The Last Man mr-13

by Vince Flynn

  “That’s fine, but I want to hear the broad brushstrokes.”

  “When’s your meeting with Taj, and can you get Durrani to attend?”

  “Tomorrow afternoon at three, and I have requested that all three deputies attend, including Nadeem Ashan, who was fired yesterday.”

  “Good. It would really help if you made sure Durrani was in attendance. He knows three of his men are dead. We were listening when Kassar told him. He freaked out.”

  “Considering the importance of the meeting, I think I can make that happen.”

  “Here’s what we’re going to do. We’re going to fly into Jalalabad and then cross into Pakistan via car. The checkpoints are way more lax than the airports. This way we can bring our equipment, and if Kassar makes one wrong move he’s dead. I can’t hold that threat over him if we fly into Islamabad International or Bhutto.”

  “How long is the drive?” Kennedy asked.

  “Four hours, tops,” Hurley answered, “I’ve done it many times. I also have a few guys in Peshawar who can facilitate the border crossing so things go smoothly. It’s the Wild West. With enough guns and money, you can get anything you want.”

  “That doesn’t comfort me.”

  “Irene,” Rapp said, “this shit’s never easy-you know that-but if there’s ever a time where we need to act quickly, this is it. Durrani still thinks he’s safe. We had Kassar check in and tell him that everything is fine.”

  Kennedy asked him to explain what they were going to do after they got to Jalalabad, and when Rapp was done telling her, Kennedy said, “I need to meet this Kassar before I sign off on it.”

  Rapp had expected as much. Kennedy followed him from one plane to the other while Hurley decided to stay outside and smoke a cigarette. Kassar was in the last seat on the starboard side of the plane with his wrists and ankles flexcuffed. He had a bruise on his forehead and some cuts on his arms and hands.

  Knowing what his boss was thinking, Rapp said, “Those are from the car accident. We haven’t laid a hand on him.” One of Coleman’s shooters, Bruno McGraw, was watching the prisoner. Rapp tapped him on the shoulder and told him to take a break.

  Kennedy sat down across from Kassar and said, “Do you know who I am?”

  “Yes, ma’am.”

  “How old are you?”

  “Thirty-six.”

  “And you’ve worked for General Durrani for how long?”

  “Five years.”

  “Why the sudden change of heart?”

  Kassar took a moment to consider his answer. “The general has become a very reckless man. And he does not treat his people very well.” Kassar looked up at Rapp.

  “Go ahead,” Rapp said. “Tell her.”

  “When he gets what he wants out of them, he has a habit of killing them.” Kassar stopped for a second and then added, “And lately I’ve been the one doing the killing for him. I get the feeling he’s running out of uses for me now that he has Mr. Rickman. I know too much… so he is going to get rid of me.”

  “Black Storks?” Kennedy asked, referring to the Pakistani Special Forces’ nickname.

  “Yes… seven years.”

  “And you were recruited to the ISI?”

  “Yes.”

  Kennedy looked at his haircut and his clothes. His suit was torn and bloody but it was a nice cut. “Where did you grow up?”

  “Karachi.”

  “Slums?”

  “Yes.”

  “And the army gave you a new life?”

  “Correct.”

  “Religion?”

  “Islam,” Kassar said, without any passion.

  “Not very serious?”

  “No.”

  She wasn’t sure if she could believe him even though he sounded sincere. “So what do you want out of this?”

  Kassar looked nervously at Rapp and said, “My life.”

  “That’s a good start, but you surely have other hopes and aspirations?”

  “I don’t think Pakistan is really an option for me anymore.”

  She understood. “What about America?”

  Kassar got a faraway look in his eye. “America would be nice.”

  “And what do you think of Mitch’s plan to go in and get Mr. Rickman and General Durrani?”

  “Get them… you mean we are taking them with us?”

  Rapp intervened. “She means kill.” Rapp didn’t want this any more complicated than it already was.

  “I think it’s a good plan.”

  “All right.” Kennedy stared at him for a long time and finally said, “Vazir, I don’t treat my people like General Durrani. If you do a good job on this, and everyone makes it out alive, I will make sure you are taken care of. I might even have a job for you, but only if you want it. If you don’t, we’ll set you up with a new identity and some money and you can start your life over. Does that sound good?”

  “Yes.” Kassar nodded. “It sounds very good.”

  “Okay.” Kennedy pointed at the flex cuffs and nodded to Rapp. “No more need for these.”

  After Rapp had cut the plastic cuffs with his knife, Kennedy shook Kassar’s hand and said, “Good luck, Vazir, I look forward to getting to know you better when you return.”

  Rapp followed Kennedy off the plane and walked her across the tarmac. They stopped midway between the two planes, where Rapp asked, “What’d you think?”

  “It’s impossible to know someone’s heart after talking to him for a few minutes.”

  “Yeah, I know, but what’s your impression?”

  “I think he’s worth the risk.” Kennedy looked back at Rapp’s plane and then added, “But if he makes one wrong move, if you get even the slightest whiff, I want you to put him down. Are we clear?”

  “Crystal.”

  “Good.” Kennedy kissed him on the cheek. “Good luck and don’t do anything stupid.”

  Chapter 56

  Inter-Services Intelligence HQ, Islamabad, Pakistan

  Kennedy entered Air Force General Ahmed Taj’s office with Mike Nash, who had flown in from Bagram. She had briefed him on Kassar back in the embassy’s secure conference room. Taj, Durrani, and Nassir were all decked out in their military uniforms, while Ashan was in a suit. Kennedy was pleased to see that Ashan was there, but noted that he did not look well.

  The office was a grandiose affair, left over from the Brits, no doubt. It was easily four times bigger than Kennedy’s. The walls and ceiling were paneled in a dark wood and there were three large stone fireplaces. Bookcases dominated every wall and there were two flat-screen monitors, one by the large conference table and the other one by Taj’s desk. Taj and his three deputies were standing near the fireplace to their right. Kennedy walked over and said hello to each man.

  When she got to Ashan she said, “Nadeem, I am sorry to hear of your difficulties. One of the things I would like to clear up today is your situation.” “It’s a travesty,” Durrani announced passionately.

  Kennedy looked at the Judas to her left. She had had ample time on the plane to review the entire Rickman affair and analyze the various motives of Rickman and Durrani. As for Rickman, she had a few guesses about why he’d decided to become a traitor, but Durrani was clear-cut. He wanted Taj’s job and he wanted Ashan and every other moderate out of his way. He would use Rickman’s information to bolster his status and within a year or two he would be running the ISI and all of its clandestine operations.

  Taj stepped forward with a pained expression on his face. “Director Kennedy, I must caution you. Nadeem is only here as a favor from our president to yours. He no longer works at the ISI and has no official capacity here today.”

  “Yes, I find it all rather interesting. I think your intelligence agency may have been played the same way as mine was, but we will discuss that later.”

  “Yes,” Taj said, not having a clue what Kennedy meant. “Please sit.” Taj directed her to a massive leather couch that could seat six adults. It was centered on the fireplace, with couches that
ran perpendicular off each end. Durrani and Ashan sat on the couch to the right and Nassir and Nash sat on the other couch.

  Taj asked Kennedy if she’d like some tea. She declined and withdrew a briefing folder, signaling to everyone that this was all about business.

  “This problem with your embassy,” Taj winced, “is very bad for our relations.”

  “I agree,” Kennedy offered quickly.

  “Then you should hand those four men over,” Durrani said, as if it was the only option.

  Kennedy ignored Durrani and directed her remarks at General Taj. “I don’t like this strife between our two countries, but something is afoot here, and until we figure out what is going on, those four men will be afforded the safety of the sovereign territory of the United States of America.”

  Durrani laughed at the preposterous claim.

  “General,” Kennedy said, turning to Durrani, “surely you don’t dispute the fact that the American Embassy is sovereign U.S. territory?”

  “No, but I don’t think the clerics will acknowledge you the same fact.”

  “Then why don’t you explain it to them rather than use your political affairs officers to whip them into a frenzy?”

  Durrani kept his cool. “I’m sorry, Director Kennedy, but you are misinformed.”

  “I don’t think so, General, but you and I will agree to disagree, as we usually do.” Kennedy opened her file and pulled out a series of photos. Like a card dealer, she tossed three sets on the table, one in front of Durrani and Ashan, the second in front of Taj, and the third in front of Nash and Nassir.

  “You are all familiar with the abduction, interrogation, and murder of one of my men last week in Afghanistan?” They all nodded and Kennedy said, “A second attempt was made on the life of another one of my people. This was the episode in which twenty-one police officers were killed. It turned out they had been ordered to attack my men by General Qayem, who has since disappeared.” Kennedy pointed at the photos. “These two men, one of them was killed in the attack and the other we are unable to locate. Do any of you recognize either of them?”

  No one answered, so Kennedy said, “According to Afghan intelligence, these two men are ISI assets.”

  “What are you trying to imply?” Durrani asked angrily.

  “I’m not trying to imply anything. I’m just trying to get some answers. Please, by all means show these photos around and see if any of your assets have gone rogue on you.”

  “This is preposterous,” Durrani said. “You are merely trying to distract us from the fact that despite being our supposed ally you hold four Pakistani citizens whom you have recruited to spy against us in your embassy.”

  “I’m not arguing that point, General, I’m just trying to find out who launched a coordinated attack against my Clandestine Service last week.”

  Durrani threw his hands up in frustration while Taj said, “I’m sorry, Director Kennedy, but we have no knowledge of what you are talking about.”

  “Maybe… maybe not. I have another interesting piece of information for you.” Kennedy retrieved the copies of Special Agent Wilson’s affidavits with Herr Obrecht. She doled out three sets of copies and said, “Have any of you heard of the Swiss bank Sparkasse Schaffhausen?”

  Ashan’s face lit up. “That’s the bank where I supposedly have a million dollars deposited courtesy of your government.”

  “I thought I’d heard that. Well, apparently this same bank has accounts for the now deceased Mr. Rickman, and another one of my key people, even though I know for a fact that my people never opened any accounts at this bank, or should say I know Mr. Rapp never opened an account at this bank, but I can’t say the same for Mr. Rickman.”

  “Why is that?” Durrani asked.

  “Because he’s dead. I have no way to prove that he didn’t.” Kennedy turned her attention back to Taj, saying, “The point is, we think this bank has been used to make certain people at the CIA look corrupt when in fact they are not. This disinformation was passed on to the FBI in an effort to jump-start a criminal investigation against the CIA. Fortunately, other elements within the FBI believe this is part of the same plot that involved kidnapping Mr. Rickman and the attempted murder of Mr. Rapp. I find it more than a little strange that this is the same bank that Deputy General Ashan was supposedly storing his illgotten gains in.”

  “I’ve never heard of this bank.” Taj said. “Have any of you?” The three deputies all shook their heads. “It is a rather strange coincidence. Why would someone want to frame Mr. Rickman, Mr. Rapp, and Ashan?”

  “That’s a very good question, General.”

  “Have you been able to talk to the bank?”

  “No, we have not. I sent some people to Zurich late Friday, and they have had a very difficult time tracking down Herr Obrecht, the man whose name is listed on all three accounts.” Kennedy paused and then added, “There was one strange development, however.” She opened her file for the third time and pulled out more photos. “My people were parked in front of Herr Obrecht’s country villa when a car with four men pulled up. The details are a little sketchy, but a chase ensued and then a gunfight.” Kennedy tossed the photos of three dead men on the table. “A fourth man escaped and we were unable to track him down, but we have a good description of him. He had black hair, was darkskinned, with dark eyes, and he, well,” Kennedy pointed at the photos, “he looked like these three men.” Kennedy cocked her head to the side and asked, “What nationality would you say these men are, General Taj?”

  The director general of the ISI scooped up the photos and stared at them while a layer of perspiration formed on his forehead. After several painful moments he cleared his throat and said, “They look Pakistani.”

  “And why would they be in Switzerland trying to talk to Herr Obrecht? Did you send men to talk to Herr Obrecht?”

  Taj was embarrassed beyond anything he had ever experienced. “If you will excuse me, Director Kennedy, I think we will need to continue this tomorrow. I need to speak in private with my deputies right now.”

  “By all means, General. If you need me, I’ll be at the embassy.”

  Chapter 57

  Bahria Town, Pakistan

  As Hurley had promised, the border crossing had been uneventful. The two dusty, dented late-model Toyota 4Runners made their way through the mountain pass and down the A1, through Peshawar, and into Islamabad in three hours and forty-seven minutes. Rapp drove the lead vehicle, with Kassar in the front passenger seat and Hurley and Dumond in back. Coleman and three of his men followed in the second vehicle. Everyone was dressed in local garb. They were traveling with several hundred thousand dollars in cash, and if they were stopped they weren’t going to try to get cute and claim they were working for an international aid organization. They were weapons merchants and they had plenty of samples to show any border agents or Army personnel who were interested.

  As it turned out, they burned through just ten thousand dollars in cash, using Hurley’s contacts at the borders. After that, they moved unmolested with all of the trucks that were busy carrying supplies back and forth between Pakistan and Afghanistan. They arrived in the nation’s capital shortly after one in the afternoon. They had worked on the plan while in flight from Germany to Jalalabad. Coleman and Hurley had gotten into a heated argument with Rapp over the plan, but Rapp had held his ground. Trying to get the entire team past the guards and into Bahria Town would raise too much attention. Kassar was adamant that this would not work. Hurley said that was bullshit, and Kassar spent the better part of a half hour trying to prove the unprovable.

  Rapp, never known for his patience, finally put an end to it. The best chance for success was for him to be smuggled into the compound in the back of Kassar’s Range Rover. The guards never searched his car. Wicker could take up a sniper position a half mile from the compound in the foothills just outside Bahria’s fence line. Dumond could run aerial with one of the minidrones and the rest of the team would have to roll as a Quick Reaction For
ce.

  When they picked up Kassar’s truck in Humak, Hurley tried to state his case one more time. “Let me be the one who goes in.”

  “Why?” As soon as Rapp asked the question he knew what Hurley would say.

  “I’m going to be dead in six months.”

  “Again with the six months? It won’t work this time. I have a good handle on Kassar, and although you’re no slouch I’m a little better at this stuff than you are.”

  “Bullshit.”

  “And besides, what happens if you have one of your coughing fits while he’s talking to the guards? You’ll probably need a smoke… that would blow the whole thing.”

  The old spook held up a pack of Nicorette gum. “Funny.”

  “Look at you. You’re like a Boy Scout… prepared for everything.” Rapp grabbed his gun bag and tactical vest and transferred them from the Toyota to the back of Kassar’s truck.

  “Why do you have to be so stubborn?” Hurley asked as a last effort.

  “I think I got it from the dickhead who trained me.” Rapp checked one of the pockets on his vest and then slid it on, saying, “Listen, we don’t need to make this complicated. Irene has people watching Durrani. She’s going to text us updates and you are going to give me radio updates,” Rapp tapped his headset, “in case I’m in a spot where I can’t look at my phone. There are two bodyguards at the compound when Durrani’s not there. I can handle a couple of bodyguards who are bored out of their minds.”

  “But why not put another person in the backseat?”

  “It’s not worth the risk. They key is to get in without anyone knowing what’s going on. Then it’s easy.” Rapp could tell, Hurley was still not buying his plan. “Just keep an eye on Durrani. If he comes back with more than the usual number of men, then you guys might have to bust your way through the secondary gate. Otherwise, I’ve got it handled.” Rapp started to climb into the back of the Range Rover. “And remember, it’s just like you said the other day. We’re all dying.” Rapp pulled up the tailgate and then reached up and started to close the back hatch.