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She had pressed him on the issue once, hinting that he might be just a little too cautious. He had told her that the only reason he was still alive was because he was so cautious. He had gone on to tell her that if any of those people from his not so distant past ever showed up, she'd be very happy that he was armed. At that point she had thrown a hypothetical at him. What if we get married, and have kids? He thought about it for a moment and told her that some things would have to change. The answer had satisfied her at the time.
Rielly took a sip of her beer and looked at Mitch. Leaning in, she asked in a whisper, "You're not carrying a gun, are you?" Rapp pulled his beer away from his lips and said, "No. Just my love gun."
Rielly laughed and then purred like a cat.
Rapp felt a slight twinge of guilt over his answer. But then again she hadn't asked, are you bringing a gun, she had asked are you carrying one. His gun was nowhere near his person. It was carefully packed away in a half dozen pieces, stored in the bowels of the jumbo jet.
They sipped on their beers for a couple more minutes, and when the line was down to just a few people they picked up their carryon bags and walked hand in hand across the waiting area to the gate. Rapp handed over the first class tickets and they proceeded down the jetway with their boarding cards. When they made the left hand turn for the plane they stopped at the end of the line of backed-up passengers. Rapp held Rielly close and looked into her beautiful green eyes. He could tell by the sparkle in her eye and the grin on her face that she was a little popped up from her one beer. After thirty seconds a man came down the jetway and replaced them as the last in line.
Rielly looked up with a telltale smirk on her face and said a little too loudly, "Maybe he's a spy."
Rapp pulled her head into his chest as she giggled louder and louder. All he could do was shake his head and smile. After she calmed down he said, "Get a hold of yourself or they won't let you on board."
"What are you talking about?" Rielly exaggerated her state of intoxication, slurring her words. "They won't let you get on a plane drunk. Its against FAA rules."
"What if I'm drunk on love?" She closed her eyes pursed her lips for a kiss.
Mitch laughed and gave her what she wanted. After that the line moved quickly, and before long they were settled into their first class seats. Anna was next to the window and Mitch was on the aisle. While the plane pushed away from the gate, they got their reading material together. As they taxied over to one of the main runways, Rapp looked out the window and checked the weather. It was at least another hour before sunset, the temperature was in the fifties, and there was no sign of rain. The takeoff should go smoothly.
Anna started paging through one of her magazines and then stopped. She closed it and looked at Mitch. "You never told me what exactly it is that you have to take care of while we're in Milan."
"Just a little bit of business. Nothing that will take up too much time." Rapp opened his book and hoped that Anna would go back to her magazine. Unfortunately, he knew it was wishful thinking.
"What kind of business?"
"Official business."
In a mocking tone Anna lowered her voice and said, "Top secret business."
"That's right, baby." Rapp winked. "Now why don't you just sit back, look pretty and peruse your fashion magazine? I'll take care of everything else."
Rielly expertly jabbed him in the ribs. "Don't give me that crap. I think you can tell me a little more than, 'official business."
" "No, I can't." Mitch said emphatically. They'd been down this road before, and he was tiring of it. He leaned in close to her ear and said, "There are certain things about my job that I will never be able to tell you. I've been up front about it from the start and you said you could deal with it. Now are you going to abide by that or are you going to change the rules on me?"
He was right, and she knew it, but it still pissed her off. "No, I'm not going to change the rules, but I think there are times where you don't need to be so vague. I mean you get all freaked out when I'm fifteen minutes late, and you expect me to just sit in our hotel room in a foreign city while you run off and take care of official business." Rielly leaned in so close her nose touched his cheek. "I mean for Christ's sake, for all I know the damn CIA is sending you over here to kill someone." Rielly moved away and stubbornly folded her arms across her chest.
Eyeing her with caution, Rapp thought about what she'd just said and then had to admit she had a pretty good point. He owed her a better explanation. "I'm sorry. You're right. I have to meet with someone someone I used to work with."
"Will it be dangerous?"
"No." He shook his head and meant it. He would be very cautious, but in truth he wasn't expecting any trouble.
"Does this person know you're coming?"
"No."
Rielly frowned, not sure that she liked the answer. "Is this person someone you can trust?"
"Yes. Very much so." Rapp's words were sincere. "Don't worry, honey. Everything will go fine. I'll take care of it the first day we're there, and then we'll have the rest of the trip all to ourselves."
The plane stopped for a moment, and then the engines came to life. A few seconds later the big jet
began to roll down the tarmac. Rapp reached over and grabbed Annas hand. He kissed the back of it and said, "I love you." Rielly kissed him on the lips and told him the same. As the plane began to lift off the ground Rapp's thoughts turned to the person he would be meeting in Milan. Donatella Rahn was much more than someone he used to work with. She was someone he used to share his bed with. For reasons that had nothing to do with national security he had decided to keep that a secret from Anna. That was all ancient history. It had nothing to do with the situation at hand. Rapp helped rationalize the omission by telling himself that he had never asked her about her ex-boyfriends. This almost worked until he realized that she, as of yet, hadn't flown three thousand miles to have a secret meeting with one of her former lovers.
Rapp didn't like the way the argument was working out so he pushed it from his mind. In and out, he told himself. No big deal. I'll go to dinner with her, ask her who hired her to kill Peter Cameron, and I'll be done with it. Rapp grimaced as he looked out the window and down at his favorite body of water in the whole world. The Chesapeake Bay slid by, while a large container ship worked its way north toward the port of Baltimore. Rapp knew it wasn't going to be that easy. In his heart of hearts, he honed he was just being his paranoid self. For once he wanted something to be easy. All he wanted was a name. The name of the man who had tried to have him killed in Germany, and then he could make things right and get on with his life.
Anna nestled in and rested her head on his shoulder. Rapp kissed the top of her head and took in the soft fragrance of her light chestnut hair. She was worth seeing this thing through to the end. "He would get the name from Donatella, and he would eliminate the problem. Then they could start their family, and he would feel safer knowing that whoever had tried to kill him in Germany was dead. They could do no harm to his family.
