The Last Man Read Online Free Page A

someone who clearly meant what he said. The only lifeline that came to mind was the person who had negotiated Zahir into leaving behind his lawless ways.
    “Mr. Sickles is a good friend of mine,” Zahir sputtered. “He is a very good friend. He is a very important man. He will be very upset when he finds out about this.”
    Rapp’s instincts were right. The Kabul station chief had put this goon in a position of power. “Darren Sickles,” Rapp said, with contempt dripping from each word, “is important in his own mind, but that’s about as far as it goes.”
    “He is the CIA’s man here in my country!”
    “He’s an idiot, and the fact that he put you in a police uniform pretty much proves the point, so you’re going to have to come up with something better than Darren Sickles.”
    Zahir licked his dry lips and struggled to find something that would make this American reconsider his vile threat. After an uncomfortably long silence, nothing had come to mind, so Zahir forced a smile on his face and retreated a step. “I think it would be best if I left.”
    Rapp grabbed the man’s uniform shirt. “That’s not an option. You either come up with a way to show me you might be useful, or I’m going to blow your brains all over the floor.”
    Zahir’s eyes showed hope and he said, “Useful?”
    “That’s right.”
    “I can be extremely valuable.”
    “I’m listening.”
    “I know many people . . . I know many things. I can get you anything you want.” Zahir’s nature allowed him to go only so far, and he quickly added, “For the right price, of course.”
    “The right price,” Rapp said, amused by the comment. “I’m going to tell you how this is going to work and that’s only if you can prove to me that I should let you live. You’re not going to get paid a dime. The only thing you’ll get from me is your life, which I would assume is fairly important to you.”
    “It is very important to me, but I am not a wealthy man.”
    “Stop talking about money. You’re boring me and if you bore me enough this negotiation will be over and you’ll be dead.”
    “Tell me what it is you want me to do. I will do anything.”
    Rapp thought about Rickman. The truth was, very few people knew what the man was up to. In a general sense Kennedy and a few others knew his operational orders, but in terms of specifics, Rickman had left them in the dark. Zahir might be able to pull back the curtains on some of those details. “The man who lives here, you know him?”
    “Mr. Rickman . . . very much. Yes. We were good friends.”
    “Let’s not get carried away. Why did you decide to come here this morning?”
    “I was driving by and I saw Mr. Hubbard’s mercenaries. It looked like there was something wrong, so I stopped to investigate.”
    “Do I look stupid, Abdul?”
    “No,” he answered quickly. “I did not say that.”
    “Then tell me the real reason why you stopped.” Rapp watched the man fidget. He was clearly trying to figure out a way to shade the truth. Rapp’s patience was nearly gone, so he took his pistol and tapped Zahir on the top of his head. “I know lying is like breathing to you.” Rapp shook his head as if he were admonishing a child. “You need to fight that. It’s going to get you killed.”
    Zahir rubbed his head with his right hand. “I heard a rumor.”
    “What kind of rumor?”
    “That something had happened to Mr. Rickman.”
    “Keep going.”
    “That something very bad happened. That he was missing.”
    “And you learned this how?”
    Sharing information without getting something back was very foreign to Zahir, so he lied. “One of my men saw Mr. Hubbard leave the base in a panic. I started to make calls and soon found out that something was wrong at Mr. Rickman’s house.”
    “So you were concerned for Mr. Rickman.”
    “Yes.”
    “And that’s why you showed up here acting like a jackass and threatening people.”
    “No, I was concerned.”
    Rapp glanced at his