American Assassin by Vince Flynn Read Free Book Online

thinking about the match, going through it move by move wondering what he could have done differently, when Victor appeared next to his cot.
    “What’s your name?” he asked in a hushed voice.
    Rapp glanced over to the door where one of the instructors was giving orders to one of the other guys.
    “Irv.”
    “No, dumbass.” He shook his head. “I mean your real name.”
    Rapp was starting to think he didn’t like Victor. He’d been warned by his recruiter repeatedly that talking about your personal life was grounds for immediate dismissal from the program. Just ten minutes earlier, while they were eating, the instructors had reminded them of this again. Rapp impassively looked up and said, “Didn’t you hear what the instructors told us?”
    A lopsided grin fell across the other man’s face. “That’s just a bunch of BS. It’s a game. They’re just trying to fuck with us.” He glanced over his shoulder to make sure no one was close enough to hear and said, “Come on … where you from.”
    “What’s your angle?”
    “Huh?”
    “What are you up to?”
    “Just trying to get to know the guys … that’s all.”
    “Try not to take this the wrong way, but it’s none of your business who I am or where I’m from.”
    “Is that so?” His face flushed a bit and his jaw tightened. “I’ll tell you something. I don’t need you telling me what is and isn’t my business.”
    Rapp didn’t like his predicament. He was on his back and vulnerable, but he didn’t want Victor to think he was easily intimidated. “It’s not me telling you,” he said in a casual voice, “It’s them.” Rapp looked over at the instructor by the door.
    The instructor finished whatever he was saying and left. It was just the seven recruits now.
    Victor started laughing. “There goes your mother. Looks like your ass is mine.”
    Rapp decided lying down was no longer the best position to be in. He quickly swung his legs off the cot and stood. In a conversational tone that was loud enough for the others to hear he said, “What’s your problem, Victor?”
    “You’re my problem.”
    “I gathered that,” Rapp said from the other side of the cot, “but could you be a little more specific. Maybe it’s something I could fix.”
    “I doubt it,” the bigger man said with disdain. “You look soft to me. Like you don’t belong here.”
    “Well … why don’t we find out.” Rapp gestured to the wrestling mat.
    Victor laughed as if the idea was preposterous. “You don’t stand a chance.”
    Rapp nodded as if to say maybe, maybe not, and walked over to the edge of the mat. “I’m sorry about your mother, Victor.”
    “What did you just say?” Victor asked.
    “I said,” Rapp half yelled, “I’m sorry about your mom.”
    “You’d better watch yourself!” Victor’s eyes had taken on a wild glare.
    “Or what?” Rapp asked.
    The other five guys all dropped what they were doing to see what was going on.
    “You gonna take a swing at me, Victor?” Rapp egged the big man on. He was ready to end this thing right now. “What’s wrong … your mom the neighborhood slut when you were growing up … she didn’t hold you enough when you were little? She let every guy she met suck on her tit except you?”
    “You got a big mouth,” Victor snarled, barely able to contain his rage.
    “Just trying to figure out what’s wrong with you, Victor. You been shooting your mouth off all day. Acting like a world-class prick. We’re all getting sick of it.”
    “I’m going to kick your ass!” Victor howled as he hopped from one foot to the other like a boxer.
    Rapp didn’t say a word. He moved to the middle of the mat and motioned for Victor to join him.
    Victor started whooping and hollering as he danced circles around Rapp. He was throwing shadow punches and explaining in detail what he was going to do to Rapp when suddenly one of the instructors reappeared in the doorway.
    “What in hell are you ladies doing?”
    Victor