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Taj’s eyes flickered and Gadai resisted an urge to step back, knowing that the wall behind him would prevent it.
“Obrecht is dead,” Taj said finally. “Rapp is not.”
Gadai didn’t let his relief show. He’d had no hand in planning that operation and in fact had pointed out its numerous potential pitfalls.
The ISI was in the business of knowing everything there was to know about Mitch Rapp. Its files were likely more extensive than those at any other intelligence agency in the world, including the CIA. What those files described was a man who had walked away from certain death on countless occasions, each time leaving in his wake the bodies of men who believed themselves to be assured of victory.
“And Gould?” Gadai prompted gently.
“Also dead.”
Gadai nodded. He also had warned against the killing of Abdul Qayem. While it was true that the Afghan general knew far too much to be allowed to fall into the hands of the CIA, it was also true that his death had left the ISI with no obvious path to Mitch Rapp. Qayem could have been used to bait a trap deployed on terrain they controlled: Quetta, North Waziristan, or any of a number of sites in Afghanistan. Rapp could have been isolated and pitted against an overwhelming force.
Of course, pointing this out would be unwise to the extreme. Better to accentuate the positive.
“Gould and Obrecht were loose ends that we would have been forced to deal with sooner than later, Ahmed. Rapp has done our work for us while allowing us to remain in the shadows. And, in the end, he is only one man.”
That caused Taj to spin toward him. “I am only one man, Kabir. Sometimes one man is all it takes to change the order of things.”
“I hardly think it’s a fair comparison,” Gadai said. “Mitch Rapp is a simple enforcer constrained by a dysfunctional and cowardly government. You are a brilliant man who will soon lead one of the most powerful countries in the world.”
“Don’t patronize me, Kabir. I know what you’re thinking. Qayem.”
“Not at all,” Gadai lied smoothly. “In light of Rapp’s escape from Switzerland, it’s clear that you were right. The risks of leaving the general alive were too great.”
Taj’s eyes narrowed, but thankfully he chose not to pursue the subject. “I understand you have Rickman’s files.”
“Yes, sir. And they’ve been wiped from the law firm’s system.”
“Including the backups?”
“Absolutely.”
“The woman?”
“She and her daughter are both dead. The authorities are treating it as an accident. No criminal investigation has been initiated and none is planned, according to our sources.”
He nodded and seemed to relax a bit. Rapp’s survival was undoubtedly dangerous, but with the Rickman files in their possession, the assassin could be neutralized. Without the support of the American president and the CIA infrastructure, he would become less than nothing.
“Have you been able to access the information?” Taj asked, though he almost certainly knew the answer to the question.
“They’re encrypted.”
“You didn’t get the key from the law firm?”
“They didn’t have it. But the instructions for the files’ dissemination weren’t encrypted. In fact, the next release is scheduled for tomorrow. Our people think that this is the path to accessing
the information.”
“Explain.”
“We believe the man who is decrypting and sending out the files is some kind of computer criminal. The law firm couldn’t be allowed to see the contents of the files because they would have called the authorities. Conversely, a criminal couldn’t be given access to all the files at one time, because he might have sought to use them for his own ends. It’s the combination of the two organizations—one legal and one not—that made Rickman’s system work.”
“Then you can find this computer criminal?”
“We believe so. Through his email address.”
“You believe so?” Taj said, the volume of his voice rising noticeably. “If we can’t access the information in these files, we’ve learned nothing. Accomplished nothing. We have the tools to crush America’s entire intelligence empire in our hands and we can’t use them. Find this man, Kabir. Find him now.”
