my knee surgery. I was coming back from a run and came around the corner and there they were." Rapp had a clear picture of the two of them. He suddenly recalled that the man gave him a bit of concern. He had that lean, athletic quality that is so prevalent with the Special Forces guys. Kennedy was saying something, but Rapp wasn't listening. He was focused on the replay of what had happened. The man had said something to him. Rapp could hear the voice. He had said that she was pregnant. The woman was throwing up. He remembered the man's gla.s.ses and wishing he could get a look at his eyes. He'd asked them a few questions and the guy had done all the talking and then finally the woman stood up and said something. There was something unusual about what she said. Rapp struggled to remember what it was and then it hit him. It wasn't what she said, it was how she said it. The woman had a French accent.

65.

ZIHUATANEJO, MEXICO.

L ouie kissed Claudia on the forehead and slowly pulled his arm from under her neck. She stirred and rolled onto her other side. Carefully, he flipped back the sheets and slid out of bed. He went to the bathroom to relieve himself and then decided to go out to the patio. Looking out at the ocean he leaned over and rested his forearms on top of the wall. Sunrise was fast approaching. The sky above him was gray, and the sky to the west was black. ouie kissed Claudia on the forehead and slowly pulled his arm from under her neck. She stirred and rolled onto her other side. Carefully, he flipped back the sheets and slid out of bed. He went to the bathroom to relieve himself and then decided to go out to the patio. Looking out at the ocean he leaned over and rested his forearms on top of the wall. Sunrise was fast approaching. The sky above him was gray, and the sky to the west was black.

Louie was glad he'd come to his senses and abandoned the idea to finish the job. Losing Claudia after all they'd been through would've been extremely stupid. He'd recognized before it was too late that it was his ego that had been driving him to finish the job. The desire to be known someday as the man who had defeated the great Mitch Rapp mixed with his need to finish everything he started had blinded him to the reality of the situation. The professional in him kicked in when he was clearing U.S. customs at the Houston International Airport. He had one set of identification, one credit card, no weapon, and just under $8,000 in cash. The likelihood that he could successfully get to Rapp, who would now be alert and protected, was not good. The odds that he could kill the man and get out of the country without leaving a trail were next to nothing.

Ultimately, though, it was that one memory of Rapp the day they had accidentally b.u.mped into each other on the road that had forced him to come to his senses. Louie had spent the entirety of his adult life around soldiers. Men who were trained to go off and fight. They came in a variety of shapes and sizes. Some had overpowering physical presence, but were as dumb as a potted plant. Louie had used these men in the same way one used pack mules. He had them carry heavy machine guns or mortars. Other men were wiry and small, but had great instincts or organizational skills. These men became clerks, or if they had endurance they were trained to be snipers or scouts. Muscle could be added or heft could be taken away. Basic skills could be drummed into the stupidest of men, but instinct was something that could not be taught. It could be discovered and nurtured, but you were either born with it or you were out of luck.

Standing in the Houston airport waiting for the flight that would take him back to DC, Louie remembered the way Rapp had looked at him on that morning, and the way his hand had hovered just above the f.a.n.n.y pack that undoubtedly concealed a gun. They had found out later, from listening to the wife's conversations, that he had been hurt on that morning. Louie remembered hearing the wife tell a friend that she had never seen her husband in so much pain. At the time Louie was thinking in terms of how he could use the injury to his advantage and hadn't bothered to connect the fact that despite being in great pain, Rapp's instincts had still detected something wrong that morning on the road by his house. Like any highly developed predator, Rapp was acutely in touch with his senses and his surroundings at all times.

As the departure for the flight to DC neared, Louie began to lose his nerve for the first time he could remember since almost drowning in a scuba training accident at the age of twenty-one. His subsequent trips to the ocean had been terrifying, and if it hadn't been for his fellow paratroopers standing right next to him he had no doubt that he would have quit. The only thing worse than his fear of the water was his fear of letting down his fellow brothers in arms. But now, alone in an airport filled with strangers, there was no esprit de corps. His thoughts turned to Claudia and the child that was growing within her. Without any further thought he returned to the Continental ticket counter and exchanged his ticket to DC for a flight to Ixtapa.

Louie looked down at the waves breaking against the rocks beneath him and smiled. He was confident that he had made the right decision. To think that he had almost abandoned Claudia when she'd needed him most embarra.s.sed him. Louie had always sworn that he would never be like his own father. Leaving her like that in the airport, pregnant and traumatized, was just the thing his father would have done.

Louie watched the sailboats gently rock back and forth on the water. This place was special. It was too bad they couldn't stay here and raise a family.

Just then Claudia came up from behind him and wrapped her arms around his waist. "What are you doing up so early?"

"I got up to go to the bathroom and decided to come out here and look at the water." Louie stood up straight and grabbed her hands. "How great is this place?"

"Much better with you here."

He undid her hands and stood next to her. His arms wrapped around her shoulders and hers wrapped around his waist, they stood there looking out across the bay. With a sigh, Louie said, "It's too bad."

"What?"

"That we're going to have to leave."

"Why?" she asked, her voice filled with disappointment.

"You know why. It's too risky to stay in one place for too long. Especially right now."

Claudia's heart sank as she remembered the difficult road that lay ahead. She had yet to tell Louie what she'd done in the days they were apart and it was beginning to weigh heavily on her. There was no telling how he would react when she told him, although one thing was certain; the longer she waited to tell him the harder it would be. Claudia rested her head against Louie's bare chest, and started to speak but suddenly lost the courage.

Louie noticed something was bothering her and asked, "What?"

She held him tight and asked, "Do you love me?"

"You know I do," he said with a slight laugh.

"I have something I must tell you." She kissed his chest and added, "But I want you to think about what I am going through while I tell you this."

Louie grabbed her by the shoulders and took a step back. He knew Claudia well enough to be warned by her tone. "What did you do?"

She looked him in the eye, wavered, thought she might not have the courage, and then blurted out, "I have been in contact with the CIA."

Louie searched her eyes for the truth. She was not lying to him. In as calm a voice as he could muster he asked, "Why?"

"It is complicated. It started out as a way to say that I was sorry for what happened to the woman. On top of that you know I don't like Abel. I didn't from the moment I met him."

"I don't care about Abel. I want to know what you did."

"After we parted ways, Abel sent several more threatening e-mails. I decided if that was the way he wanted to play I would give the CIA his name and see how he liked it when Mitch Rapp showed up looking for him."

Louie nodded slowly. A part of him admired Claudia for the move. He had warned Abel to watch his step. The man was in no position to threaten them, but he supposed the German was under a great deal of pressure to get the money back. The type of pressure that sometimes causes people to do very foolish things. "The CIA is a big place," Louie said. "Who did you contact?"

"Director Kennedy."

This surprised Louie momentarily. "When you say you've been in contact, what exactly does that mean?"

"We have e-mailed each other."

"How many times?" Louie asked, his chest tightening.

"I sent her four e-mails."

Louie released her shoulders and nearly bit off his own tongue. "Why four?"

Claudia's big brown eyes welled with tears. She could see Louie struggling to contain his anger. She ignored the question and moved onto the part that was really going to send him through the roof. "Please stay calm for a moment so I can get this all out, and then if you want to leave me I'll understand."

"I'm not going to leave you," he said, almost as if he was convincing himself.

Claudia grabbed his hands. "We've always split everything...Right?"

He nodded.

She knew of no easy way to say it so it just came out. "I put five million dollars into a Swiss bank account under Rapp's name."

Louie thought his head was going to implode. "Five million dollars." He was doing everything in his power to stay calm. He loved this woman standing before him. If he didn't care for her, he would have simply chucked her over the wall and taken great joy in watching her head split open as it hit the rocks. "Why?"

"Our baby."

"What does giving Mitch Rapp five million dollars have to do with our baby?" Louie's voice started to rise.

"I wanted to try and make things right...and buy some time."

"Buy some time." Louie frowned. "How does this buy some time?"

"You know he's going to come after us."

"Let him," Louie said in a quiet but angry voice.

Claudia shook her head. "You don't mean that. This is not some normal man. We killed his wife. His pregnant wife. What would you do if some man killed me right now?" Claudia watched him intently for a moment. "We both know you would stop at nothing until you had killed him with your own bare hands. If Mitch Rapp finds us, he will kill us both."

"And you think just because you gave him five million dollars he will forget about us?"

"No," she said, "as I told you, it will only buy us some time."

"Time?" he asked with a frown, still not comprehending what she was after.

Claudia placed his hand on her stomach and said, "I asked for nine months. I asked for him to spare our baby. I want to give birth to our child and hold it in my arms, and then whatever he does to us I will accept." She sensed some understanding in Louie's face. "That five million dollars isn't even ours," she said with disgust in her voice. "I never wanted the job, and we didn't finish it. If I had it my way, we would give him all of the money."

"We need that money," Louie said in a surprisingly calm voice. He was just now comprehending the maternal forces that had been at play. Her words had stirred his own sense of paternity-a need to protect Claudia and their unborn child. He disagreed vehemently with what she had done, and how it may have exposed them, but there was no undoing it. Her motives had been pure.

Louie kissed her on the forehead and said, "I still love you."

Claudia melted in his arms. "Thank you, darling."

They stood there, not speaking, for several minutes and then Claudia said, "Let's go back to bed."

Louie shook his head. "No."

"Why?" she asked, suddenly afraid that he would in fact leave her.

"We need to get out of here immediately. Pack your bags."

66.

RIYADH, SAUDI A ARABIA.

H is first reaction was to think they were being played, fed some fake information that would lead them on a wild-goose chase and waste a lot of time and resources. He also didn't want to a.s.sociate a single n.o.ble characteristic with his wife's killers. In the face of all of that, though, there was the five million dollars sitting in an account under his name. There was also according to Kennedy a very heartfelt confession, apology, and plea written by this woman whom Rapp had seen throwing up on the side of the road near his house. Rapp had been through a lot over the years, experienced a lot of strange things, but this one left him shaking his head. It didn't make any sense. If he had the time he could attempt to sort it out. He could a.n.a.lyze what he knew, investigate what he was unsure of, and ultimately decide what was subterfuge and what was the truth. He could gauge real intentions and weigh the possibility of an ingenious deception on the part of the real killer or killers. He told Kennedy to have Dumond empty all of Abel's bank accounts and keep an eye on the banks. Rapp didn't care how carefully the guy was hiding, when he found out eleven million dollars of his money was gone he would want some answers. In the meantime, though, Rapp needed to focus on reuniting a father and son. is first reaction was to think they were being played, fed some fake information that would lead them on a wild-goose chase and waste a lot of time and resources. He also didn't want to a.s.sociate a single n.o.ble characteristic with his wife's killers. In the face of all of that, though, there was the five million dollars sitting in an account under his name. There was also according to Kennedy a very heartfelt confession, apology, and plea written by this woman whom Rapp had seen throwing up on the side of the road near his house. Rapp had been through a lot over the years, experienced a lot of strange things, but this one left him shaking his head. It didn't make any sense. If he had the time he could attempt to sort it out. He could a.n.a.lyze what he knew, investigate what he was unsure of, and ultimately decide what was subterfuge and what was the truth. He could gauge real intentions and weigh the possibility of an ingenious deception on the part of the real killer or killers. He told Kennedy to have Dumond empty all of Abel's bank accounts and keep an eye on the banks. Rapp didn't care how carefully the guy was hiding, when he found out eleven million dollars of his money was gone he would want some answers. In the meantime, though, Rapp needed to focus on reuniting a father and son.

Rapp arrived in the capital city of Riyadh as the call to noontime prayer was being sounded. Traffic was light, and then there was no traffic at all as shops were shuttered and closed and the streets were cleared. Kennedy had confirmed through a source on the ground in Riyadh that the father was where Rapp expected him to be. Saeed Ahmed Abdullah was a devout follower of the ultraradical Wahhabi sect of Islam. He had built countless mosques, orphanages, and religious schools all run by Western-hating Wahhabi clerics. Many Saudis follow the tenets of their faith when in the Kingdom, but as soon as they leave the country they partake in the forbidden fruits-gambling, booze, sometimes drugs, and especially s.e.x. Not Saeed Ahmed Abdullah, though. He was different. He was a pious Muslim at all times. Not only did he pray five times a day, as was prescribed by his faith, but he did so in a mosque with the exception of the Isha, Isha, or nighttime prayer, that was said before going to bed. or nighttime prayer, that was said before going to bed.

Running a billion-dollar corporation was not easy. There were lots of demands on Saeed's time, so to help ease that pressure, and stay connected to his faith, he had mosques built directly across the street from his home and his office. A report by the Jordanian Intelligence Service said he attended the Fajr, Fajr, presunrise prayer, and the presunrise prayer, and the Maghrib, Maghrib, post-sunset prayer, at the mosque near his house. The post-sunset prayer, at the mosque near his house. The Zuhr, Zuhr, or noontime prayer, was said at the mosque by his office as well as the or noontime prayer, was said at the mosque by his office as well as the Asr, Asr, or late afternoon prayer. The Jordanians had kept an eye on Saeed for some time. In addition to building mosques, schools, and orphanages, Saeed also liked to donate large sums of money to Hezbollah, Hamas, and several other Palestinian terrorist organizations that specialized in suicide bombings. The Jordanians did not like the Saudis pouring gas on a fire that they had been trying to put out for decades, so they tried their best to find out who was doing it and then pa.s.s the information on to sympathetic ears in the royal family and the U.S. government. or late afternoon prayer. The Jordanians had kept an eye on Saeed for some time. In addition to building mosques, schools, and orphanages, Saeed also liked to donate large sums of money to Hezbollah, Hamas, and several other Palestinian terrorist organizations that specialized in suicide bombings. The Jordanians did not like the Saudis pouring gas on a fire that they had been trying to put out for decades, so they tried their best to find out who was doing it and then pa.s.s the information on to sympathetic ears in the royal family and the U.S. government.

The suicide bombers and terrorists were bad enough, but on a certain level Rapp at least respected them for having the b.a.l.l.s to do it themselves. Men like Saeed, however, who sat back and gave money to these zealots like it was some hobby, they were reprehensible. They knew exactly where their money was going. They knew they were funding suicide bombers who would get on buses and kill innocent men, women, and children, and worse, they were proud that they had a hand in it. Proud and blinded by the demented belief that they were doing G.o.d's work.

Rapp clutched the steering wheel and drove on through the well-kept business district. His tears were long gone, dried up and replaced with a white hot anger that focused his sense of mission and purpose. For most people, seeking revenge for the murder of a loved one was an enticing, but ultimately impossible notion. Apprehension overtaking another life, no matter how guilty the person might be, would weigh heavily on most people. For Rapp there would be none of that. This was another day at the office, only quite a bit more personal. Over the last fifteen or so years he'd killed a lot of people. A few he'd pitied, but most he'd despised. They were men who clung to their arcane, s.e.xist, and bigoted perversion of Islam while the rest of the world pa.s.sed them by, men who believed in the n.o.bility of suicide bombers, who wantonly killed tiny children.

Rapp had always avoided that, always done everything in his power to make sure that innocent people did not get caught up in the violence, but today would be a test. Men like Saeed always traveled in entourages, with cousins and nephews and a.s.sistants and servants and friends. How many of these men who surrounded Saeed were directly involved in the death of his wife, Rapp wasn't sure, but it was likely that many if not all were complicit through their knowledge of the plan. Was that enough to execute them? Rapp had struggled with the question. These men were the enemy, after all. They were all Wahhabis who constantly called for jihad and cheered the beheadings of innocent civilian contractors in Iraq. Men who kept their wives locked up at home. Men who had probably cheered the death of Rapp's wife. The thought of them celebrating the murder of his Anna tested all restraint. Rapp decided that he would visit upon these pious men the same type of ugly, brutal mayhem they so glibly sponsored.

He slowed the van and took a right turn. The van was the only vehicle on the street. The call to prayer could be heard thrumming out its hypnotic beat in the midday heat. Rapp saw one man, coming toward him. He was wearing a white headdress held in place by a simple black rope and a white kaffiyeh. If the suit and tie was the uniform of the American businessman, this was the Saudi equivalent. The man had a black beard and was wearing dark sungla.s.ses. He appeared to be in a hurry and several times looked over his shoulder to see if anyone was following him. Normally, this behavior would have caught Rapp's attention, but it was easy to figure out why the man was acting this way. He was afraid he would be caught by the religious police, and chastised for not praying.

Rapp slowed as he neared the other end of the long block. The mosque and the headquarters of Abdullah Telecommunications stood out for no other reason than their size and location. The office building was a minimalist block of concrete, entirely forgettable if not for its sheer size. The mosque, however, was one of the most ornate Rapp had ever seen. Four towering minarets marked each corner and a ma.s.sive gold dome dominated the center of the building. Rapp suspected that the gold was real. Up ahead, at the corner of the building, he noted a security camera aimed to cover the area around the front door.

Rapp went straight at the light and then took a left turn. He drove around the block twice and settled on a spot that was not covered by the security camera. It also was shaded and afforded a view of the mosque. He turned off the engine and climbed into the back to check on Waheed. Rapp sat him up and then leaned him against the side of the van. He pulled the blindfold off his face and in Arabic asked him how he was doing. Waheed told him he was thirsty. Rapp placed a hand under his bearded chin, tilted his head back, and gave him some water.

"Better?" Rapp asked.

Waheed nodded.

"Do you think you can walk?"

"I'm not sure."

Rapp pulled open a blade and sliced the white plastic flex cuffs around Waheed's ankles. He told him to move his legs around a bit and asked if he'd like another candy bar. Waheed nodded eagerly. Rapp took off the wrapper and let him hold it in his bound hands.

"We are parked next to your father's office." Rapp noted Waheed seemed surprised. "Your dad does not know the exchange is going to take place. Do you understand?"

Waheed nodded.

"There is a man out there who will have a gun on you at all times. If you do anything other than hug your father he will shoot you. We don't want to make a big scene. Do you understand?"

"Yes."

Rapp looked at his watch. There was no man with a gun of course, but Waheed would never know that. "Are you ready to take a walk?"

"Yes."

Rapp cut the flex cuffs on Waheed's wrists and said, "You know I'd just as soon kill you, so don't do anything stupid." With his knife still in hand Rapp acted as if he was straightening Waheed's robes. His free hand slid between the folds and checked something on the Saudi's vest. Rapp put the knife away and opened the back door. The mosque would begin to empty in a few minutes. He helped Waheed edge his way to the back tailgate. With his sungla.s.ses, dark skin, robes, and black beard Rapp fit right in. He let Waheed sit there for twenty seconds, his feet resting on the ground. Rapp did not give him sungla.s.ses. He wanted Saeed to recognize his son. Grabbing him under the arm, Rapp helped him to his feet. In the shade the heat wasn't too bad and in fact Rapp hoped it would help speed the bloodflow to Waheed's legs.

The first step was not good. Waheed's legs buckled and Rapp had to move quickly to get under him so he didn't drop to the pavement. Rapp stood him up against the back of the van, closing one of the rear cargo doors.

"Small steps," Rapp said. He moved Waheed away from the van and closed the other door.

Waheed put one hand against the side of the van and started to walk while Rapp had a firm grip on his left side. He made it past the van to a palm tree and stopped there for a few seconds.

"Remember...nothing stupid."