Epilogue
KUWAIT INTERNATIONAL AIRPORT
KUWAIT CITY, KUWAIT
HOW the hell do you pick a dry country for our linkup?”
Rapp looked from his sparkling water to his mentor, who was seated on the stool next to him. “I didn’t ask you to come.”
“Bullshit. You dropped a tractor trailer full of chemical weapons into the water of Kuwait’s busiest port. If that ain’t a desperate cry for help, I don’t know what is.”
Rapp started to smile, but winced as the gesture pulled at the bruises on his face. Between his five-story drop into the ocean and his collision with an RPG, he was still feeling a bit the worse for wear. The dizziness had faded, but the headaches and sensitivity to light and loud noises remained.
That was why he’d chosen the nautical-themed café to pass the time until his international flight boarded. The food was horrible, which meant the patrons were few and the staff weren’t concerned with presenting a welcoming atmosphere.
Empty, dark, and quiet—just what the doctor ordered.
Or at least it had been quiet until Stan Hurley strolled in. How the old cuss had managed to track him down, Rapp didn’t know. But Hurley was bound and determined to impart some old-guy wisdom whether Rapp wanted it or not.
Rapp took a swallow of the sparkling water.
Hurley was right—a club soda was no substitute for a cold beer.
“Hell of a job by the way,” Hurley said. “You shorted out the bomb’s electronics and degraded the chemical agents in one fell swoop. How’d you know dumping the truck into the ocean would work?”
“I didn’t.”
“See, this is why we needed to debrief. For fuck’s sake, don’t say those words ever again.”
Rapp took another swallow.
“What’s eating ya, kid?”
Rapp rubbed the condensation from his glass with his thumb. “I’m not sure I should get an attaboy for this one. I stopped the chemical attack, but the Hezbollah brothers are still in the wind, and the Kuwaiti ambassador’s still dead.”
Hurley shrugged. “The ambassador isn’t on you.
They whacked her to goad the president into attending the event in Kuwait City, sure.
But the cavemen who traffic in radical Islam have had it out for her for years.
It was only a matter of time before someone punched her ticket.
And as far as your Hezbollah bros go, I got them bumped to the top of the Orion list just like I promised. They’ll get theirs.”
“Can you add another name?”
Hurley rolled his eyes. “For you, anything. Who?”
“Rafique Aziz. He designed the bomb and helped the Pakistani scientist integrate the chemical weapons. I don’t think we’ve seen the last of him.”
“Consider it done.”
“Thank you,” Rapp said.
“What else?”
Rapp frowned. “I’m not sure how this ends. We scratch one name off the Orion list and add two more. That doesn’t sound like progress.”
Hurley shrugged. “Shit, kid. That’s the gig.
If you came into this thinking you’d eventually work yourself out of a job, I’ve got bad news.
The world is a big old evil place and there are new shitbirds taking the place of old shitbirds every single day.
The grass is never gonna stop growing. That’s why our job is to mow it. ”
Rapp said nothing.
“Look—Irene is already cracking the whip on her analysts to lock down those Hezbollah assholes, but the computer weenies aren’t all-knowing. I’d say you’ve got a couple weeks downtime coming. Why don’t you head back to the States and reconnect?”
Rapp looked at Hurley. “Reconnect with what?”
“Your mom, brother, apple pie, baseball. Hell, I don’t know. What am I, your goddamn shrink? Here’s what I’ve learned from doing this job longer than you’ve been alive—working undercover takes something out of you. To stay sane, you have to put something else back in.”
“That might be the most profound thing you’ve ever said.”
“Fuck off.”
Rapp finished his drink and grabbed his luggage. “I appreciate the advice. Really. And I’m going to take it. I’ve got a couple-day layover scheduled on my way home.”
Hurley eyed him, the suspicion plain on his face. “Where?”
Rapp smiled. “Italy.”
Hurley sighed. “You listen about as well as my ex-wife. Go live your life, Romeo, but tell me this: How do I get ahold of you?”
“Easy—just look up.”