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.While the money sounded great, he knew the job would bore him to death.He needed something that would both pay well and test his skill.He found it one day when they discovered that one of their DGSE informants was playing both sides of the fence.Due to this informant's duplicity a fellow DGSE agent had been picked up by the Syrian secret police and had gone missing.There was little doubt within DGSE headquarters that the agent was sitting in a Syrian jail getting beaten with rubber hoses.Gould wanted to kill the informer himself, but his superior, who also happened to be a former paratrooper, told him that was not how they handled things.What he saw next opened his eyes to a whole new world.His boss called a contract agent and in less than two minutes arranged to have the informant disposed of.Gould's job was to deliver the cash to the contract agent.On his way to the dead drop he pulled over and counted the money.The attachй was filled with twenty thousand francs, more than half of what he earned in a single year.All for killing some worthless, self-serving asshole.Looking back on it now, the decision had been relatively easy.He drove straight past the dead drop and called his boss's office.It was past eight in the evening and Gould knew he would not be there.He left him a message, telling him he was changing careers, and that he'd fax him his resignation.His first stop was a bar where the informant liked to hang out.Gould walked in, the bar was crowded, but he found the man with little difficulty.They had met face-to-face a dozen times, usually in this smoky dive.Gould made eye contact and nodded for the man to follow him.They met near the back door and Gould said, "They are onto you.I need to get you out of here now." Gould stepped into the narrow, dark alley and the idiot followed him without hesitation.After walking only a few steps, Gould put an arm out like he was going to usher the man along and then in a flash he grabbed the man by the back of the neck with his right and brought his left hand up with blinding speed.The four-inch blade of his knife plunged into the man's chest and the two men stood clutching each other, eye to eye, for what seemed like a minute.Gould felt no shame, even as the man began to release his grip and slide to the dirty ground.He wanted him to die, he wanted him to feel the pain and see the look of hatred in his killer's eyes.Gould looked back on it now and shook his head in embarrassment.What he had done that night was very stupid-very impulsive.Things could have gone awry at any moment.There could have been surveillance, someone could have recognized him, or worst of all, the man could have shot him in the back as they entered the alley.It seemed like it was all ages ago, and in terms of his skill level, it was.Back then he wouldn't have had a prayer against a man like Mitch Rapp, but now their skills were more even, and with surprise on Gould's side, the deck was stacked in his favor.THE CAB PULLED underneath the car park in front of the Hyatt in downtown Montreal and Gould got out.It was 9:36 in the morning.He subtly began to inventory the surrounding area while the driver handed the bellman his suitcase.Gould paid the driver, tipped the bellman, and then casually followed him into the lobby.The attractive woman behind the reception desk informed him that she would have a room ready for him in thirty minutes.She directed him to the restaurant.Gould picked a table with a nice view of the lobby and asked the waitress if she could get him a copy of the Washington Post.They did not carry the Post, but they did have the New York Times.He told her that would be fine.She returned a few minutes later with a pot of coffee and the paper.Gould ordered an omelet with a side of fruit and started in on the paper.From time to time he looked up to see who was coming through the door.He also noted the other patrons in the restaurant and those in the lobby.No one stood out.They all fit the profile of countless business travelers going through their morning rituals the world over.Eat, read, and get ready for whatever the day might bring.Gould was on his second cup of coffee when the omelet arrived.Not long after that the receptionist came over and handed him a small envelope containing his room number and cardkey.She informed him that his luggage would be sent up momentarily.Gould thanked her and she went back behind the reception desk.Midway through the meal he moved onto the sports page.He quickly found out that Washington was at home this weekend.Gould wondered if Rapp was a Redskins fan.If he was, it might present an opportunity.He'd finished the omelet and was picking at his fruit when the FedEx man entered the lobby with a two-wheeler.Gould immediately recognized his box sitting on the bottom with a stack of smaller boxes and air letters balanced on top of it.This was all a good sign.The box was to be delivered by 10:00 a.m.With such a tight schedule there was very little time for customs to screen the package and set up any type of a sting.The more likely scenario was that they would have seized the box at the airport.The FedEx man stopped at the concierge desk and wiggled the two-wheeler out from underneath the stack.The concierge signed for packages and the FedEx man left in a hurry [ Pobierz całość w formacie PDF ]