Page 49

The doubt sneaked up on her, and she began asking herself just what in the hell she was thinking when she'd allowed herself to fall in love with Mitch Rapp. There were a lot of obvious reasons. He was an incredibly gentle and sensitive man, especially considering what he did for a living. He was, without exaggeration, the sexiest man she'd ever known. His rugged good looks were backed up by a confidence and intellect that feared nothing. He was a lover like no one she had ever experienced. When they went to bed it felt as if their bodies were made to be with each other. And he had saved her life and countless others. She could place no value on that. He was a phenomenal person, but he had his faults, or more precisely, he had one major fault.
Rielly knew what it was like to grow up in a home where you worried if a loved one might not return after a days work, or if the next knock on the door might be your father's best friend coming to tell the family that Dad had given his life in the line of duty. Rielly's father had just retired from the Chicago Police Department after thirty years. As a little girl she vividly remembered lying awake at night hearing sirens and worrying that Daddy wouldn't come home, crying as she thought of never seeing him again. Her parents did their best to protect her and her brothers from the fears, but they were unavoidable. Chicago was a big city and with it came some pretty rough crime and with that came dead cops. They saw it on TV, they saw it in the papers, and the nuns made them pray for the deceased officers and their families at St. Ann 's, her Catholic grade school. It was not a nice part of her childhood.
Anna loved her father dearly. He and her mother had done a wonderful job raising her and her brothers. Two of those brothers had followed in their father's footsteps and were now patrolmen with the Chicago PD and the other brother, the black sheep, was an attorney.
Anna had always told herself she'd never marry a cop. Despite the fact that her mother and father had made it, she'd seen enough other fathers friends to know the stress from their jobs more often than not made marriage a failed venture. And Mitch's job, if that's what she could call it, was ten times worse. Cops were meant to keep the peace and enforce the law. Occasionally they had to draw their weapon, but rarely did they have to shoot someone. If they did it was usually because someone was shooting at them. During these dark moments of doubt, Anna was forced to admit who Mitch Rapp really was. He was an assassin. When he went to work he went with the intent to kill. He didn't wait for anyone to shoot first, he went with his gun cocked and drawn.
She looked up at the door and wished he would walk through it right now before she went any further down this path. She wished that he would hold her tight and tell her that this last piece of business was taken care of. That he was done with the killing and the field operations and was ready to take a desk job at Langley. She held the sweaty glass so tightly she thought it might break. Tilting her head back, she took a big gulp and finished her second drink. She got up to pour another, and as she walked toward the mini bar, she prayed that Mitch wouldn't let her down. She didn't want any more nights of worrying, wondering if he was on his way to meet her or if he was already dead.
the man moaned and started to move. Rapp tore his headset off and threw it on the seat. Keeping the gun pressed against his head, Rapp took his free hand and undid the man's belt and pants. Then grabbing him by his jacket collar, he yanked him from the car and slammed him against the rear door of the sedan. He'd already checked his breast pocket for ID and had found nothing. Rapp took this as a sign that he wasn't a cop.
"Who do you work for?" asked Rapp in Italian. The man looked at him through dazed eyes and told Rapp to go fuck himself. Without hesitation Rapp brought his knee up and delivered a vicious blow to the mans groin. He tried to double over, but Rapp kept him pinned against the car.
Rapp repeated the question, and this time the guy spat in his face. Rapp brought his head back and snapped it forward. His brow landed on the bridge of the mans nose, instantly crushing it and sending a stream of blood running down the mans face.
Grabbing him by his jacket collar, Rapp swung the man around and yanked the back of the jacket down so his arms were pinned against his sides. He then pushed him forward and started marching him across the street toward Donatella's
flat. The man moaned in pain and spit blood from his mouth. His unbuckled pants fell from his waist and he was forced to grab them.
"Keep walking." Rapp's pistol was stuck in the small of the mans back right on the spinal column. One wrong move and the guy would lose the use of his legs for the rest of his life. With his free hand, Rapp hit the send button on his mobile phone and listened through his earpiece as it began to ring.
After an eternity, a very out of breath Donatella answered. In a clipped voice, Rapp asked, "Is everything all right?"
"No. "There was obvious pain in her voice.
"Hold tight. I'm on my way up. Can you buzz me through the door?"
"Yeah."
Rapp pushed the man in the back and drove him forward. "Move it." When they got to the door, Rapp told Donatella to buzz him in. The elevator was waiting for them, but Rapp ignored it. Shoving the man toward the stairs he said, "All right, numb-nuts, let's double-time it up these stairs. If you slow me down or try anything stupid you're dead." With that they started up the stairs, Rapp pushing the man every step of the way.
When they reached Donatellas apartment the door was cracked. Rapp pushed the man into the flat and closed and locked the door behind them. When he entered the living room he saw a body on the floor and Donatella sitting on the couch with blood on her face and neck.
"What in the hell happened?"
"There were two of them waiting for me. The one on the floor, and a second one over there behind the couch."
Rapp didn't bother asking if they were dead. "Are you hit?"
Donatella nodded.
"Where?"
"My shoulder."
Rapp could tell by her posture that the wound was more than a graze. His mind was scrambling to prioritize what had to be done. A gunshot wound was serious business. They would have to get a doctor, and not just any doctor. They'd need one on the payroll. One who wouldn't report it to the authorities. The first thing he had to do though, was secure the man he'd dragged up from the car. With one hand still on the guy's shirt collar, Rapp flipped his gun in the air and caught it by the barrel. He then swung it, smashing the grip into the back left side of the man's head. His knees went limp and Rapp lowered his unconscious body to the floor.
Stepping over him, Rapp knelt down in front of Donatella. "Are you hit anywhere else?" he asked incredulously as he looked at all the blood on her chin and neck.
"No. This is his." She jerked her head toward Rosenthals body "I bit his ear during the struggle."
Rapp started peeling back her jacket so he could get a look at the wound. Donatella winced in pain. Rapp asked, "Any idea who these goons belong to?"
"No."
After he'd eased the jacket off her shoulder, he found the bullet hole in her shirt and tore it open so he could inspect the wound. He quickly realized by the size of it that he was looking at an exit wound. His other hand slid around the back and felt for the entry wound. He found it with his forefinger and was pleased that there was very little blood coming from it. "What would you say if I told you I think they're Israelis?"
"I'd tell you you're crazy."