“But Rapp knows that, too,” Hargrave protested. “He may be the most successful assassin in history. It isn’t going to be lost on him that his job gets harder with every day that goes by. If he’s going to make a move, it needs to be while there are still cracks that he can slip through.”
Cook nodded silently, considering what he’d heard. “We’ll reconvene in two days. When we do, I want to know where Rapp is, and I want options.”
CHAPTER 7
NEAR FRANSCHHOEK
SOUTH AFRICA
IT always took Rapp a few days to reacquaint himself with driving on the left, and focusing entirely on avoiding a head-on collision felt strangely therapeutic. The long flight to South Africa had been consumed by thoughts of Irene Kennedy, Anthony and Catherine Cook, Mike Nash, and the country he loved but was now struggling to recognize. Setting his mind to the task of not becoming a hood ornament on one of the oncoming farm vehicles allowed him to put everything else aside for a while. To just enjoy the cool breeze coming through the window, the vineyards surrounding him, and the distant mountains glowing under dead clear sky. The United States was now thousands of miles in his rearview mirror. The only question now was, would that be far enough?
He turned onto a gravel road and at the top of the first rise was rewarded with a view that he needed more than he’d realized—the thatch roof of a Cape Dutch home peeking over a tall white wall. Many of the trees around the perimeter had been cut back to improve visibility, leaving the area a bit sparse until the neighbors’ vines began. Overall, the property gave the impression of not having changed much over the better part of a century.
In fact, the house included state-of-the-art alarm and surveillance systems as well as some defensive protocols that would impress even the security-obsessed South Africans. At Claudia’s insistence, though, it was all cleverly hidden. When they were in America, she subjected herself to his purpose-built bunker. But when she was in South Africa, she got to live in her idyllic turn-of-the-century oasis. Such were the compromises that were so unfamiliar to him but apparently necessary if he wanted to have a life beyond work.
When Rapp pulled through the gate, he was greeted by a now-familiar scene. Two Rhodesian ridgebacks rocketed from around the meticulously whitewashed home, zeroing in on his SUV as Claudia appeared on the front porch. They hit the side of the vehicle hard enough to rock it on its suspension, generating a collage of claw marks that were the reason he’d sprung for the most generous insurance policy Hertz had to offer. There was less growling and salivating than in the past, though. A step in the right direction, but not a big enough one that he would risk getting out before his backup arrived.
It did a moment later in the form of a seven-year-old girl with a tangle of blond hair and a missing incisor. She leapt from the porch and ran toward him, waving excitedly before shouldering past the dogs. Confident he was safe, Rapp opened the door and scooped her up. Aisha and Jambo pawed and barked but didn’t seem to want to tear him apart anymore. In fact, they might have actually been excited to see him.
“How’s it going, runt?”
“It’s going great! Can we go for a ride later? It’s still not late. And the weather’s really good. Mom doesn’t like me taking my bike outside the wall when you’re not here. It’s so boring to ride around in the yard. We should definitely go out. It won’t be dark for hours! And it’s supposed to rain tomorrow.”
“I don’t know. I’m kind of jet-lagged and I’m guessing you’re gonna drop the hammer the second we get out on the road.”
“I won’t! We’ll do an easy day! Zone one! Even on the hills.”
He grinned as he carried her toward the house. She was already picking up his training jargon.
“If you promise. Recovery pace the whole way.”
“I totally promise. We’ll go hard on Thursday.”
They finally reached the stoop and he put her down before giving Claudia a quick kiss. She looked down at her daughter and pointed inside. “I went into your room a few minutes ago and I think you know what I’m about to tell you.”
She always spoke French to Anna in hopes of turning her into a native-level speaker. That and the state of the girl’s room had become the foundation of a cold war between them. As usual, she got her reply in English.
“It’s not that messy. And Mitch just got here!”
“If you want to ride with him later, I suggest you go up there and get to work. Because your butt won’t be getting anywhere near that bike seat until everything’s back in your closet. And I don’t mean just thrown in there, either.”