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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

“Well done!” the driver said in heavily accented English. His tone suggested he was prouder of his language skills than he should have been. “But what of your friend? He decides not to come? This is very bad decision. My colleague is a man of no humor.”

Rapp didn’t respond. The truth was it had to happen this way. If it had just been Isa, they could have worked something out. But it wasn’t just him. By now, the Saudis had almost certainly found the dead men at his house and would already be watching his wife and children. If he didn’t turn up quickly, they’d be arrested and used against him. He’d always been smart. And in this case that meant being capable of understanding that his luck had run out. That everyone would be better off if he were dead.

“What you need is in the bag on the floor. The one on the right. That one on the left has no meaning. Not now. It was for your friend.”

He dug in, finding a Ziploc bag containing a set of hair clippers, shaving implements, and a pair of tweezers.

“The tweezers are to make your eyebrows much more beautiful,” the driver explained. Based on his jovial tone, it was likely that he was from the smuggling part of Claudia’s list. High-end smugglers were generally the smartest and most cheerful of the criminal class. Creatives, she would call them.

“Look at the passport, my good friend.”

He found it in the top zipper pocket and used his penlight to examine an old, beardless photo of him that had been put through some kind of filter to turn him into a woman. His eyebrows really did look much more beautiful.

The main part of the bag contained a padded body suit to round out his hips and add an ample set of breasts. The final insult, though, was at the bottom. A pair of tennis shoes covered in gold glitter and topped with pink laces. He held them up and the driver glanced in the rearview mirror.

“They will help you move quickly, though I think it will not be required. And my wife tells me they are the very latest fashion!”

41

RAPP’S driver bypassed the private airport’s small but opulent terminal, piloting the Rolls through seemingly endless rows of private jets. The sleek white shapes of Cessnas, Gulfstreams, and Bombardiers glowed dimly in the light from the main building, descending into shadow as they drove deeper into them. Through the windshield, the glare from the open door of a Global 7500 became visible. A Saudi official stood by the steps and Rapp was relieved to see that it was a man.