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“Almost. The parking garage cameras are the last thing. Oddly, they’re more difficult to access than the ones in the building. It’ll be taken care of by tomorrow afternoon.”
“With a little luck, this could actually go smoothly.”
“Oh, I doubt it.”
He turned toward her. “Are there issues we haven’t talked about?”
“With taking the prince? No.”
“Then what?”
“I’m concerned, Mitch. This isn’t a black op. You’ve got no official standing. Have you considered the possibility that you might spend the rest of your life on the run from your former friends and colleagues?”
“They wouldn’t find me. Most of them wouldn’t want to.”
“Even if that’s true, your life would never be the same. I lived that way for years—the constant moves, the aliases, the lack of anything lasting. And for you, the loss of your country.”
“I can handle it.”
“I wonder.”
“Is that all?”
“No.”
“How did I know that?”
“I’m worried about your team. They’re all very talented—particularly Grisha—but they’re not reliable or loyal. They’re not Scott.”
“They’ll hold together.”
“Are you sure? You have a Russian assassin who cares only about one thing: the woman he left behind in Costa Rica. If he sees any risk of not being able to return to her, he’ll abandon us. Then you have a sociopathic woman who is doing this for the new life you’ve offered her, but also because she wants you back. And, finally, you have a boy who doesn’t want to work with you—he wants to be you. How long until he decides he’s ready to test the great Mitch Rapp?”
“When you put it that way, it does sound pretty bad.”
“I’m being serious.”
“I know. It’s your job to think about this stuff and I agree with everything you said. But it’s the only hand we’ve got to play.”
She looked up at him, clearly wanting him to say more.
“Look, Claudia. I haven’t seen Donatella in more than ten years. We had a short relationship that we both knew wasn’t going anywhere. Don’t let her get to you. She just likes to make trouble.”
Claudia examined his face for a few more seconds and then took his hand. “Let’s go to bed. We can take our minds off our problems for a little while.”
CHAPTER 28
DONATELLA Rahn walked up the steps to the yacht’s upper deck, sipping a sparkling water. She had a light wrap over her dress but didn’t need more. Despite the fact that it was almost 10 p.m., temperatures were still in the low seventies.
The rest of their haphazard team was already there but, somewhat tellingly, all were occupying their own space. She did the same, settling into an empty lounge chair and taking an opportunity to study the people around her.
Kent Black was near the railing doing another endless set of push-ups. He was purported to be an excellent sniper but seemed impossibly young and desperate to impress. It was clear that he idolized Mitch almost to the point of deification. Saint Rapp. The Great and Terrible Oz. She’d known him when he was just another boy getting into the business. Talented, to be sure, but who could have guessed what he would become?
Grisha Azarov had his back to her, talking quietly into a satellite phone, as he did often. He was quite an intriguing figure, exuding calm confidence and that hint of clinical depression that she’d come to associate with Russian operatives. Claudia did a mediocre job of hiding her fear of him, while Rapp made no attempt to hide his respect. Donatella’s eavesdropping suggested that Azarov always talked to the same person but a name had proved difficult to make out. Probably Cara, but the fact that he never gave Donatella so much as a glance suggested that it could also be Carl.
She turned her attention to a table where Rapp and the little French girl were discussing something in hushed tones. What on earth did he see in her?
Unfortunately, the answer was obvious. There was the youth, of course—she was certainly no more than midthirties. And then there was the beautiful face and flawless body. Moreover, she appeared to be irritatingly competent. The name Dufort was complete nonsense, of course. There was little question that this was the woman who had played a significant role in the success of the late Louis Gould. While pulling a trigger could be quite difficult, equally difficult was making sure you were standing in the right place when you did it. Gould was always standing in the right place, and it was common knowledge that he had his wife to thank.
