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“I went back and checked on the two guys. It turns out they were DGSE. One of them was shot in the face and dead, but the other guy was alive and in trouble, so I got my med kit out and patched him up as best I could and then I cleared the area.”
In Stansfield’s mind the scales had just tipped in Rapp’s favor. He breathed an inward sigh of relief and was about to ask a question, but Kennedy beat him to it.
“You said Victor was stupid. How so?”
“I think the man is stupid in general. But it’s worse than that. He’s dangerous. I think the guy is nuts, and what I can’t believe is that you didn’t wash him out a long time ago. I’m a step above a rookie, and I could see he was a train wreck from a mile away. How in hell did you miss it?”
“That’s a conversation for another day,” Kennedy said. “What was your point about him being stupid?”
“You guys will have no problem getting your hands on the police report. The ballistics will back up everything I just said. Victor uses a .45 caliber, I use a 9 millimeter, and the Directorate guys were carrying FNP .357 Sigs. His story won’t hold up. They recovered the body of one of our guys, and you’re going to find out he was shot with a .45 at near point-blank range. You’re also going to find out that both of the DGSE agents were shot with a .45 . . . Victor’s .45. And if you bother asking whoever patched Victor up, they’re going to tell you Victor was shot by a 9 millimeter. My 9 millimeter. He thought I was dead, and he made a huge mistake.”
It certainly did seem that way. Stansfield considered all of this. Rapp was right, they could get their hands on the police report and the information would back up one version or the other, but that might take a few days, and Stansfield wanted to put this thing to rest sooner than that. “You said you had a witness. Someone we could trust. Are we going to get a chance to talk to this person?”
“Nobody followed you guys?”
“No,” Stansfield answered.
“You’re not carrying any beacons or transmitters?” Rapp asked the question only halfheartedly. He didn’t have the skill or the technology to check their answer. He nudged past Kennedy and looked up and down the street one last time to make sure there weren’t any goons lurking about. There were none. He moved away from the window toward the middle of the apartment and called out. “It’s clear. You can come out now.” Rapp watched the door to one of the bedrooms open. Greta stepped into the hallway and Rapp turned to see the expression on Stansfield’s face. It appeared to be a mix of relief and shock.
“Greta,” Stansfield said in sheer disbelief. His mouth asked, “How in the world did you get involved in this?” while his brain was wondering how he would explain this to his dear friend Herr Ohlmeyer.
“Hello, Thomas,” Greta said, stopping at Rapp’s side. “Everything he said is true. I stood at that very window last night and watched this Victor man who works for you gun down five people. He is an animal. A sick dog.”
Kennedy was completely thrown. She was supposed to know every detail of Rapp’s life, yet she hadn’t the foggiest idea who this pretty blonde was. Turning to Stansfield, she asked, “Who is this woman?”
“She is my good friend Herr Carl Ohlmeyer’s granddaughter.” Stansfield turned his eyes back to Rapp and Greta. It was not lost on him that Greta had reached out and was holding Rapp’s arm. They were a couple. More than that, they were in love. One of his best friends, one of the most powerful, civili
zed men he knew, was going to have to be told that his precious granddaughter was dating one of the most dangerous men on the planet. A man Stansfield had helped create. A man Stansfield had brought into the Ohlmeyer home. The news was not going to be well received.
CHAPTER 45
THEY rode back to the Embassy in the black Mercedes sedan that Kennedy had been driving. There was a brief, heated exchange over who would drive, but Rapp had won out when Stansfield intervened. He was trained to drive very aggressively if need be. Rapp wasn’t crazy about taking Greta back to the Embassy, but Stansfield would have it no other way. The man was unusually shaken by the revelation of their relationship. Rapp and Greta had both argued that Greta could easily drive back to Switzerland and no one would be the wiser.
Stansfield was vehement. “I’m going to have a lot of explaining to do to your grandfather. He is not going to be happy. He would never forgive me if something happened to you, and I would never forgive myself. The safest place for you is at the Embassy. When things have settled down I will take you back to Zurich personally.”
They stopped at Greta’s car, grabbed their bags, and were on their way. A few minutes out from the Embassy Kennedy called the watch desk, gave them their ETA, and told them to have the gate open. Paris wasn’t Moscow, but considering how often Paul Fournier’s name had been popping up, it was worth taking a few extra precautions. They rolled through the big gate without incident and proceeded into the Embassy’s underground parking garage.
After Rapp and Greta had grabbed their bags from the trunk, Stansfield said, “Irene, would you please take Greta to see Gene? Tell him I said to make her comfortable. She might be staying the night.” Gene was the CIA station chief.
As they entered the small underground lobby off the parking garage, Greta stopped and asked Mitch, “When am I going to see you again?”
Rapp glanced at Stansfield and said, “We have some work to do. I’m sure I’ll see you tonight if not sooner.”
Greta got on her toes and kissed him on the cheek. “Be careful.” And then, turning to Stansfield, she said, “If anything happens to him, I am going to be very upset.”
Stansfield gave her a disinterested nod. “Mr. Rapp is quite capable of taking care of himself.”
The men watched as the ladies entered the elevator. Kennedy had Rapp’s bag. When the doors closed Stansfield said, “Follow me.”
“Where are we going?”
“Downstairs.” When they were both in the stairwell, Stansfield asked, “How long have you been seeing her?”
Rapp followed two steps behind. “Almost a year.”
“Do you love her?”
“That’s kind of personal, boss.”
