Bennett decided to tip the last card in her hand. ‘Because you have a vested interest,’ she replied. ‘And so do I.’ She took one last swig of coffee. ‘You need something to get you back in. I’m surrounded by colleagues who think I should be doing their filing. We both need a win.’

She picked up both of their empty cups and put them in the sink. ‘And, besides, what else have you got going on today?’

Knox quickly considered his options. The easiest, of course, was to send Bennett on her way. But he had no more leads beyond the Italians’ equations and passports, and there was every chance the men who had come after him last night were still roaming the streets looking for him—for all he knew, under Manning’s orders. Now he was permanent director general, Knox would need something big to bring Manning down. Something very big. Something like catching him red-handed working for the Russians. Knox might not be able to save Holland from being dethroned, but maybe he could still avenge him. He decided he may as well take a look down Bennett’s rabbit hole and see where it led.

‘Nothing,’ he answered, now smirking himself.

With perfect timing, his front door swung shut. Knox’s overnight companion had finally decided to take their leave.

‘Great,’ Bennett replied. ‘Now go get cleaned up. Our plane leaves in two hours.’

Chapter 36

Chapter 36

Stockholm looked like a chocolate-box fantasy to Valera. Its ancient buildings and winding streets were immaculate. No cobbles had been pulled up for makeshift weapons, no old doors taken off their hinges for firewood. The bridges between the islands that made up the city were lit up, even late into the night.

Valera had been taken to the Hotel Reisen, on the edge of Gamla Stan, the ancient heart of Stockholm, as soon as she’d arrived in the city. The hotel building dated back to the 1700s, but its rooms were spacious and modern. Valera’s was almost as large as her entire home and lab in Povenets B combined.

After devouring a small plate of meat and cheese and a glass of akvavit that had been sent up to her compliments of the night manager, she was left alone. She’d carefully placed both backpacks in the room’s large closet, which had been filled with more clothes for her, then stood at the window, staring out at the water below her until the adrenaline she’d been running on finally ran out and she crawled into the large, soft bed.

In the morning, she was woken by a knock at the door and a week’s worth of breakfast. She ate all of it. Then she chose an outfit from the closet—a simple, plain tunic and pair of wide-legged trousers—and got dressed. Half an hour later there was a second knock. This time it was a tall, blond, young man.