JК
The Third Option :: Flynn Vince
Страница: 35 из 267With the fire raging back at theestate, it would take at least an hour, he hoped, for them to discover that the car he was driving was missing, and even then they might not realize the importance of it. One thing was certain, however: when the German federal police found out that the assassins had gained access to the estate by posing as BKA agents, a dragnet would be thrown the likes of which the country probably hadn't seen since the old divided days of east and west. Radios moved much faster than cars, and that meant he might have to part company with his new wheels before Frankfurt.
The car flew down the road at more than eighty miles an hour. Rapp ignored the pain in his chest and his throbbing headache and focused on the problem. He had to disappear. He had to get out of Germany and find out who in the hell had set him up. A frightening thought gripped Rapp, driving him to near panic. Cursing, he pushed the accelerator all the way to the floor. There was a problem that needed to be dealt with immediately. Rapp weighed the risks of making the call from his digital phone. No, there were too many security issues. As much as he hated the delay, the call would have to wait.
6
Anna Rielly unlocked the front door of the small cottage-style home. Behind her, the day's final shadows were stretching across the rolling Maryland countryside. She was happy to be out of the city after another hectic week of following the president. When she took the job as White House correspondent for NBC, she I had never fully imagined how much running around it would entail. She stepped into the entryway, setting her black purse and an overnight bag down on the bench to her right. As she hung her coat in the closet, she noticed one of Mitch's draped over the banister and hung it up, too.
Rielly grinned to herself as she started up the stairs. Mitch Rapp had lived alone for too many years. In the master bedroom, she dropped her overnight bag to the hardwood floor with a thump and began working the buttons of her blue blouse. She walked over to the French doors that looked out over the Chesapeake Bay and sighed. Rielly doubted she would ever tire of the view. She adored the cottage – it spoke volumes about the man she had fallen in love with – the man she wanted to spend the rest of her life with. Rielly stripped down to her underwear and discarded her bra with the hope that she wouldn't have to put one back on until she left for work on Monday morning.
She looked out at the bay, enjoying the last reflections of Friday's light, and then glimpsed herself in the closet mirror to her right.
The car flew down the road at more than eighty miles an hour. Rapp ignored the pain in his chest and his throbbing headache and focused on the problem. He had to disappear. He had to get out of Germany and find out who in the hell had set him up. A frightening thought gripped Rapp, driving him to near panic. Cursing, he pushed the accelerator all the way to the floor. There was a problem that needed to be dealt with immediately. Rapp weighed the risks of making the call from his digital phone. No, there were too many security issues. As much as he hated the delay, the call would have to wait.
6
Anna Rielly unlocked the front door of the small cottage-style home. Behind her, the day's final shadows were stretching across the rolling Maryland countryside. She was happy to be out of the city after another hectic week of following the president. When she took the job as White House correspondent for NBC, she I had never fully imagined how much running around it would entail. She stepped into the entryway, setting her black purse and an overnight bag down on the bench to her right. As she hung her coat in the closet, she noticed one of Mitch's draped over the banister and hung it up, too.
Rielly grinned to herself as she started up the stairs. Mitch Rapp had lived alone for too many years. In the master bedroom, she dropped her overnight bag to the hardwood floor with a thump and began working the buttons of her blue blouse. She walked over to the French doors that looked out over the Chesapeake Bay and sighed. Rielly doubted she would ever tire of the view. She adored the cottage – it spoke volumes about the man she had fallen in love with – the man she wanted to spend the rest of her life with. Rielly stripped down to her underwear and discarded her bra with the hope that she wouldn't have to put one back on until she left for work on Monday morning.
She looked out at the bay, enjoying the last reflections of Friday's light, and then glimpsed herself in the closet mirror to her right.