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“Bonjour,” Rapp said. Claudia had named the girl after his wife and he found it hard to say aloud. “You must be Anna.”

“That’s right. Who are you?”

“My name’s Mitch. I’m an old friend of your mother’s. You and I met once, too, but you were just a baby.”

“I don’t remember stuff from when I was a baby.”

“Me neither.”

“Are you coming with us to the beach? You’re not dressed.”

“I don’t think so. I just need to talk to your mom for a couple of minutes.”

“I’m going to see if Ben wants to make castles. He’s really good at it. He can even make the things that look like teeth on top of the walls.”

“Merlons.”

“What?”

“The teeth are called merlons and the gaps between them are called crenels.”

“Are you making that up? How do you know that?”

The sad truth was that it was because he was an encyclopedia with only one chapter: things that could be used for war.

“I saw a TV show on it once.”

“I’m going to ask if Ben knows that.”

Rapp watched her run out before turning back to Claudia.

“Beautiful girl.”

“I don’t deserve her.” She motioned around the house that Irene Kennedy was paying for. “Or this.”

“Everyone makes mistakes. What matters is that we try to make up for them.”

He dug an iPhone out of his pocket and handed it to her. The display had a screenshot of a mutual fund statement. “We consolidated all of Louis’s accounts into this one. It’s all clean and the taxes have been paid. You don’t have anything to worry about.”

Her eyes widened. “There’s almost thirty million dollars here.”

Rapp nodded. “The account is under the name Claudia Dufort. We’re working with the French government to get you a new passport, a legend, and everything else you’ll need to stay off Louis’s enemies’ radar. Irene got you permanent residence in South Africa, and she used some of your money to buy you a house in the wine country. I think Anna will like it. There’s a good school close by and plenty of space for a horse or two.”

The tears finally came. She threw her arms around him and began to sob. “I’m so sorry, Mitch. I’m so sorry for everything I’ve done to you.”

CHAPTER 36

CIA HEADQUARTERS

LANGLEY, VIRGINIA

U.S.A.

IRENE Kennedy pushed her reading glasses onto her forehead, tying to chase the image of Stan Hurley from her mind. There would be time to mourn him later. Right now her only responsibility was to ensure that no more of her people ended up like him.

The handwritten list on the desk in front of her had been pulled almost entirely from her impeccable memory. It looked as innocuous as a guest list to one of her son’s birthday parties, but in fact it was the most sensitive catalog of names ever put to paper.

It included every significant spy or informant currently controlled by the CIA from the Middle East to China to Europe. Even South America and Australia were represented.

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