by Vince Flynn
Rapp gently lifted an overturned lamp and swore a little less cautiously when it snapped in half. Anna was immersed in the task of cleaning up her bedroom, well out of earshot. It wasn’t hard to pick up on the mood of her mother, and the kid was perceptive enough to lie low.
He picked up the pieces of the lamp and headed outside to toss it on the growing pile of unsalvageable items. His phone began to ring as he started back, and a quick glance confirmed that it was the heavily encrypted number that had gotten him into all this.
“Yes, sir,” he said, turning and walking toward the shade of the wall that surrounded the property.
“How are you doing?” President Alexander asked.
“Good. I think Mas got more beat up digging me out than I did getting buried.”
“I swear you have nine lives, Mitch.”
“Yes, sir,” he said, not mentioning that by his count he was already on eleven.
“Look, I wanted to personally give you an update on Iraq. The guys we sent to confirm your kills started taking fire and I pulled them out. They tagged the spot, though, and we dropped a bunker buster on it. If anyone survived the collapse, I can guarantee you they’re dead now.”
“Unless there was another exit.”
“Let’s just call it a win for now, okay, Mitch? All evidence suggests that you killed Halabi and most of the ISIS brass.”
Rapp wasn’t so sure. He’d been burned too many times to count on unconfirmed kills. Until someone scraped DNA from the shit stain that used to be Sayid Halabi, he’d reserve judgment.
“Yes, sir.”
There was a pause that felt too long for a man who had every second of his day mapped out ahead of time. “I wanted to apologize face-to-face, but Irene says she’s not sure when you’re coming back.”
“Apology, sir?”
“I didn’t want to turn my back on you, Mitch. Sure as hell not for the Saudis. You know how I feel about them.”
Rapp walked to his car and unlatched the trunk, pulling a large, garishly wrapped box from it. “You gave me fair warning, sir. I wasn’t under any illusions about how this was going to go down.”
“Still, when I say I owe you, I mean it. The meeting we had . . .”
Unwilling to talk about it even on an encrypted line, his voice faded. “Well, let’s just say it wasn’t my finest hour.”
“What meeting?”
“Thanks, Mitch. And not just from me. King Faisal also wants me to convey his gratitude.”
“So he’s going to thank me through back channels while he quietly throws me under a bus at home?”
“Oh, it’s worse than that. We’re going to call what happened in Iraq a joint operation. And I know how you like your anonymity, so we needed someone to give the credit to.”
“Nassar,” Rapp said, starting back for the house.
“He dies a hero and the king doesn’t have to admit that a traitor got that close to him. Now isn’t the time for him to look weak. You probably know that better than I do.”
“Another half-assed political accommodation stacked on top of a bunch of other half-assed political accommodations.”
“No one’s ever summarized my job more eloquently. Enjoy your time off, Mitch.”
The line disconnected and Rapp set a course for Anna’s room. It was still a complete disaster, and she was sitting on the bed, reading.
“How’s it going?”
“Done!” She waved a hand around at the hard work she imagined she’d completed.
“Looks good,” he said, stepping inside. “I got you something.”
“What is it?” she asked, looking over the book and eyeing the box under his arm.
“Why don’t you open it and find out?”
She bounded off the bed and tore into the box, shredding the paper and pulling out a squirt gun nearly half her height.
“It’s for those closet monsters.”
“Awesome! Can I fill it?”
“Sure. Doesn’t do much good unless it’s loaded.”
She darted into the bathroom and he heard a clank that sounded suspiciously like a toilet lid going up.”
“The sink, Anna. Use the sink.”
“Okay,” she said, sounding a little exasperated.
When she reappeared, she was struggling under the weight of her new weapon.
“You think he might be in there now?”
“It’s a she. And I don’t know.”
Rapp slunk to the side of the closet, pressing his back against the wall and giving her a silent countdown as she lined up on it.
He threw open the door, but before she could take down her target, a shout froze them both.
“STOP!”
What was it about mothers and their uncanny timing? Rapp’s own had been the same way. The second he and his brother had lit a fuse, tied something to the cat, or climbed onto the roof, she would magically appear.
Rapp could see Claudia in his peripheral vision but kept his eyes locked on Anna, who was trying not to laugh.
“Is there not enough damage for the two of you? Really? Since I can’t count on you to help, could you at least not make more work for me?”
Apparently her mood hadn’t improved.
“We were taking out a closet monster,” Anna explained.
“Your teddy bear is in the closet.”
“Collateral damage,” she responded.
Rapp winced. Where had she picked that up?
“Put the gun down,” Claudia ordered. “We’re going to dinner. Somewhere nice. And we’re going to have a good time. Is that clear?”
Anna bolted for the bathroom to clean up and slammed the door behind her. Rapp tried to squeeze past Claudia, but she caught him by the arm. “Collateral damage? I look forward to having a long conversation about that later.”
ABOUT THE AUTHORS
#1 New York Times bestselling author Vince Flynn (1966–2013) created one of contemporary fiction’s most popular heroes: CIA counterterrorist agent Mitch Rapp, featured in thirteen of Flynn’s acclaimed political thrillers. All of his novels are New York Times bestsellers, including his stand-alone debut novel, Term Limits. The Mitch Rapp story begins with American Assassin, followed by Kill Shot, Transfer of Power, The Third Option, Separation of Power, Executive Power, Memorial Day, Consent to Kill, Act of Treason, Protect and Defend, Extreme Measures, Pursuit of Honor, The Last Man, The Survivor, Order to Kill, and Enemy of the State. American Assassin will be released as a major film in 2017.
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Kyle Mills is the #1 New York Times bestselling author of fifteen political thrillers, including the The Survivor for Vince Flynn and The Patriot Attack for Robert Ludlum. He initially found inspiration from his father, the former director of Interpol, and still draws on his contacts in the intelligence community to give his books such realism. Avid outdoor athletes, he and his wife have lived in Jackson Hole, Wyoming, for over twenty years. Visit his website at KyleMills.com.
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Don't miss any of Mitch Rapp's daring exploits!
Term Limits
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Transfer of Power
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The Third Option
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Separation of Power
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Executive Power
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Memorial Day
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Consent to Kill
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Act of Treason
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Protect and Defend
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Extreme Measures
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Pursuit of Ho
nor
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American Assassin
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Kill Shot
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The Last Man
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The Survivor
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Order to Kill
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Novels by Vince Flynn
The Last Man
Kill Shot
American Assassin
Pursuit of Honor
Extreme Measures
Protect and Defend
Act of Treason
Consent to Kill
Memorial Day
Executive Power
Separation of Power
The Third Option
Transfer of Power
Term Limits
And by Kyle Mills
The Survivor
Order to Kill
Enemy of the State
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ISBN 978-1-4767-8351-2
ISBN 978-1-4767-8354-3 (ebook)
