Chapter 33
VERONA, ITALY
YOU want to do what?”
Rapp had known this conversation wasn’t going to go particularly well.
Ridley was a career CIA officer and a good man, but he was not an operative.
Not in the sense of the word that Rapp employed anyway.
Put another way, there was a reason why Ridley ran an operation’s surveillance rather than join Hurley’s crew of door kickers.
Rapp’s assessment was not meant to be an indictment of Ridley’s tactical prowess, bravery, or character.
The CIA man had probably been a fine case officer and excellent spy in his day, but Rapp was not a spy.
He was an assassin.
“I’m going to Rome to link up with Ali’s man. I’m not sure what he’s looking for, but I’m betting it’s a triggerman. Either way, I need to find out why they’re willing to risk their entire organization for a weapons scientist who sells his skills to the highest bidder.”
“No. No way. Not gonna happen.”
Rapp sighed.
Ridley’s anger was in stark contrast to the serenity of their surroundings.
The Giardino Giusti was one of Verona’s hidden gems. The botanical garden had originated sometime in the sixteenth century.
Its terraced levels, walking trails, and towering trees projected a sense of peace that Rapp could feel in his bones.
Even more important, the winding paths and sculpted foliage offered something that had been a rare commodity as of late.
Privacy.
While the gardens were open to the public, the eastern boundary climbed a rolling hill that offered excellent sight lines to both the sprawling attraction and the city proper.
He and Ridley were tucked into a leeway where a stone wall met a cluster of cypress trees.
Short of sitting in an SCIF nestled deep inside the bowels of the US embassy in Rome, this was the most secure spot the City of Love had to offer.
Which was good.
Rapp needed to convey a few things for Ridley’s ears alone.
“I think you’ve confused the nature of our relationship,” Rapp said.
Ridley’s eyes narrowed. “Really? You’ve been doing this job for all of two years. Please don’t tell me you’re trying to pull rank.”
“That’s your problem, Ridley. You still think in terms of rank. I think in terms of mission. As in, my job is to complete the mission and yours is to support me.”
Ridley flushed and skewered the air with an index finger that came dangerously close to Rapp’s chest. “Mission? What mission? Your writ ended the moment you discovered Romano with a pair of bullet holes in his chest. Everything you’ve done since has been freelancing.
I went along for your meeting with Ali, but this making-it-up-as-you-go bullshit is going to get the Orion team exposed or one of us killed. I’m out.”
“Couldn’t agree more.”
The confusion etched across Ridley’s face would have been comical if the situation weren’t so dire. His index finger slowly wilted. “You’re not going to Rome?”
“Oh, I’m going to Rome, but you’re not coming. Like you said, you’re out.”
Ridley shook his head. “Listen, kid, you’ve done some ballsy stuff in your brief tenure, I’ll give you that.
That stunt you pulled in Beirut to save Hurley is going to be the stuff of legend long after you’re retired, but if you keep up this go-it-alone bullshit, you’ll be dead long before then.
Your reaction to candid feedback can’t be to take your ball and go home. That isn’t how this works.”
Rapp felt a flash of rage.
He wanted to believe that his anger came from Ridley’s patronizing words, but he wasn’t sure.
Some of the older man’s sentiment hit a bit too close to home.
In his short time as an Orion team member, he’d already collected one bullet hole and numerous scars.
It did not take a genius to see that his current trajectory wasn’t conducive to a long or healthy life.
But that didn’t mean he was wrong about Rome.
“I’m not going it alone,” Rapp said. “When we leave here, I’m boarding a train and you’re heading for the CIA’s Verona Base. I need you to get a secure message to someone.”
“Joke’s on you.”
“What do you mean?” Rapp said with a frown.
“Unlike you, I think it’s good practice to check in with my higher headquarters when shit goes sideways. I stopped by Verona Base before I came here.”
Rapp stepped toward Ridley. “You asked Irene to jerk my chain?”
“Didn’t need to. There was already a message from her. You have a new tasking.”
“What?”
“Get to Turkey. You’re supposed to see someone about a new legend.”
“Who?”
Ridley handed him a folder. “Details are in there.”
Rapp took the folder. Against his better judgment, he opened it and read the first page. Then he began to smile. Looking up, he made eye contact with Ridley. “Thanks!”
“You’re not going to Rome?”
“Oh, I’m going to Rome. Just as soon as I get back from Turkey. And I still need you to give someone a message.”
“Irene?”
Rapp’s smile widened. “Nope. Hurley. Tell him I’m supposed to meet a probable terrorist at the Islamic Center in Rome in two days and I need him to watch my back.”
“Great,” Ridley snarled. “Anything else?”
Rapp thought for a moment. “Actually, yes. End with this—it’s time to put some fuck sticks in the dirt. That should do the trick.”