Book Description

 

On the front lines of the global war on terror, CIA superagent Mitch Rapp races to save one more life: his own.

An eye for an eye: that's what the powerful father of a dead terrorist demands in retribution -- and with his hate-filled plea, Mitch Rapp becomes the target of an explosive international conspiracy. The fearless operative has both killed with impunity and tortured to avert disaster, all in a battle to preserve freedom. But even among America's allies, some believe the time has come to bring Rapp down. Now the hunter is the hunted, and Rapp must rely on his razor-sharp instincts for survival -- and justice -- as he unleashes his fury on those who have betrayed him.

Excerpt:

Chapter 1

LANGLEY, VIRGINIA

 

Rapp stood in front of his boss's desk. He'd been offered a chair but had declined. The sun was down, it was getting late, he'd rather be at home with his wife, but he wanted to get this thing taken care of. The file was an inch thick. It pissed him off. There was no other way to describe it. He wanted it gone. Off his desk, so he could move on to something else--something more important, and probably more irritating, but for now he simply wanted to make this particular problem go away.

His hope was that Kennedy would simply read the summary and hand it back to him. But that wasn't how she liked to do things. You didn't become the first female director of the CIA by cutting corners. She had a photographic memory and a hyperanalytical mind. She was like one of those high-end mainframe computers that sit in the basement of large insurance companies, churning through data, discerning trends and risks and a billion other things. Kennedy's grasp of the overall situation was second to none. She was the depository of all information, including, and especially, the stuff that could never be made public. Like the file that was on her desk right now.

He watched her flip through the pages with great speed and then backtrack to check on certain inconsistencies that he had no doubt were there. Preparing these reports was not his specialty. His skill set had more to do with the other end of the business. There were times when she would read his work with a pen in hand. She'd make corrections and jot down notes in the margins, but this was not one of those times. This particular pile of crap was one of those things that could turn out to be toxic. The type of thing that would ruin careers like a tornado headed for a trailer park. Kennedy knew when he came to her office, either early in the morning or late in the day, and refused to sit, that it was a good idea to keep the cap on her pen. She knew what he wanted, so she kept reading and said nothing.

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Copyright (c) 2005 Vince Flynn