The Last Man (47 page)

Rapp radioed Hurley and told him he was in. A few seconds later he heard the nurse moving down the hallway and the front door closing. Rapp came up the last flight of stairs, where Kassar was waiting for him. He pointed down the hallway and with a nervous look, said, “He has his dog with him.”

“The big Rottweiler?”

Kassar nodded.

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 checked 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?”

“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 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 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 tempted 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.”

Durrani spun. “Where is he?”

Raza pointed to the smaller of the two guesthouses.

Durrani started back into the house and then decided he did not want to bother with the tunnels. Besides, it was time he took care of something. He marched back into the courtyard and yelled for his men to follow him.

Rapp was standing in the kitchen watching the feed from the drone. In addition to the video, Hurley was on the radio acting as play-by-play announcer. When Durrani exited his car and started for the main house, Kassar explained that he usually entered the house and then came over through the tunnel. When Durrani came back into the courtyard and started gathering his men, the coms exploded with chatter.

“Everyone calm down!” Rapp barked into his lip mike. He swung his rifle around and handed Kassar his suppressed Glock 19. “Fourteen rounds left. He’s on his way over with a half dozen men.”

Kassar hustled across the foyer to the living room where a magazine and ashtray were waiting for him. He sat on the couch and placed the gun close against his right thigh. Rapp retreated to the pantry on the far side of the kitchen and left the door cracked. “Everyone hold your positions.”

“We’re blind,” Hurley announced.

“I’m fine. I’ll call if I need help.”

“It might be too late by then.”

Rapp couldn’t reply, because he heard the front door open and then the scuffle of shoes and boots on the marble floor. With his rifle gripped in both hands, he took a look through the crack. He counted six men plus Durrani.

“What in the hell are you doing here?” Durrani demanded. Rapp could see a pistol in his hand. “I told you not to come back here.”

“I had no problem getting out of Switzerland. In fact the only problem I had was with those amateurs you made me bring along.”

“They were good men and you got them killed.”

“They got themselves killed.”

“Do you understand the problem you have caused? I just left a meeting with the director of the CIA. She has photos of my men and she gave them to Taj.”

“I told you not to send them. I could have handled it by myself.”

Rapp watched Durrani raise his pistol. “I no longer have a need for you.”

Rapp’s right hand pulled the door open. His rifle came up as he moved to the left. The red dot found the back of the first man’s head and Rapp squeezed the trigger. The spit of the round leaving the barrel was followed by the man’s head exploding across the foyer. Before anyone could react, two more men were down. Rapp skipped Durrani and shot the next man. The last two men were reacting to the shock of their comrade’s heads exploding before their very eyes. Their rifles were swinging in Rapp’s direction, but not fast enough. Rapp shot the fifth man in the face, and just before he could take out the sixth man, a bullet whistled past Rapp’s left shoulder. He pulled the trigger a sixth time and the man collapsed to the floor, blood flowing from the back of his head.

Rapp aimed his rifle at a shocked Durrani and said, “I’m clear. Six tangos down. Slick,” Rapp said to Wicker, “anyone with a gun moves toward my position, take them out.”

“How dare you.” Durrani stood shaking in the middle of the foyer, six dead bodyguards at his feet. “This is an—”

Rapp had no desire to listen to any empty threats, so he lowered his rifle’s muzzle and shot Durrani in the left knee. The general looked as if a puppeteer had cut his strings. He collapsed to the floor, landing in an ever-expanding pool of blood.

“I am the last man you should have fucked with, you stupid prick.”

“You don’t understand . . .”

Rapp stopped listening to Durrani as his team started chattering over his earpiece. It sounded like Wicker was engaging at least one target. They needed to get moving, and Rapp didn’t really care to listen to Durrani, so he raised his rifle’s muzzle and was about to squeeze the trigger when Kassar said, “Wait.”

Kassar stepped over the bodies and looked down at Durrani. “I always knew it would come to this one day.”

“I was good to you,” Durrani said, clutching his knee.

“You were just about to kill me.”

“But,” was all Durrani could manage to say.

With calm in his eyes and a steady hand, Kassar said, “I no longer have any use for you.” He then sent a single bullet into his employer’s head.

Rapp took note of the clean shot.

Kassar turned the pistol around in his hand and offered it to Rapp.

Rapp shook his head and started moving toward the staircase. “You keep it.”

Chapter 59

Aurora Highlands, Virginia

Wilson was feeling a little better. It was Monday night and his Redskins were up by seventeen points against their hated rival the Eagles with less than five minutes to go. In Wilson’s opinion, there was no worse fan on the planet than a Philadelphia Eagles fan. They even managed to make Yankees fans seem like model citizens. Wilson took the Redskins’ advantage as a sign that things were looking up. He checked his watch and finished his beer. It was time for another one of his late-night meetings.

He grabbed the leash and found the dog waiting at the front door, which he didn’t like, as he didn’t want the damn mutt getting used to this. His wife pushed her chair away from the desk but didn’t bother standing.

“Isn’t this nice? I love the fact that you two are bonding.”

“Let’s not go overboard here.”

She stood and gave him a kiss, placing her hand on his stomach.

“You’re going to lose this little belly if you keep this up.”

Wilson wasn’t aware that he had a belly. He patted himself. “I have a gut?”

“Just a teeny one,” she said, holding her thumb and forefinger an inch apart. She kissed him again. “I’m going to take a shower and then climb into bed with nothing on and wait for you to get back.” She started up the stairs and said, “Don’t be too long.”

Wilson decided things were definitely looking up. The temperature had already dropped into the forties, and Wilson decided that he and Ferris were going to have to come up with a different way to meet. He was getting sick of walking this stupid dog in the cold night air. He took his usual route, wishing they could meet in an office on Capitol Hill. He stopped at the prescribed corner and checked his watch. He was on time. Thirty seconds later, he said, “Where the fuck are you guys? I’m freezing my ass off.”

At the far end of the street he saw a man standing under a streetlight. A few seconds later the man made his way down the block. When he was within speaking distance, Wilson said, “You’re late.”

Darren Sickles looked over both shoulders and said, “I wanted to make sure I wasn’t followed.”

Wilson wanted to tell him that no one gave enough of a shit to have him followed, but he got the impression that Sickles had a very fragile ego, so he kept that thought to himself. The Town Car pulled up a minute later, and Wilson had Sickles get in first. It was a little snug with the three of them in back. Instead of waiting for Ferris to ask for the dog, Wilson simply handed him over again.

“Mr. Sickles,” Ferris started, “Joel tells me you’re not very happy with your current employer.”

“No, sir.”

Wilson looked out the window at the passing houses. “He said Rapp threatened to kill him.”

“I’d prefer to hear it from Mr. Sickles, if you don’t mind.”

I’m just trying to speed things along, Wilson thought. I’ve got a naked woman waiting for me.

“Yes . . . he threatened my life, among other things,” Sickles said.

“What else?”

“Pretty much every nasty thing in the book.”

“When was this?”

“After Joe Rickman was kidnapped. Do you know who he is?”

“Most certainly.”

“Well, Rapp blamed me for that . . . said I was drinking the administration’s Kool-Aid on reintegration.”

Ferris smiled. He couldn’t wait to get Sickles to give this answer under oath in front of all the cameras. “But most important, he threatened your life?”

“Yes.”

“And what are your feelings about the missing funds?”

“With Rapp and Rickman, you mean?”