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“More than you will ever want to admit.” Gould took his shirt-sleeve to wipe the blood from his mouth.
“I don’t get off on the kill. I don’t take bags of cash to do my job. I kill bad guys like you because you not in it makes the world a better place.”
Gould wasn’t buying a word. “You’re lying to yourself. No one can be as good as you and not love it.”
“You’re wrong. It’s a job that I happen to be good at, but I don’t get off on it like you do. I don’t need the challenge. All I’m trying to do is rid the world of assholes like you . . . something I should have done when I found you on that beach. Do you realize the gift I gave you?”
Gould straightened himself and stared at the surface of the table, refusing to answer Rapp’s question.
“You know what . . . they don’t deserve you.” Rapp walked back around the table and pulled out the photos of Gould’s wife and daughter. He placed them directly in front of Gould and then while walking back around the table he drew a second, smaller pistol from the small of his back. “This is your moment of truth.” Rapp pressed the barrel into the back of Gould’s
head.
Maslick’s voice came over the speakers. “Mitch, the interrogation is over.”
Hurley looked at the mirrored glass, knowing Maslick was on the other side ready to call Kennedy. “Put that fucking phone down right now, Joe.” Now Hurley had a gun in his hands as well. “We’re going to settle this right now. Either this piece of shit is going to tell us everything he knows, or we’re going to execute his ass, and if anyone tries to stop us I’m going to put a bullet in his head.”
Rapp forced Gould to look at the photos. “No more games. You either talk and prove to me that they matter to you, or I blow your brains all over those photos and you never see them again. It’s an easy choice. What’s it going to be?”
“I saved your life,” Gould growled through gritted teeth.
“You saved your own ass.”
“No, I didn’t,” Gould shouted.
“None of it matters, Louie. There’s no negotiating. You either talk or you’re dead.”
“I want assurances.”
Rapp let go of his hair for a second and slapped Gould in the head. “The only promise you’ll get out of me is that I’ll let you see your wife and daughter if you tell me everything.”
“See them . . . that’s not good enough. I want assurances that I will be able to return to my old life.”
“As an assassin . . . Are you fucking nuts?” Rapp looked up at Hurley and said, “Can you believe this guy?”
“Don’t waste any more time. Just kill him. We’ll get Obrecht to talk. We don’t need him.”
“You’re right.” Rapp jammed the gun into the back of Gould’s head.
Gould wasn’t sure if Rapp was bluffing. The man had proven to be difficult to predict. All he needed to do was get through this and then he could negotiate with Kennedy or one of the others guys later. “Wait.”
“No more waiting. I know what you’re thinking right now,” Rapp whispered. “‘Is he bluffing or is he going to pull that trigger?’ Well, all you have to do is ask yourself one question . . . If someone killed Claudia and your daughter, what would you do? You wouldn’t hesitate, would you? The guy would already be dead. So if you think you and I are so much alike, then you know I’ll pull this trigger. This is your last chance. We’re all dying, Gould. Just some of us sooner than others.”
CHAPTER 52
ISLAMABAD, PAKISTAN
DURRANI took no joy in watching Ashan fall. He was a good man and a good friend, but he was horribly misguided. For the ISI to forge a strong future for Pakistan, they could not afford to have someone so weak running the Foreign Wing. Durrani already had his replacement ready to go, a man who shared his zeal for the future of Pakistan. Ashan would survive. After a few months this would blow over and Durrani would do his best to make sure he and his family were treated with respect. He might even be able to arrange for him to keep some of the money in the Swiss bank account.
Durrani shook off the feelings of sorrow over what he’d done to his friend and turned his attention to Rickman. He was troubled by the man’s discontent. He had worked hard to make everything fall into place. Only a fool would think that every aspect of the operation should work to perfection. Now should be a time to celebrate, not point fingers and blame each other for what had gone wrong. He recognized now that he might have been a bit aggressive in telling General Qayem that he wanted the assassin killed as soon as Rapp was eliminated, but his heart had been in the right place. The Frenchman’s life meant nothing to any of them, and besides, his complicated history with Rapp would serve to further confuse the CIA.
Durrani was prepared to make amends to Rickman. It would be a gesture that would make his co-conspirator very happy. And then Durrani would make sure that Rickman understood that he still had to fulfill his part of the bargain.
The dog was an absolute monster. Durrani had directed the head of his security detail to buy three new guard dogs to help patrol the property. He specifically asked for Rottweilers. The head of his detail did not like dogs, nor did the rest of his men, so Durrani had to pay for a professional trainer to be flown in from Europe to teach them how to handle the dogs. The cost had been exorbitant, twenty-seven thousand dollars and counting, and one of his men had quit after he’d been bitten. Durrani complained openly about the dogs, but he had secretly grown to like them, due to both the fear they brought out in people and the way they jockeyed for his affection. They seemed to understand that of all the people who worked at the compound, Durrani was the one who was in charge.
One of the dogs, a fourth one, was not so cooperative. He was much bigger than the others, older and far smarter. He ran the show, and unlike the other three, this one made him nervous. Durrani had him on a choke chain with a long leash, but he did not use the choke chain for fear that the dog would turn on him and bite him in the groin as he had one of the guards. For this one it was all treats, no punishment.
The beast practically dragged him up the stairs of the guesthouse, and when they reached the main floor, the pudgy nurse took one look at the dog and recoiled in fear. Durrani ignored her as the dog sniffed his way down the hall toward the bedroom. Durrani didn’t bother knocking on the door. He pushed through into the room and set the dog free. The beast leaped onto the bed and began licking Rickman’s bruised face.
