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Back Enemy at the Gates Save as PDF
Chapters (57)
  1. Cover
  2. Title Page
  3. ACKNOWLEDGMENTS
  4. PROLOGUE
  5. 1
  6. 2
  7. 3
  8. 4
  9. 5
  10. 6
  11. 7
  12. 8
  13. 9
  14. 10
  15. 11
  16. 12
  17. 13
  18. 14
  19. 15
  20. 16
  21. 17
  22. 18
  23. 19
  24. 20
  25. 21
  26. 22
  27. 23
  28. 24
  29. 25
  30. 26
  31. 27
  32. 28
  33. 29
  34. 30
  35. 31
  36. 32
  37. 33
  38. 34
  39. 35
  40. 36
  41. 37
  42. 38
  43. 39
  44. 40
  45. 41
  46. 42
  47. 43
  48. 44
  49. 45
  50. 46
  51. 47
  52. 48
  53. 49
  54. EPILOGUE
  55. More from the Authors
  56. ABOUT THE AUTHORS
  57. Novels by Vince Flynn

It wasn’t bad. Faux hardwood floors, heavy curtains, and Oriental rugs lent a stylish utilitarianism that avoided the Saudi tendency toward garishness. He’d chosen it for tactical reasons, but no point in complaining about a decent kitchen and comfortable mattress. Particularly after so many years sleeping in bombed-out buildings and caves.

It was 11 p.m. by the time he unpacked but still he changed into running clothes and headed for the door. It wouldn’t raise any major alarms—the Arabs tended to be night owls in general and avoided exercising in daytime temperatures that were currently exceeding 105 degrees Fahrenheit. He hit the elevator button that corresponded to the parking garage and after a few moments stepped back out into it.

Empty.

Preferable, but not really critical to what he was there to do. Walking by Singh’s parked car, he knelt and made a show of tying his shoe. Nothing he was doing was particularly creative or high tech, but with no Agency support, it was the best he could come up with.

As he stood, he stuck a cell phone to the inside of the vehicle’s fender with the aid of some epoxy putty. It would provide a way to track the man’s movements and hopefully lead to something interesting. But the clock was ticking. Saudi Arabia’s facial recognition software would eventually kick the airport photos of him out for further analysis. And then there was the phone he was using as a tracer. It was in a battery case and the app was designed to maximize battery life, but he wouldn’t get more than a couple of days out of it.

With Gideon Auma’s ransom video out in the wild, though, Rapp had a hunch that two days would be enough. The moment it hit the Internet, Singh would go from critical operative to untidy loose end. And in Rapp’s experience, the Saudis didn’t much care for untidy loose ends. They’d move against the man. Soon.

36

RIYADH, SAUDI ARABIA

RAPP adjusted himself into a more comfortable position on the sofa and dug some noodles from the takeout carton balanced on his chest. Not the best he’d ever eaten, but not the worst, either. After a quick shake to dislodge the last few vegetables from the bottom, he set the box on the coffee table and returned to his phone.

Despite the fact that he was using a sophisticated VPN to hide his tracks on the Internet, he kept his surfing generic. Mostly Al Jazeera’s Arabic site with a quick detour to scroll through the headlines on Google News.