Free The Third Option by Vince Flynn

held and stuck it in front of the man's face. «Take it. We are not going to Essen. You're taking me to Frankfurt.»
    After taking the money, the cab driver nodded slowly, and Rapp pulled the gun back an inch, allowing the man to straighten his head. Rapp checked the driver's credentials on the glove box. His name was Geoffrey Herman.
    «Geoffrey, you're going too slow. Speed it up, and keep your eyes on the road.» Rapp watched the speedometer and asked, «Ever had this happen before?»
    The driver nodded his head and croaked his reply through a pair of parched lips.
    This was a good development. The man had walked through the desert and survived. «Well, I can promise you this. If you do everything I say, nothing will happen to you. I will get out of your cab, and you will have made a lot of money for driving someone to Frankfurt. If you try anything funny, you're dead. That's our deal. No negotiating.»
    Geoffrey nodded enthusiastically, but he was still obviously terrified. Rapp knew he had to calm him down so they wouldn't get into an accident. «Why don't you have a cigarette and relax? We've got a long drive ahead of us.»
    The driver nervously fished for his smokes and lit one up. Now came the interesting part for Rapp. He had a little more than two hours to cultivate a bond with this man. Mitch didn't like to kill people, and he would do everything possible to avoid having to off this poor sap. There was nothing Geoffrey could give the police that they couldn't get off the surveillance tapes at the airport. The only reason to kill him would be to buy more time, and Rapp hoped to do that in another way.
    «Where are you from, Geoffrey?»
    «Hamburg.»
    «What brought you to Hanover?»
    Still a little nervous, he replied flatly, «I didn't like Hamburg.»
    The conversation got better over the next hour and a half. As Rapp probed, the driver loosened up. He was get- ting a good picture of who Geoffrey Herman was. They passed several police cruisers parked on the side of the autobahn. Each time, Rapp watched Geoffrey to make sure he did nothing to alert them. The driver kept his hands on the steering wheel and his eyes straight ahead. Rapp learned that Geoffrey was divorced and lived alone. He owned the r cab, and he liked working nights. It allowed him to enjoy his days and do as he pleased. He was also a recovered alcoholic, and he reasoned that it helped keep him out of the bars in the evening. The most important thing Rapp learned was that Geoffrey Herman was a convicted felon. He had spent two years in prison for robbery and had no love for the law. Rapp couldn't have been happier with the news.
    It was almost two in the morning when Geoffrey announced that he should call his dispatcher. He had told her he would check in after he dropped his fare off in Essen. Rapp thought about it momentarily and asked, «Do you have to go back to the airport, or are you done for the night?»
    «I'm done when I want to be done. I own the cab.»
    Geoffrey should not have offered that piece of information so freely, Rapp thought. «Would it be unusual for you re to call it a night at this time?»
    «Not at all. You were my last fare of the night.»
    Rapp took a second to think it over and said, «Go ahead ld and call in. Tell them everything went well, and you're going to call it a night.»
    Rapp watched Geoffrey dial the number on his cell phone and leaned forward to listen to the conversation. The female dispatcher sounded genuinely tired and disinterested. The call lasted no more than ten seconds. After they said goodbye, Rapp took the phone and turned it off. Watching Geoffrey's face closely, he asked, «Was that your normal dispatcher?»
    Without hesitation, he nodded yes. «Her name is Sheila. I've worked with her for five years.»
    Sinking back into the seat, Rapp breathed a sigh of relief. The BKA had yet to pick up his trail. If they had, they would have tried to keep Geoffrey on the phone. Rapp looked at the map on his lap