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“Likely, but not certain,” she said, looking a bit worried.

“This job just keeps getting worse, doesn’t it? I—”

“I know. You warned me.”

She swung the car onto a narrow path between buildings and the GPS recalibrated. They were back on the right track.

After about a hundred yards a man ran out of a doorway to their right and jogged toward the car. The white face was immediately recognizable, and Rapp tightened his grip on his Glock as Kent Black yanked open the back door.

“Where have you two been?” he said, ducking inside. “I was sweating my ass off out there.”

“Your directions took a little artistic license,” Claudia said.

“You can’t find shit in this town from one day to another. Just keep going. Next right. There’s an old gate. We’ll be going through it and parking on the other side.”

The barrier opened as they approached, and Rapp spotted Grisha Azarov behind. By the time they’d parked, the Russian had the gate locked down again.

“We’ve got a decent view of the church from the top floor,” Black said, getting out and leading them into a building that looked to be on the verge of buckling. Many of the walls had crumbled and about half of the third floor was now lying on the second. Despite that, a number of people had taken up residence—mostly families, some cooking over fires, others trying to stay out of the sun, but all paying a lot of attention to the four white people in their midst.

“What’s the story with the people living here?” Rapp asked, slowing to let Azarov pass. He still didn’t like having the man behind him.

“They’ve got no love for Abdo, if that’s what you mean,” Black said. “He’s the reason most of them are homeless. And we’re paying them ten times more to keep quiet than that scumbag would ever pay them to talk. We’re good.”

They came out on the top floor and found Donatella standing in the shade on the north end.

“Mitch!” she said, throwing her arms around him. “I was starting to worry.”

Claudia’s expression hardened. She was wearing dusty cargo shorts and a sweat-soaked T-shirt, while Donatella looked like she’d just come from the queen’s garden party.

“Show me the church,” Rapp said, leaving the two women to stare at each other.

Black led, dropping to his stomach a few yards from the edge of the floor and slithering toward a missing section of wall. There was a pair of Zeiss binoculars hanging on a column, and Rapp used them to scan the area around their former headquarters.

Abdo’s men weren’t wearing their customary dirty fatigues, having changed into civilian clothes. Still, they stood out. While everyone else in town seemed to have something to do or somewhere to go, they were just standing around, scanning the passing faces.

“How many in total?” Rapp said.

“We’ve made five. Three on the ground and two in buildings east and west. Probably at least one inside, but there’s no way to know. Twelve-hour shifts, ending around midnight and noon. I told you, Mitch. You shouldn’t have killed NaNomi. These guys don’t mess around, and they know how to hold a grudge.”

“Is there anything inside the building I need to worry about?”

“What do you mean?”

“I mean did you leave anything in there about us?”

“Nothing about you. Just my whole life. That’s all.”

They slid back to where the others were waiting.

“It looks like we’re going to have to leave this horrible place,” Don­atella observed. “May I suggest Sardinia? Easy to get lost in, good food, and the weather’s lovely this time of the year.”

“We’re staying here,” Rapp responded.

“But, Mitch, we—”

“Those security videos from Monaco are making their rounds to the world’s intelligence agencies, and I’m guessing I’ve already been IDed,” he said, cutting her off. Once she got to complaining, it was almost impossible to get her to stop. “Claudia and Kent aren’t on them, so they’re probably okay. Grisha, are you confident you talked your way out of this?”

“For now,” the Russian responded. “But as a consulting company executive, it would be better if I’m not filmed in a similar performance anytime soon.”

Source: www.allfreenovel.com
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