The Last Man: A Novel (A Mitch Rapp Novel)
Vince Flynn
Language: English
Pages: 512
ISBN: 1416595236
Format: PDF / Kindle (mobi) / ePub
Mitch Rapp’s hunt for a missing CIA asset raises the stakes for his own survival—in Vince Flynn’s “tight, right, and dynamite” (Star Tribune, Minneapolis) #1 New York Times bestseller.
The head of clandestine operations in Afghanistan has been kidnapped, his four bodyguards executed in cold blood. With the CIA plunged into crisis mode, Rapp is dispatched to find his missing friend, Joe Rickman, at all costs. He isn’t the only one looking for Rickman; an FBI special agent is at his heels, determined to blame Rapp for the bloody debacle. Rapp is, however, the only one who knows certain things about the vanished black ops master—secrets that in the wrong hands could prove disastrous. With elements of his own government undermining him—and America’s security—at every turn, Rapp must be as ruthless and deceitful as his enemies to complete this razor’s-edge mission.
that’s what Rapp had thought at the time. “I told you we should have brought him along,” Hurley said, referring to Gould. “The little shit lied to us.” Gould had told them that Obrecht had been more than his private banker. He was also his handler, setting up contracts and negotiating prices with his prospective employers. “So he knows who hired you to kill me?” Rapp had asked back in the interrogation cell. Gould would not commit to that point, as Obrecht rarely met face-to-face with
now, but I’m telling you . . . down the road they’ll bail on our asses so fast it’ll make your head spin.” “You’re probably right, but what in the hell are we going to do about it? We either play by the book and watch it all fall apart or we get rough and hope we get him back before he spills the family jewels.” “I know what we have to do, and I’m willing to do it, but you’re not going to convince me that those clowns in D.C. will support us for a second.” Nash didn’t have much faith in his
weapon, turned on the EOTech sight, and brought the weapon up to his right shoulder. Standing five feet back from the window he sighted in the front door of the clinic. With both eyes open, the red dot balanced perfectly on the door handle. At this short distance there would be no need for a tripod or shooting stick. At this distance he wouldn’t need the 3x magnifier, but he flipped it into place nonetheless. He wanted to see if there was anyone out there watching him. He started to his left and
Rapp held up his hand and let it wobble back and forth. “It’s a little iffy.” Hayek gave him a suspicious look. “What’s my name?” Rapp smiled. “I know you’re from Michigan.” “That’s correct.” For reasons that he didn’t know at the time and couldn’t explain later, he reached out and grabbed her hand. “I’m sorry. I feel like you’re important to me. That we’ve shared something that could be important.” It wasn’t easy to see Hayek blush with her smooth olive skin, but she was. Her lips formed a
your point is?” O’Brien asked as if all of this made perfect sense. “We’re shooters,” Rapp said, waving his thumb back and forth between Hurley and himself. “If we had hit that safe house it would have been no different. One shot in each guy’s head. If we’d brought Scott along with his guys, there would have been some double taps . . . but my point is there’s always a pattern. Good shooters are disciplined shooters. It doesn’t matter how mad we get, we don’t empty magazines into people just