AllFreeNovel
Share Us
“What about the bomb that I’m being asked to detonate?”
Krupin’s irritation at being interrogated like this was beginning to show, but still he answered. “You will leave in the vehicle you arrived in. When you’re at a safe distance, the two men you left behind will detonate the bomb. Should they be unable to, you will be provided with a code that has a twenty-minute delay.”
“But what if—”
“All the operational details are here,” Krupin said, cutting him off and holding out a thumb drive. “Review them and, as always, if you have any concerns, contact me.”
Azarov accepted the drive and just stared down at it.
“Do this, Grisha, and you will have anything you want. Unlimited wealth. Unlimited power. You—”
“I want out,” Azarov said, without looking up from the innocuous piece of plastic in his hand.
“What?”
“I want to never return to Russia. I want you to forget I exist.”
Krupin leaned back, his narrow lips spreading into a smile. “Are you going to retreat to Costa Rica? Return to the farming of your youth?”
“That’s my affair.”
Azarov’s tone registered in Krupin’s eyes but nowhere else. “And if I refuse?”
“Then I’m sure the ISIS team you’re so confident in can handle the operation without me.”
“You may not be as indispensible as you believe, Grisha.”
Again, the gun beneath Azarov’s arm made its presence felt. This time there must have been some hint of it in his body language because, for the first time in their relationship, the Russian president became visibly nervous.
“If you want to turn your back on everything I’m offering you to live a life with no value, Grisha, then so be it. As you say, that’s your affair.”
CHAPTER 30
NEAR BHAKKAR
PAKISTAN
JOE Maslick adjusted his grip under Rapp’s arm, dragging him down the hallway with the help of one of Saad Chutani’s men. Rapp wasn’t moving at all, his bare feet just dragged lifelessly across the concrete floor. Maslick was actually a little relieved when he started to cough, despite the fact that every successive convulsion sprayed blood from his grotesquely swollen lips. When a pink tooth dislodged and skittered across the floor, though, the sweat running down the former Delta operator’s back turned cold.
Had he gone too far? The goal was to mimic the damage Jesem had suffered and obscure any differences between his and Rapp’s features. It had been no small task. The Pakistanis had gone to town on Jesem, and his nose had been significantly different from Rapp’s in both size and shape. Trying to make the switch convincing without doing damage severe enough to hinder Rapp’s operational ability had been impossible.
Rapp had survived his years in this business because he was just plain faster, stronger, smarter, and more accurate than everyone else. There was no way that was true any longe
r. If he never came back from this mission, Maslick would spend the rest of his life wondering if it had been the result of one too many uppercuts to the chin for him to see straight. A kick to the ribs that was a little too hard to allow him to move effectively. Internal bleeding created while trying to match the bruising on Jesem’s stomach.
General Shirani appeared at the end of the hallway with two of his men, effectively blocking it. Just like Rapp had said he would.
“What are you doing with my prisoner?”
Maslick took in a breath and let it out slowly. This was going to be the hard part. He’d never been much of a talker, even when he was a kid. But that was okay. His job was shooting, not making speeches. He said what needed to be said and then killed the people who needed to be killed. Unfortunately, his orders in this situation were somewhat different.
“Get the fuck out of the way,” he said.
Good use of vulgarity, but too quiet. Too hesitant. Shirani was a useless Pakistani piece of shit, but he was still a four-star. And that was a rank Maslick had spent most of his life being taught to respect.
“Where is Mitch Rapp?”
“He went out to one of the trucks. Said he needed to talk to—”
