air with his arm, telling Kassar to leave. The impudent man took a long pull from his cigarette, shrugged, and then disappeared. Hovering over Rickman, Durrani said, "Are you taking anything for the pain?"
"Yes." Rickman squirmed a bit in an effort to lift his head. "It's not as bad as it looks . . . at least not compared to the beating I had to go through."
"What can I get you?"
"Nothing. I just want to lie here."
Durrani's gaze narrowed. He had no great knowledge of medicine or the human anatomy, but he had been involved in plenty of interrogations. A good number of them had ended in death, and it wasn't always because the heart gave out. There had been plenty of cases in which the subject died from infection. The infections were no surprise considering the squalor of the cells. Add to that the way the nervous system was assaulted and the lack of sleep, and it was no wonder the immune system crashed and the patient died. Durrani decided at that exact moment that he would have his doctor here within the hour. He was former Army and was cleared to work with the ISI. He was also sympathetic to the cause of Pakistani self-determination. There was always a risk, of course, but Durrani could have him killed later if there was a problem.
Rickman stifled a cough and asked, "What about Rapp?"
This was the one part Durrani had been dreading. Everything else had worked so well. "He escaped death, but do not worry. He has other problems."
Rickman tried to sit up, but didn't make it very far before a coughing fit ensued and he was forced to lie back down. Blood began to trickle from his mouth as he said, "I can't believe this."
"Calm down. Do not upset yourself."
"I told you, Rapp absolutely had to be dealt with. It was the one part of the operation that couldn't fail."
"I know," Durrani said, prepared to deflect, "but your assassin didn't take the shot."
"What do you mean?"
"He walked across the street to the clinic and surrendered himself to Rapp."
"I don't believe you."
"Well, you'd better. I had two of my best men there, and I lost one of them. Your assassin marched right across the street and presented himself to Rapp. Your man failed, so I had to use my backup. General Qayem sent in his men and it was a bloodbath."
"Bloodbath?"
"Twenty-one men were killed."
Rickman was shell-shocked. "How many people did Rapp have with him?"
"Four." Durrani held up his nicotine-stained fingers, practically yelling. "And then your assassin joined his ranks. I'm told he personally killed a good number of Qayem's men."
Rickman was suddenly feeling every ache and pain. What was it about Rapp? Why wouldn't the man just die? A sense of foreboding weighed on Rickman's chest, and he began to worry that he wouldn't be able to breathe. At that same moment he feared for Hubbard. The plan had been for him to send Rapp to the veterinary clinic. Rickman had thought this through for more than a year. He knew Kennedy would send Rapp to head the search for him, and he knew how Rapp thought better than Rickman himself did. Rickman had carefully left those clues for Rapp, knowing his damn instincts would tell him that certain things didn't add up. If Rapp had survived the trap he had laid for him, that would mean Hubbard was either dead or running for his life. Rickman suddenly wished he could open his eyes so he could read Durrani's face.
"What about Hubbard? Where is he?"
Durrani knew this was inevitable, but the truth was not an option for him. Not if he wanted Rickman to work with him. His friend was already clearly agitated, which was a shame as there was so much to celebrate. The truth was that Durrani had never planned on getting Hubbard out of Afghanistan. Where was he supposed to hide a six-foot-five-inch, bald, pasty American in a country filled with dark-skinned men where the average height was five-seven? He'd gone along with Rickman's desire to bring Hubbard to Pakistan because it was the only way to get him to agree to the plan, but in truth he knew he would kill Hubbard from the onset.
"It pains me to tell you that your friend is dead."
Rickman swallowed hard. "Are you sure?"
"Yes."
"How did it happen?"
"We think it was Rapp, but we're not sure."
Rickman's battered body tensed and he yelled, "Did you do anything right?"