behind the first. The assassin resisted the urge to raise his rifle and shoot the spotter with the cell phone.
Instead, he turned to the two big Americans and in near flawless English said, "I think you guys better call for some backup."
Chapter 16
THE sparse waiting area held four people, a dog, three cats, and a bird. The bird was in a cage behind the receptionist's counter as well as the two cats that were sleeping in wicker baskets. A little boy not more than eight held the leash of a small pooch while his mother sat protectively next to him. An elderly man with a cigarette dangling from his mouth cradled a sickly-looking black cat that was missing large clumps of hair. The old man looked depressed. Neither adult made eye contact, but the little boy gave Rapp a friendly smile. Rapp returned the gesture with a nod of thanks. Most of the people in Kabul tried to ignore foreigners, and Rapp didn't blame them one bit. Their country had been at near constant war for thirty years. There were others who stared you down as if they wanted to kill you, and a small minority who would smile and maybe even say hello.
Rapp approached the blue Formica reception desk. A nice young woman in a black hijab looked up at him and asked in English, "How may I help you?"
"Do I look that American?" Rapp asked, trying to seem offended.
"No, but he does." She pointed over Rapp's shoulder at Coleman.
Rapp turned around and looked at his friend's blond hair and blue eyes. Coleman's Northern European ethnicity made it nearly impossible for him to blend in on ops like this. "Yeah," Rapp said, "he works for the United Nations. I think he's Swedish or something like that. I can't understand a thing he says. At any rate, we were hoping to speak with Dr. Amin."
"I'm sorry, but he's at the university right now."
"Do you expect him back this afternoon?"
"Normally not, but if we're busy he stops by on his way home. May I ask what you need to discuss with him?"
Rapp hesitated. He was not used to sharing information, but this woman seemed nice enough, and she might be able to save him a step. "It's a rather important matter." Rapp retrieved his Joe Cox credentials emblazoned in gold with the seal of the United States and the all-important, somewhat vague words Federal Officer, raised and embossed. "We're trying to track down a missing person. We were told that he brought his dog to your clinic about a month ago. He was an American and his dog was a Rottweiler. Do you remember anyone like that?"
She shook her head. "No, but I'm only here part-time. Do you have a name?"
Rickman had more than a few aliases as well. Rapp had no idea if he had used one, so he started with Rickman's real name. The receptionist spun her chair around and crab-walked the chair over to a row of file cabinets. Rapp looked over his shoulder to find Coleman with his arms folded across his chest and shaking his head.
"Swedish? What in the hell is wrong with you?"
Rapp started to laugh, and then his eyes caught something beyond the glass doors. His left hand slid between the folds of his jacket and around the grip of his 9mm Glock. The change in Rapp's demeanor didn't go unnoticed by Coleman, who did a casual 180-degree turn to see what was going on. Rapp could scarcely believe his eyes. It was as if a ghost had walked out of his not-so-distant past. Nearly four years ago, to be exact. He watched the man walk past Reavers and Maslick, stopping briefly to point at something down the street. In Rapp's mind it was a move to distract them, but Rapp could not be distracted. Not by this man. He drew his gun and lined the sights up on the head of the man who had killed his wife.
The receptionist said something, but Rapp didn't hear her. He was too intent on the man coming through the door. The only thing that prevented Rapp from shooting him on the spot was that he had his hands in the air in what seemed to be a genuine posture of surrender.
Coleman said, "Is that who I think it is?"
"Yes."
One of the glass doors opened and the assassin stepped slowly into the lobby. He glanced at Coleman and then focused on Rapp. "We need to talk