Page 104 of Denied Access

“Why?”

“Why what?” Rapp said.

“Why torture them to death? That goes beyond just settling a score. Someone’s trying to send a message.”

“Not trying. Did. What doesVerrätermean?”

“It’s German for ‘traitor.’?”

“They carved it into Carl’s chest.”

A wind tumbled down the hillside, plastering Rapp’s shirt against his torso. The doorway eased open a bit farther as if the house were inviting him back to experience the horrors a second time. Rapp had killed in anger before, but the rage coursing through his blood at that moment felt different. The atrocities visited on an aging man and his dementia-stricken wife weren’t business as usual.

This was personal.

“Those motherfuckers. Volkov was right.”

“Right, how?”

“Not over the phone. You and I are about to go to war.”

“I already have a war,” Rapp said, watching the door swing back and forth in the breeze. “I don’t need another.”

“It’s the same fight. The shit they carved into Ohlmeyer’s chest proves it. Drop Greta off at the US consulate in Zurich. I’ll make sure a detail of DSS security folks and Marines from the embassy in Bern drive down to collect her and then bring her back. She’ll be safe on embassy grounds until this is over.”

“I’m not leaving her again.”

“Kid, I know I haven’t always been straight with you. I was a shitty mentor and an ungrateful son of a bitch. I realize this is a hell of a thing to ask, but I need you to stop with the questions and trust me.”

Rapp felt like he was at the edge of a precipice.

Did Stan Hurley deserve his trust? There was a pretty compelling case to be made that the answer was no. Hurley had deliberately tried to wash him out of the Orion program and then assumed the worst about him when the Paris job went off the rails.

But.

But Hurley had also admitted he was wrong and green-lighted Rapp’s request to kill Cooke and the double-dealing French intelligence officer. Not only that, but he’d been the getaway driver after Rapp completed the job. When Rapp had needed off-the-books help in Barcelona, Hurley had come, no questions asked. Ohlmeyer and his wife were dead, but the original threat to Greta remained. There was no reason to think that whoever had begun this killing spree was going to stop. He could protect Greta in the short term, sure, but at what cost? Was she prepared to spend the rest of her life looking over her shoulder?

The question he’d asked Volkov in Tunisia now taunted him.

Aren’t you tired of running?

If Hurley was correct, there was only one way to protect the woman he loved.

But what if Stan was wrong?

“What does Irene think?” Rapp said.

A long, tired sigh echoed from the phone. “Irene isn’t able to weigh in on this.”

Rapp’s blood ran cold. “Is she—”

“Alive? Yes. Still in the fight? No. It’s just you and me, kid. Now, are you in or not?”

Rapp stared at the BMW.

He knew it was Greta sitting in the front seat, but that’s not who he saw. He’d been just sixteen when Mary had upended his entire world with that first, shy smile. Some people went their entire lives without finding a soulmate. Rapp had discovered his at sixteen and then lost her at twenty-one. What was he willing to do to ensure that Greta didn’t end up like Mary?

Anything.