Vince Flynn - Consent To Kill

"He's fine. He sends his regards. He says you are no fun now that you are married." Kennedy's left eyebrow arched in a curious expression. "What is that supposed to mean?"

"It means now that I'm married I'm no fun anymore."

"Lovely. It's good to hear you've settled down. Anyway…Sayyid wanted to pass on a bit of intel. Apparently you're still very popular in Saudi Arabia."

"Good. Are they planning a parade for me?"

"Not quite. The opposite is more like it…a price has been placed on your head."

Rapp leaned back and crossed his legs. "By who?"

"We don't know. Sayyid is looking into it."

"Is that all?"

"For the moment."

Rapp thought about it for a few seconds while Kennedy observed him. This wasn't the first time he'd been on someone's hit list, and he doubted it would be the last. He looked at his watch. "I'd better get over to the CTC for the morning briefing."

Kennedy tilted her head and regarded him. "Doesn't this news worry you?"

Rapp shrugged. "Irene, there's always going to be some crazy fucker out there who wants to kill me. This is nothing new."

Kennedy nodded. "Just promise me you'll be careful."

"I always am," Rapp replied. "I always am."

"And promise me you won't hesitate to ask for security if you notice anything out of the ordinary."

Rapp stood and buttoned his suit coat. "Absolutely." He started for the door and then thought of something else. He stopped and asked, "Irene, would you do me a favor?"

"Of course."

"Would you let the Secret Service know about this? I'd appreciate it if they'd keep an eye on Anna as she's coming and going from the White House."

She was already planning on it. "I'll call Jack Warch right away."

"Thank you." Rapp left the director's office…his mind already jumping ahead…going into tactical mode. He'd feel much better when the new house was finished. The damn thing was going to be more secure than Fort Knox. The crazies could come after him all they wanted once he moved into the place. Unless they brought some heavy explosives, there was no way they were getting in, and if they did, well…he'd have a few surprises waiting for them.

He had made almost no effort to talk her into taking the job, knowing any such attempt had the potential to drive her further away. That night he simply stopped talking and let her begin to sort it out in her mind. They'd made love, forgetting about Mitch Rapp and killing for a while. When they were done, there was no mention of the German or Rapp or anything else, for that matter. They'd simply fallen asleep in each other's arms. The next morning they sat through a pot of coffee and some fresh fruit without a mention of it. They read the paper, smoked a cigarette, and literally didn't say a word. He recognized it for what it was. Claudia was not playing a game with him. She was not waiting for him to make the first move. She was simply thinking it through in a very thorough manner.

That was Claudia Morrell. She was the general, the field marshal, the tactician. Louie was good at the hunt and the kill. He was gifted beyond measure with the instinct to know when to press forward and when to retreat. He had a sense of the overall picture, but his attitude was inevitably one of invincibility. Claudia's strength was in the details. She was better at analyzing the risk whereas Louie thought anything could be overcome with the right amount of skill and determination. She knew when to walk away, while he was sometimes driven by the challenge. A dark, mad part of him had actually hoped the German would ask him to kill the American president. He had no feelings about the president one way or another, it was simply a challenge, a test of his skill, something that would be discussed for hundreds of years and maybe longer. To kill the most protected man in the world and get away with it, that would be the ultimate test. He'd dreamt of it. He was an old man giving a deathbed confession. Giving details that only he would know. Maybe even telling them where he'd hid the rifle. That was the only way to kill a man so heavily protected, that or a bomb, but bombs were clumsy and ended up killing too many innocent people. They were the easy way out, not the way of a talented assassin.

Rapp, however, was an entirely different matter. Despite Claudia's worries, Louie knew he had a huge advantage, and there was nothing cocky about recognizing this. Surprise was on his side. He knew if the roles were reversed he probably wouldn't stand a chance against a man of Rapp's talents and significant resources. Any disadvantage he was dealt by having to operate in Rapp's backyard was negated by the fact that he had gone to high school in Washington while his father had been ambassador. Louie's Americanized English was flawless. Despite Claudia's reservations, he was very optimistic about pulling off this job and simply fading away into early retirement. Well, he was a little less optimistic about the fading away part, but he hadn't shared that with Claudia.

After she'd finished two cups of coffee she closed the paper and said, "Do you want to know what I think?"

"I've been waiting all morning."

"The German is working for the Saudis. That's where his contacts are. I don't like the Saudis, but I like the idea of settling down." She paused and fixed him with a very serious look. "But I'm not so sure you do."

"That's not true."

"What are you going to do? Lie in the sun every day and drink beer…" She shook her head. "I don't think so."

"Claudia, we are going to be extremely wealthy. I will do whatever I want."

She studied him with open skepticism. "I want you to really think about this. I want children, and I want to put all of this behind us. Killing people was not what I wanted to do with my life."

She extended her arms and motioned toward the dirty walls of the run-down apartment. "No more assignments, no more moving from place to place. I want to stop."

"So do I." Louie knew the important thing was to keep agreeing. Like an alcoholic, he had the desire to stop. The benefit was undeniable, but he just didn't know if he would be able to resist the call of the hunt.

His answer, and her need to believe in the possibility of a different life, was enough for her. "Here is what we are going to do. I don't trust the German. He would throw us overboard in a second, and as far as the money goes he is a shyster. We know he's acting on behalf of the Saudis, and it's my guess that he is not working for the government but rather some individual or group. Either way," she shrugged, "they have deep pockets."

"I would agree."

"Good. I am going to call Herr Abel and tell him our fee is ten million."

Louie didn't like changing the deal. "But I already told him seven."

"I know you did, but Saudis are not rational when it comes to money. They are impulsive. If they are willing to pay seven they are willing to pay ten…trust me."

"Why not ask for fifteen, then?"

"That's too big of a jump." She reached out and patted his hand. "You're good, darling, but not that good. If we demand fifteen million, Abel will go find someone else."

"All right. Ten million is the number. What if they say no?"

"They won't."

She was right. Louie sat there at the kitchen table and watched Claudia turn on her phone and call Abel. It didn't go well at first. Louie could hear the German's voice bellowing from the tiny speaker of the mobile phone. They had a deal. Seven million was the agreed-upon sum. He said he would find someone else. Claudia wished him luck, pressed the end button, and turned her phone off. Fifteen minutes later she turned her phone back on and there were three messages from the German. She played them back and listened to Abel negotiate with himself. The first message he agreed to go to eight, during the second call he went to nine, and finally on the third call he agreed to ten million but not a dollar more. Claudia called him back and told him she would e-mail him the wiring instructions. As soon as the five-million-dollar deposit was in their hands they would start.