Oath of Loyalty (Mitch Rapp #21)(85)

“Swiss account? What are you talking about?”

“Sadie, I really appreciate you coming here and pretending to be Claudia. It was dangerous as hell, but you pulled it off. We caught Legion and now you can get back to your life.”

“So, let me get this straight. You’re not just leaving me. You’re kicking me out?” Her voice rose to a scream. “Of my own house? This is my home, Mitch! Mine and Anna’s. Not yours. If you want to go back to Virginia, do it. We don’t need you. We never needed you.”

He took a hesitant step forward. “Sadie, listen to me. This isn’t your home. Anna isn’t your daughter. You have a life in New—”

After everything he’d seen over the course of his lifetime, it wasn’t easy to surprise him. But she managed to do just that when she charged. He didn’t want to inflict damage, but an angry Sadie Hansen with a chef’s knife was not a situation to be taken lightly.

But she didn’t come at him as Sadie Hansen. She came at him as Claudia Gould. Slow, straight on, with the blade held high overhead. He grabbed her wrist, spun her around, and brought her hand up behind her back. Not sure what else to do, he clenched a fist and hit her in the back of the head about half force. Her knees crumpled and he lowered her to the floor before kicking the knife away. Behind him, he heard the creak of the kitchen door.

“I told you so,” Bebe Kincaid said.

“That’s really helpful, Bebe. Thanks. Now go out to the shed and find me a roll of duct tape.”



The sound of muffled squeals and thrashing coming from the SUV’s cargo area increased as Rapp slowed. His headlights washed over a line of scrubby trees and then illuminated the turn he was looking for. Just a few more minutes and it’d all be over.

The gravel road climbed steadily, finally dead-ending into an airstrip with a new Gulfstream G700 on it. Through the windscreen, he saw one of the pilots stand and disappear into the back. By the time Rapp pulled up next to the aircraft, the man had the door open and was coming down the stairs.

“Do you have any luggage, sir?” he asked as Rapp got out and went around to the back of the vehicle.

“Not exactly,” he said, opening the tailgate. The pilot’s eyes widened when he saw the cargo, but he managed not to comment. The fact that Sadie was liberally wound with duct tape didn’t prevent her from attempting to kick Rapp in the groin as he tried to get hold of her. It took some effort, but he finally managed to get her over his shoulder and carry her to the plane.

Once inside, he dumped her in a seat and fastened the seat belt over her lap. She continued to thrash, rocking back and forth in an attempt to escape and tear his throat out. Bebe had opted to skip the private jet ride in favor of a cab to the airport. It was hard to blame her.

Sadie’s left contact lens had fallen out and she was staring up at him with one ice-blue eye and one softer brown one. Her hair was stuck haphazardly across her sweating face, and a thin line of snot was running down the silver tape over her mouth. It was hard to ignore the Silence of the Lambs vibe.

“I’m sorry it ended like this,” Rapp said sincerely. The sound of his voice seemed to calm her a bit. Or maybe she was just getting tired. “You put yourself on the line for me and I won’t forget it.”

Another dangerous debt, he reflected as he turned toward the pilots standing near the cockpit.

“Under no circumstances are you to let her loose on this plane,” he said, handing one of them a box cutter. “When you get to the airstrip in New York, drag her onto the tarmac and leave her the knife. Then immediately take off. Understood?”

They nodded numbly.

“That’s not’s good enough,” Rapp said. “Listen to me. She’s going to fight. And probably cry. And if you take the tape off her mouth—which I recommend against—she’s going to tell you she has to take a piss or that she’s having chest pains or something. But what are you not going to do?”

“Let her go,” one of them said after a long pause.

“But…” the other one stammered. “This is a long flight, sir. She probably really will have to use the bathroom.”

“A little wet leather isn’t going to be the end of the world. What will be, though, is her free in a small aircraft over the ocean. Particularly if she gets her hands on that box cutter. So, I’m asking you again. Am I understood?”

This time their nods were a bit more energetic.

“I didn’t hear you.”

“We understand, sir.”

“Then have a good flight.”

He escaped through the open door and instead of going back to the SUV, walked a hundred yards down the dirt road. The stars were a blanket above and a cold wind cut through his sweatshirt like it wasn’t there. Still, he didn’t move again until the jet’s wheels left the ground.





CHAPTER 42


THE WHITE HOUSE

WASHINGTON, DC

USA

THE fact that Darren Hargrave had been directed to the Oval Office suggested he wasn’t going to get the one-on-one audience with the president that he’d requested. After a quick knock on the door, he passed through and confirmed that suspicion.

Anthony was sitting behind his desk and his wife had taken one of the two chairs in front. Hargrave had managed to wrestle a significant amount of power away from her, but nowhere near enough. Particularly now that he had no choice but to hand her a weapon. The question was, how much strength did she have left to wield it?