Chapter 29
THIS again?” Rapp said.
The Mystery Man smiled. “I know—quite rude. But I promise to lower my weapon just as soon as you surrender yours.”
The metal door to Rapp’s right swung open.
As he’d expected, it was the restaurant’s rear exit.
As he also should have expected, someone was waiting on the far side of the door. Someone and something. Rapp had heard the expression “mountain of a man” before, but he’d never met someone who’d fully embodied the phrase.
Until now.
The person who stepped into the restaurant was at least three hundred pounds.
Maybe more. People this heavy usually moved liked it—slow and deliberate.
Not this guy. He walked with a dancer’s grace.
His Asian ethnicity and monstrous size brought to mind a sumo wrestler, and maybe that’s where he’d gotten his start.
Or, his size could be part genetics and long hours in the gym and part performance-enhancing drugs.
He stood a couple inches taller than Rapp, and though he was dressed in a suit whose quality suggested he shared a tailor with the Mystery Man, the giant’s scarred knuckles and crooked nose suggested he wasn’t just a pretty face.
Rapp could hear a vehicle idling.
He craned his head around the giant’s shoulders to find a van waiting in the alley behind the restaurant. This one was dirty gray rather than the red like the one that had renditioned the scientist, but Rapp had a feeling the Mystery Man intended to use it in a similar manner.
“You’re kidnapping me?” Rapp said.
“Of course not. Think of this more as an extended get-to-know-you session. My friends will drive as we talk. Once our conversation is complete, we’ll drop you anywhere you like.”
“Except that only one of us will have a pistol.”
The man’s smile grew wider. “I’ve made a career out of spotting dangerous men. Leaving you with a pistol would be the equivalent of climbing into a tiger’s cage and hoping the cat is on its best behavior. I’m not stupid.”
Rapp wasn’t sure he could say the same.
“What if I decline?” Rapp said.
The man shrugged. “As I told you, this isn’t a kidnapping. If you want to stay here, be my guest. I’ve heard the Risotto all’Amarone is exceptional. But you’d be missing out.”
“On?”
“The chance to speak with my Pakistani friend.”
Rapp made a show of considering the offer, but his hesitation was pure performance.
He didn’t like the idea of the scientist disappearing into the arms of what was probably a terrorist cell.
While he wasn’t foolhardy enough to think he could gun down the Pakistani in front of his new hosts, the knowledge in his head was dangerous, and Rapp wanted to keep track of the little shit.
But that was only part of the reason.
Despite the Mystery Man’s assurances, he wasn’t buying that this invitation was voluntary.
While he wouldn’t have thought a Sicilian restaurant nestled in Verona’s tourist section would have been a natural front for a Middle Eastern terrorist cell, the kitchen’s other occupants hadn’t seemed terribly interested in what was happening.
The apprentice chef was still stirring sauce and babysitting meat, while the owner was reviewing the order slips and barking instructions.
No help there.
Rapp slowly drew the Beretta and handed the weapon to the giant butt-first. “I’ll be getting that back.”
“Of course,” the Mystery Man said. “Now, if you don’t mind, we need to hurry. My driver is double-parked.”
Rapp spread his arms for the inevitable pat-down. The giant conducted the search with quick, efficient motions, relieving Rapp of his extra magazines, suppressor, and even his belt knife.
This wasn’t his first rodeo.
“Excellent,” the Lebanese man said. “Please follow my associate to the van.”
Rapp fell in behind the giant as he exited the restaurant for the alley. The big man pulled open the van’s door and beckoned inside, where hopefully answers were waiting. If not, this was going to be one hell of an ending to his Veronese adventure.