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“Well, none of the neighbors seemed to mind it when I took Duke for a walk around the block earlier.”
“You took Duke for a walk in that T-shirt?” The smile was gone.
Liz stared at him for a while and then smiled. “No, I didn’t, but if you keep giving me shit about it, I might.”
Michael nodded. “You win. But I don’t think it’s a good idea for you to keep raiding the baby shower presents. If someone sees you wearing the kid’s clothes, they’ll really think you’ve lost it.”
Liz smiled. “Another funny one. Let me check my e-mail, and then we’ll go.”
She hit the AOL icon, and the computer started the dial-up. After a series of squeals and whistles, the laptop beeped and the computer announced, “You’ve got mail.” Liz clicked on the mailbox icon, and a second later the electronic message appeared on her screen.
Dear Liz,
I hope all is well. I need you and Michael to do me a favor, and please don’t ask any questions. Call Bella at the cottage, and tell her you really need to talk to her. Whatever you do, don’t mention my involvement or name over the phone. Something has gone wrong, and I need her to stay with you for a few days. When she gets to your house, you can tell her that I’m safe, that I apologize, and I will explain everything when I get home. Under no circumstance are you to let her go back to the cottage or her apartment. Tell Michael to exercise caution and call Scott C. if he needs help.
Sincerely,
Syracuse
P.S. I know all about Seamus, Michael, and Scott C.
She could barely believe what she was reading. Bella was Annabella Rielly, her best friend, and Syracuse had to be Anna’s boyfriend, Mitch Rapp. She feared she might know who Scott C. was, and if she was right, just how in the hell did Mitch Rapp know about that dreaded chapter in her family’s history? Liz looked up from the screen in disbelief, her perfect Saturday afternoon ruined.
“Honey, I think you’d better take a look at this.”
Peter Cameron sat in one of the plush leather seats of the brand new Cessna 750 Citation X executive jet. The plane could be configured to carry up to twelve passengers, but for this trip there were only four, not counting the pilots. A woman and two men were sitting at a small table studying maps and photographs. Cameron had withheld the Jansens’ full profiles. The less these people knew, the better. As far as Cameron was concerned, the less everybody knew, the better. This problem needed to be dealt with swiftly. Like the first twenty-four hours following the outbreak of a disease, this next day was crucial. Nip it in the ass now, and everything would be fine. Leave any unfinished business on the table, and things could spin out of control.
One of the men got up and came over. He sat down across from Cameron so he could study him. His name was Gus Villaume. To a few people in his line of work, he was known as the Frog. A French Canadian from Montréal, Villaume had worked for the CIA in the seventies and early eighties as an agent inside the Dassault Aviation Company. In 1986, he had decided to break out on his own and work as a freelancer. The money was much better, and his work hours were whatever he chose.
Villaume studied Cameron with his hawklike eyes. The Frog had wondered about this Cameron for some time. He was competent enough but a little too quick to use force. He was a yes man, Villaume guessed. Someone else was giving him orders. The way the former civil servant threw money around, it was obvious that his boss was an individual with substantial financial assets. The unknown identity of Cameron’s employer was beginning to bother Villaume. When working among thieves, knowledge of that sort could be used as insurance if things got bad.
Villaume stroked the edges of his black mustache and asked Cameron, “So, who are these two individuals?”
“Nobody. They were asked to do a job, they blew it, and now they have to pay.”
Villaume noticed how Cameron used a casual tone as if these people were being fired for lack of performance. “So now they die?”
“They knew what they were getting into.”
Holding up two black-and-white photographs, Villaume asked, “This is all you can give me? No background on them?”
“You don’t need any more information. It’s going to be an easy job. In and out.”
Villaume studied Cameron’s face. “I’ll be the judge of how easy the job will be.”
“If it’ll make you feel any better, I’m planning on taking the shots.”
This caused a smile to fall across the other man’s face. Leaning back, he said, “Really?”
“Yes, really. Why does that amuse you so much?”
“I’ve never seen you get your hands dirty before, let alone kill someone.”
Cameron let his displeasure show. “There’s a lot you don’t know about me, Gus.”
“I’m sure there is, but all the same, I’d like to know more about these two targets.”
“All you need to know is that this will be easy, and you’re going to be paid well.” Cameron’s voice had
