Vince Flynn - Consent To Kill

He yanked her bike off the ground and flipped the release for the front wheel. The bike was light but even so, Gould tossed it around like it was a kid's trike. He'd purchased both bikes the evening past at yet another massive sports superstore across the highway from the hotel they'd found in Bowie, a suburb of DC. There were a few motels and bed and breakfasts closer to Rapp's, but they didn't offer enough anonymity. Gould already imagined Rapp calling the handful of bed and breakfasts near his house to see if a couple fitting their description had checked in. He was just that type of man, Gould supposed. Very thorough. Gould was not one to come unnerved, but meeting Rapp had sent a chill down his spine that he hadn't felt since he'd been surrounded by an angry mob of machete-wielding Hutus in Rwanda while he was serving in the Foreign Legion.

The man had been less than a mile from his home, the one place where Gould expected to find him with his guard down, but he couldn't have been more wrong. Gould hadn't even noticed him at first. He was helping steady Claudia. She had started to feel queasy as they approached Rapp's house, but the first wave passed so they continued on. They had made it to his house and then turned around and were on their way back to town. That's all they had planned on doing-a simple drive-by. Gould wanted to get the lay of the land and confirm what his eyes could only guess in the dark of night. He also wanted to explore the possibility of making it look like an accident. The German was offering an extra million dollars, and while Gould wasn't crazy about the added risk, he would at least give it consideration. Claudia pulled over abruptly about a half mile past Rapp's house and began throwing up. At this point Gould was still calm. They had seen both cars in the driveway, and it was before 7:00 in the morning. Claudia would get this over with in a few minutes and they would move on, no one the wiser to their presence.

The last thing Gould had expected was to come face-to-face with his quarry. Then Gould heard something and looked over his shoulder, and there in the flesh was Mitch Rapp. He had gotten very close, too close, and had done so without intentionally stalking Gould. It was supposed to be the other way around. His only saving grace were the sunglasses that covered his eyes. Eyes were by far the most difficult feature to change. Behind the shield of tinted glass, Gould watched Rapp's every move with keen interest. He saw how the American's left hand remained poised just above the pack he wore around his waist. Gould had zero doubt what was concealed in the pack, and he also had zero doubt that Rapp could draw and fire the weapon in the time it would take most people to blink. He also knew it was almost a certainty that Rapp would hit his target.

While the chance encounter was not something that Gould would have preferred, everything up to this point was manageable. Rapp had seen him, but thanks to loose-fitting clothes, the helmet, and the sunglasses there really wasn't much to go on. Rapp asked him a question and Gould was forced to answer. Still, everything was fine. Gould spoke such flawless English that there was no way for Rapp to glean that he was French. Then Claudia decided to open her mouth and ruin everything.

They got in the truck and drove back to the hotel in silence. Claudia reclined her seat as far as it would go and covered her eyes. When they got to the hotel they entered through one of the side doors. Claudia dropped onto the bed with her workout clothes still on. She kicked off one shoe and then the other. She let out a moan and covered her head with one of the fluffy pillows.

"Close the curtains, please," she said from under the pillow.

He yanked the fabric shut with such force that he practically pulled the whole thing off its rails.

She cracked one eye and lifted the pillow. "What are you so upset about?"

He stopped his pacing and stared at her. "Why in the hell did you open your mouth back there?"

"Back where?"

"On the street. In front of Rapp."

She pulled the pillow down and muttered something.

"What in the hell were you thinking?"

"I was sick. I didn't even know it was him."

"Do you realize what the stakes are? Do you have any idea what you did by speaking back there?"

"You are overreacting," she groaned.

"The hell I am. If we fail, you don't think he's going to remember that couple he ran into one early morning? The woman with the French accent, and the man she was with?"

"He didn't see our faces."

"He didn't need to. All he needs to do is put out a general physical description of us and then stipulate that the woman was French. How many male/female teams do you think there are?" He stared at her waiting for an answer that he never got. "Not a lot to start with, but add the fact that he now knows the woman is French and he's narrowed the search down to only a few people."

"Then let's quit. Let's just walk away from it and keep the German's money."

Gould didn't speak for a second. He just gawked at her stupidity. "Have you lost your mind?"

"Then give the money back. I don't care…just leave me alone. Can't you see I'm not in the mood to argue with you right now?"

"You sure picked a hell of a time to get pregnant."

She lifted the corner of the pillow and looked out at him with an angry eye. "Believe me, you had something to do with it."

"Why now? We've been having sex for years and it's never happened before." He had wanted to ask this question, but until now had been too worried about how she might react. Now he simply didn't care.

"It happens," she replied with a tinge of anger in her voice.

"Bullshit," he growled. "You stopped taking the Pill, didn't you?"

"Va-t'en. Je ne me sens pas bien."

"Speak English," he snapped.

"Go away. I don't feel well, you bully."

Gould's jaw clenched in anger. He hesitated for a second, fighting the urge to press his point. He decided he needed to get away from her before he said something they would both regret. He marched across the room and grabbed one of the backpacks. He threw the pack over one shoulder and left without saying another word.

HE STOPPED AT a nearby gas station and filled the tank. He also got some coffee and a donut that he regretted buying soon after he'd wolfed it down. Before pulling out of the lot Gould checked the GPS tracking device he'd placed on Anna Rielly's car. The screen on the handheld device was only three inches by three inches and was not capable of the detail that Claudia's laptop provided, but for now it would do just fine. A quick check revealed that she was on her way back into the city. More than likely she was on her way to work. Gould had placed three devices in her car. The first, the one he stuck under the dashboard, was a simple bug. Anything she said while in the car would be relayed to a digital recorder and scanning device in the trunk. That small black box also randomly scanned the most common frequencies used by cordless phones. It had an effective range of up to 100 feet. It also contained a small digital phone so it could be accessed remotely. The third device was the GPS transponder itself, which allowed him to track the location of the vehicle.

Gould plugged an earpiece into his Palm Pilot and dialed the number to connect with the scanning device in Rielly's trunk. At the prompt he punched in the four-digit code and waited with the Palm Pilot's thin black stylus poised above the screen. He followed several more commands and then waited while the data was transferred from the scanner to the handheld computer. The code on the bottom of the file told him that he had sixteen minutes and eighteen seconds worth of conversation. As soon as it was done he erased the recordings on the scanner and ended the connection. The scanner in Rielly's trunk could hold up to five hours of digitized phone conversation, which for his purposes should be more than enough. Gould opened the audio file on his Palm Pilot and began replaying the time-stamped conversations. The first one was from the night before and was nothing more than Rielly listening to the radio on her way home from work. Gould fast forwarded through parts of it to make sure he didn't miss anything. Eight minutes and thirty-seven seconds into it she made a call to a girlfriend named Liz. She asked how her godson was doing and began talking about babies. Gould skipped ahead. He would go back and listen to every word later, but for now he wanted to hear if he had Rapp talking on the home phone.