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She looked up at him, her almond-shaped eyes almost black in the semidarkness. “Liar.”
Maybe he wasn’t so much a liar.
The limo was as plush as any he’d been in and the jet it was pulling up to bore little resemblance to the Agency’s increasingly threadbare G5. Unless he missed his guess, it was a brand-new Global 8000.
So far so good.
They glided to a stop and Rapp grabbed his bag before stepping out. The aircraft’s door was open, so he climbed the steps to find Damian Losa sitting on a sofa in the middle of the cabin. The Mexican rose to shake hands and indicated a chair across from him.
“Can I offer you a drink?” he said, holding up the glass in his hand.
Rapp just shook his head. Claudia was right about him being slick. It was difficult to imagine him being involved in anything more violent than a spirited debate about French wine vintages. In this case,appearances were deceptive. Rumor had it that there was a time when he hadn’t shied away from getting his hands bloody.
“My plan to fly you into Damascus to talk with decision-makers—maybe even the president—hasn’t worked out as well as I hoped.”
“Meaning?” Rapp said, unsurprised, but interested in how Losa would spin it.
“The feedback I’m getting is that trying to go straight to the top wouldn’t be useful or safe.”
“So, the government isn’t in a negotiating mood?”
“I don’t think they understand how helpful I could be to their interests, and I’m concerned that you might not be treated with the respect you deserve.”
Rapp smiled at the elegant turn of phrase.Might not be treated with the respect you deservetranslated towill use a blowtorch on your balls.
“So where does that leave me?”
“I’m going to put you in touch with people who can make lower-level introductions and provide reliable security. You just need to state our case and gather as much information as you can. The hope is that it’ll be enough to move you up the chain.”
“Can I assume I won’t be taking this plane?”
“No. It makes sense for you to go in more quietly. The best way to do that is on foot with an organization that traffics people across the Turkish border.”
“If I remember right, that border’s heavily patrolled and there’s a wall.”
“It won’t be a problem. The authorities aren’t concerned about people crossing from Turkey into Syria. For obvious reasons, the flow tends to go the other way.”
“And when I get there?”
“You’ll be met by someone who’ll take you to Idlib, where you’ll be able to connect with what’s left of my organization. I assume you’re familiar with the region?”
Rapp nodded. It was one of the last rebel strongholds in Syria,though “stronghold” might be overstating the actual situation on the ground. With the help of Russian forces, the government was doing a good job of strangling the residents.
“Unfortunately, the few Syrians still loyal to me have been forced to take refuge there.”
“Loyal,” Rapp repeated. “How loyal?”
“Obviously, my operation there has been badly degraded, but I still have enough influence to get you into the hands of men who won’t turn on you.”
That sounded a little optimistic to Rapp, but there wasn’t much he could do about it.
“And to be clear, no one knows my real identity.”
“Only me and my lieutenant, who is completely above suspicion. To everyone else, you’re a Canadian attorney who represents my interests. And that’s what you’re going to do, correct?”
“The fact that I’m here proves that.”
“Suggests,” Losa corrected. “The fact that you’re sitting heresuggeststhat. You’ve spent your life in the service of America. How are you finding redirecting that loyalty to me?”
