These are the original novels by the late great Vince Flynn. We are grateful that Kyle Mills has taken up the mantle for Vince's creation of the unequaled Mitch Rapp. Throughout the stories of Rapp, I've never cared for the women he's fallen for, so just for my pleasure and fun, I've begun some Fan Fiction to present The One with whom I believe Rapp should spend the rest of his life. My fun continues:
(You can catch up here and here.)
“How long have you known Irene?”
She cut her gaze away from the mirror to look at him and followed it with staring out the windshield. “About 18 years or so. I don’t get to see her often, but we try to communicate fairly regularly and if possible to have lunch once a month. Doesn’t always happen, but it’s always good when it does. She’s recommended several clients over the years. It’s rewarding to have someone like her have that confidence in me. Truthfully, for her to recommend me to you? Priceless. I didn’t think you’d show up.” She quickly shot a glance at his profile.
“Not sure why I did,” he replied after a few moments passed.
She gave him further directions. He pulled into the tiny parking lot and backed into a spot near the entrance to what resembled a small restaurant where he once had dinner in Rome. Strange to have that memory surface.
Christine collected her purse from the floor and began to open the door.
“Sit tight, Doc.” He got out and did a careful but casual assessment as he rounded the front of the car to open her door.
Once inside the restaurant, they were greeted by a man who immediately extended his hand to grasp Christine’s and bring it to his lips.
“So good to see you again, Christine.” Returning her hand, he extended his to Rapp. “It’s a pleasure, sir." He shook it firmly.
“Follow me. I have your usual table available, cara mia.”
“Thank you, Paolo. How is Rose?”
He led them to the table as he spoke. “She is wonderful as always.” A genuine smile accompanied his words.
Rapp noted it was situated so both of their chairs faced the front door and maintained a clear view of the kitchen’s entrance. He ordered a black espresso, she a tonic water with lime.
“You come here often,” he stated.
“Often as I can which hasn’t been often enough lately.”
A young man with olive skin and a dark ponytail tied back low on his neck set their beverages and menus before them, nodded and left them alone.
Perusing the menus, they closed them simultaneously and sipped their drinks.
“I’m not great at making conversation.”
“A man of few words. I can appreciate that.”
“What about you?”
She gave a brief laugh. “I have a tendency to spill my guts with little provocation. An open book mostly. Except where work is concerned.”
She noticed he gave her that almost smile.
“Husband, boyfriend?” He caught her quick look away and back to him.
“I believe we share a similar circumstance in our distant pasts. My fiancé was KIA. We were told it was in Afghanistan, but I suspect that was a ruse.” She adjusted her posture. “No one even remotely serious since.”
He studied her. She didn’t flinch. “But many have tried?”
She smiled, slightly embarrassed. “Some.”
The young man returned with pad and pencil. Rapp nodded at Christine and she gave him her order. Rapp followed with his. He thanked them and quickly returned to refresh Rapp’s coffee with the dark brew.
Thank you, Lord. This has been rejuvenating and so much fun. Thank you is never enough. In the Name of Jesus, Amen.