He went down the same way he’d gone up, two at a time, except that he wasn’t as tired this time. He took the latex gloves off just before he came upon two employees who were smoking by the back door. Rapp ignored them and pushed through into the bright afternoon sunlight. He turned left and walked at a brisk pace, but nothing that would bring any extra notice. He was just a busy guy trying to get back to his office after lunch.
A block later he looked around, but there was no Hurley. Rapp didn’t wait. He continued up Rue Lord Byron and contemplated why Hurley had decided to screw him. He must have had second thoughts about how Stansfield would react. There was a good chance they’d put a price on his head, but there wasn’t anything he could do about it now. He’d have to get to the closest Metro stop and get as far away as a train could take him.
His thoughts turned to Greta. Stansfield would take care of her, and he would also do his best to make sure that Rapp never saw her again. Her grandfather was their clandestine banker. He allowed them to move operational funds without tipping off the wrong people. His function within their group was crucial. The man would be livid when he found out his granddaughter had been placed in harm’s way by one of Stansfield’s assassins, but Rapp knew he would have to risk seeing her just one more time. He would never forgive himself if he didn’t.
The black Mercedes raced up alongside him. Hurley stuck his head out the open window and asked, “You need a ride?”
Rapp stopped and shook his head. “Where the hell were you?”
“Some damn traffic cop made me move. I had to drive around the block.”
Rapp climbed in and Hurley gunned the engine. Rapp’s adrenaline hangover kicked in and he rolled down his window for some fresh air.
“How’d it go?” Hurley asked.
“Pretty good.” Rapp reached in and grabbed the two envelopes. He opened the second one he hadn’t checked and found Hurley’s ugly mug staring back at him. “Look at this. He was going to sell your ass out, too.”
Hurley looked over. “What an asshole. I was the kicker.”
They took the next block in silence and then Rapp asked, “How much trouble am I in?”
“I’m not sure. I’ve been trying to figure it out, but I think it might be a good idea for you to lie low for a while.”
“Yeah . . . you’re probably right.”
“Where do you want me to drop you off?”
“There’s a Metro stop two blocks up. That should work.”
Hurley nodded and said, “I haven’t been very fair to you. I apologize for that.” Hurley pulled the car into an open space. “Check in with me in a few weeks. I’ll see if I can smooth things over.”
Rapp handed Hurley his dossier. “I appreciate it.”
“Take care of yourself.”
“You, too.” Rapp got out of the car and then looked back in at Hurley and said, “Four dead assholes. Not a bad afternoon.”
“I’d say it was a pretty good one.”
“Good luck.”
“You too, kid.”
Rapp closed the door and watched Hurley drive away. In a strange way he felt like his own man for the first time in two years. No one to answer to, and no place to be for the foreseeable future. He’d get on a train and then a plane and disappear for a few months. See what it was like to try to live a normal life. Rapp moved with the other people down the stairs into the Metro. By the time he reached the platform he knew it was all wishful thinking. He’d be back if they’d have him. He wasn’t like other people and he never would be. They had changed him forever.
