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“Did you offer him the cash?” Rapp was referring to the money they’d taken from Abel’s Alpine house.
“One hundred thousand euros. Plus I told him I’d make sure the U.S. government sent some contracts his way. I’ll leave it up to you to tell Irene.”
Rapp nodded. “No problem. I’ll take care of it. What’s the plan?”
“He’s eating dinner tonight with the mayor. Up at the house. Seven o’clock. Higsby said he went to bed at nine last night so he doesn’t expect him to stay up late.” Coleman unfolded a piece of paper. “He gave me a layout of the place and showed me where he sleeps. He also offered a uniform.”
“Good.” Rapp stared straight ahead. “I’ll go in alone as soon as the mayor leaves.”
81
T hey sat and waited. They watched the mayor arrive, or at least they assumed it was him. Who else would travel with a local police escort? The cars pulled up to the main gate just before seven in the evening, just as the sun was disappearing and the light was fading. The temperature began to drop like a stone. They knew it would be a while so they got something to eat and went over the plan one more time. All the gear was stowed and Hackett was sent to the airport to get the plane ready in case they needed to make a hasty departure.
The mayor left shortly after nine, and they roused Tayyib from his drug-induced slumber. He’d already been cleaned up, and put in a fresh set of clothes and a new suit. His blindfold remained on and he was placed in the back of the van with Stroble. Rapp sat in the front passenger seat. Rapp had shaved his beard and cut his thick black hair down to a bristly flattop. He was wearing blue coveralls and a beret. The same as Higsby and his men. Coleman and Stroble were dressed in the same manner.
Rapp turned around and looked at Tayyib as the van wound its way through the narrow streets. He didn’t look too bad considering what he’d been through, but most of his wounds were covered by his clothes. In addition to the shattered right elbow and the nerve damage done to his right foot, Rapp had also sliced all the tendons on Tayyib’s left wrist, rendering his hand useless, and leaving him with only one fully operational limb—his left leg. People reacted differently to drugs and this guy was pretty big. If he came out of it too quick, Rapp didn’t want to have to wrestle with him.
Coleman pulled over before reaching the road that led to the hilltop estate. He pulled out his mobile phone and called Higsby. The Brit answered and Coleman listened to him for fifteen seconds and then said, “We’ll be right there.”
Coleman hung up and looked at Rapp. “He’s praying.”
“Good. Let’s go.”
They’d gone over it all in the plan. There was a small mosque on the property, located closer to the main gate than the residence. Rashid had anywhere from three to six of his own bodyguards near him at all times. Rapp hoped they were all with him. It would make things easier.
“What about the bodyguards?”
“Three of them are standing outside the mosque. The other three he’s not sure about.”
Rapp frowned. He turned around and looked at Stroble, silently communicating that it was Stroble’s job to make sure the other three bodyguards didn’t show up unexpectedly. Stroble nodded. They’d gone over it all in the permission briefing. Wicker was already on site. He’d scaled one of the perimeter walls and had slithered onto the rooftop of the tallest building. From his perch he could cover the entire length of the inner courtyard that led from the main gate to the three-story main house.
The engine groaned as the van continued up the steep hill. Suddenly, Higsby and one of his men were visible in their headlights standing in front of the main gate. Coleman pulled over and turned off the van. Everyone got out, including Tayyib, who practically had to be carried, which was just fine. Stroble got under one arm and Coleman the other. Rapp led the way past Higsby and his man without a word.
The three of them plus Tayyib went through the main gate and took the walkway to the left. Up ahead on the left side of the open-air court Rapp sighted three men in suits. They were all smoking.
Rapp headed straight for them, stopped ten feet away, and in his best British accent said, “This man just showed up at the main gate asking to see Prince Muhammad. He said his name is Nawaf Tayyib.”
The men froze for a moment, their cigarettes dangling in their mouths.
“He keeps saying that the Malik al-Mawt is here.” Angel of death. “The man named Mitch Rapp that you spoke of.”
One cigarette fell to the ground and the other two were thrown. All three men grabbed their guns. Two of them ran forward to grab Tayyib, and the third went into the small mosque to get Rashid. The blindfold was yanked from Tayyib’s eyes and he howled in pain as one of the men grabbed him by his right elbow.
Coleman and Stroble were already retreating, their silenced MP-5 submachine guns aimed down but gripped firmly in both hands. Rapp had only his silenced 9mm Glock and a knife, which were both still holstered. He too began to retreat. His whole plan could fall apart any second and if that happened, the shooting would start and Higsby and his men would be forced to answer some very difficult questions.
Rapp started to step back. One of the men holding Tayyib got on a radio and started yelling in Arabic. Rapp took another step back slowly. Tayyib was trying to talk. Rapp heard his own name mentioned. Five seconds later three men burst through a door on the opposite side of the court and dashed across a path lined with sculpted cypress trees.
“Bees to the honey,” Rapp said to himself as he continued his slow retreat. He looked toward the door to the mosque wondering just what in the hell was taking Rashid so long. Rapp couldn’t wait much longer. He extracted the remote detonator from his pocket. This time rather than using a vest, Rapp had simply wrapped Tayyib’s entire torso in C-4 and covered every square inch with ball bearings. Rapp made it to a pillar and stopped. He looked over his shoulder quickly to check on Coleman and Stroble. They were standing next to each other one more pillar back. Rapp jerked his head for them to get behind it.
He looked back just as the bodyguard reappeared from the mosque and said, “Prince Muhammad wants to know if you’ve checked him for explosives.”
Everybody froze. Rapp hadn’t really thought he’d be able to get away with it twice, but the bomb would still serve its purpose.
The men on each side of Tayyib pulled back his suit coat and the man standing in front placed his hands on Tayyib’s waist. Rapp stepped behind the large stone column and pressed the button on the remote. There was a loud explosion, followed almost immediately by the sound of breaking glass as hundreds of ball bearings were hurled outward by the force of the explosion.
Rapp counted to three and peered back around the column. All six bodyguards were down and Tayyib was in two pieces—head and shoulders pointing toward the door to the mosque and his legs and ass pointing the same way. The other six men, and much of the courtyard, were covered in what used to be Tayyib’s torso and arms.
Rapp stepped over the bodies and went straight for the mosque. He stood next to the door and counted. He knew curiosity would get the best of Rashid and by the time Rapp got to seven Rashid proved him right. His pointy black beard poked its way into view followed by a pair of shocked brown eyes.
