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This wasn’t Rapp’s first time dealing with dogs. His M-4 rifle was slung around his neck and off to one side while he gripped his suppressed pistol with both hands. Rapp checke
d to make sure his radio was in transmit mode and said, “You stay out here. Let me know if anyone shows up.”
Rapp started down the hallway, moving silently to the door at the far end. Kassar had described the layout of the room, but Rapp had no idea where the dog was. He should have asked Kassar, and thought about going back for a brief second, but was too eager to push on. He opened the door with his right hand and stepped into the room, sweeping his gun right to left and back again. He heard the dog growl and placed his front sight on the beast’s massive head.
“That dog fucking moves and he’s dead.”
A pale hand grabbed the dog’s collar.
Rapp looked at the pulped face, and if it weren’t for the fact that he’d seen the interrogation video he would have never believed it was Rickman. “You okay, Rick?”
Rickman couldn’t manage to speak for a full five seconds. Then he began to stutter.
“Yes . . . thank god you’re here.”
“Shut the fuck up, Rick.”
“It’s just that I can’t believe you found me.”
Rapp’s eyes continued to dart around the room, making sure he didn’t miss anything. “I bet you’re shocked as hell, since you hired Louie Gould to kill me and you used your fucking dog as bait.”
“Mitch, I swear to you, this is all General Durrani. He abducted me, tortured me, and made it look like I was dead so you guys would stop looking for me.”
“And then he gave you your dog back to keep you company. You are so full of shit, Rick. And too smart for your own good.” Rapp kept coming back to the dog. There was no away around it. He had nothing against the pooch, but he had to go. Efficient as always, Rapp squeezed the trigger and sent a single bullet into the Rottweiler’s head. The dog didn’t make a sound.
But Rickman did. He was absolutely beside himself. “What have you done? Ajax hasn’t done a thing!” Rickman screamed as he wrestled with the dog’s lifeless body. “You’re a fucking animal. God dammit!”
“And you’re one sick fuck,” Rapp said calmly as he approached the bed. “Your four bodyguards are all dead . . . one of them by your own hand. Mick Reavers, twenty-one cops, and Hubbard, and you don’t shed a tear, but someone kills your dog and you finally show some emotion.”
Rickman couldn’t respond. He was too devastated by the loss of his dog.
“Any final words?”
“Don’t do this, Mitch. I can help you. I can still help Langley. You can debrief me. I know things . . . very important things.”
Rapp guessed that he probably did, but there was this little trust thing. Rickman and his big brain would be a nightmare for interrogators. Add to it the fact that his betrayal had gotten some good men killed, and the decision was easy. “Fuck you, Rick.” Rapp squeezed the trigger once.
CHAPTER 58
DURRANI was temped to call the mullahs and the imams and order them to storm the American Embassy. He’d even gone so far as to wonder if he dare provide them with a photo of that bitch Kennedy so they could kill her for him. Ultimately, though, he knew he could not move. Taj was furious and he was bound to be keeping a close eye on him. After Kennedy and her man had left the meeting, Taj demanded answers. Durrani knew that the photos provided by Kennedy would be checked against ISI personnel records and eventually all five men would turn up as positive matches. That little fact wouldn’t necessarily incriminate Durrani, but the fact that they were assigned to the External Wing would sink his career. And it would only get worse as they began to interview his deputies. Durrani was extremely hands-on, and his fingerprints were all over this mess.
So he did the only thing he could do and admitted to sending the men to Switzerland. “What were you thinking?” Taj asked.
“That my friend had been framed,” Durrani answered, with all the sincerity he could muster. “I knew no one else was going to lift a finger, so I sent some men to talk to this banker.”
The photos were still on the table and Taj said, “How did they get into a gunfight with the Americans?”
“I don’t know.”
“What type of men are these? What were they planning to do to the banker?”
The implication was obvious. Durrani had sent some knuckle draggers to rough up the banker. “They were good men. I only sent them to get answers.” Durrani could tell that Taj didn’t believe him, and Nassir seemed unaffected by the entire disaster. Durrani supposed he was enjoying the fact that his chief competitor had just shot himself in the foot and ruined his chances of replacing Taj. Go ahead, Durrani thought to himself. Continue to underestimate me and I will make you pay for it.
Ashan, for his part, seemed unusually cool toward him. Durrani would have thought that he’d appreciate the fact that he was trying to help him. The fact that he wasn’t meant Ashan was beginning to suspect Durrani’s real motives. Durrani couldn’t get out of the director general’s office fast enough. He needed to talk to Rickman. The two of them needed to figure out what to do.
Now, as his convoy reached the gates of Bahria Town, Durrani wondered if it might not be best to move Rickman to another location. There was a manpower issue at the moment, so security would be a problem, though. Even worse, it might further delay the moment when Rick shared everything he knew about the CIA. That was the part that infuriated Durrani the most. He could replace the men he’d lost in Switzerland, but he could not get the information out of Rickman fast enough.
The cars pulled into the courtyard and Durrani was out like a shot. Raza was waiting for him at the main door, and as Durrani walked past him he heard his butler say, “Kassar is back.”