Chapters (25)
- Cover
- About the Author
- Also Available by Chris Ryan
- Title page
- Dedication
- Acknowledgements
- Glossary
- Russian Expressions
- Chapter One
- Chapter Two
- Chapter Three
- Chapter Four
- Chapter Five
- Chapter Six
- Chapter Seven
- Chapter Eight
- Chapter Nine
- Chapter Ten
- Chapter Eleven
- Chapter Twelve
- Chapter Thirteen
- Chapter Fourteen
- Chapter Fifteen
- Chapter Sixteen
- Chapter Seventeen
I felt my face colour up and I said quietly to Sasha, ‘If you don’t mind, we’ll meet you in a couple of minutes outside the armoury.’
He got the message and took himself off. The moment he’d gone, I turned on Rick.
‘You stupid bastard! You realise what you’ve done?’
‘No. What’s the matter?’
‘There’s a very good chance you’ve compromised the entire operation. Listen. How did that woman get hold of you?’
‘She phoned.’
‘Exactly. And how did she know your number?’
‘I’d given it to her.’
‘Exactly. Jesus Christ! Are you out of your mind? Who d’you think she’s busy giving your number to now?’
‘What do you mean?’
‘THINK, cunt! Her sister’s been in the grip of the Mafia in New York. The FBI have kicked her out, along with a bunch of other slags. They snatched the whole lot and sent them home. But now she’s in Mafia territory again, worse than New York. The wide boys here have access to the airlines’ passenger lists. They know she’s come back to Moscow. They’ve got her address from before. She’s probably got a Russian pimp here anyway.
‘In other words, they know precisely where she is. And now, because you can’t stop following your prick around, they know precisely where you are. The next thing’ll be a group of four charming young men with Gepards up their jumpers coming to the gate to ask for a fucking interview!’
I wasn’t exactly shouting, but I was talking a lot faster and louder than usual. From the stricken look on Rick’s face, I might as well have been hitting him.
‘They don’t know what I’m doing here,’ he said defensively. ‘All I told Natasha was that we were making a film.’
‘To hell with that. Listen, Rick. You know the score. We’re on a military telephone exchange, for fuck’s sake. One look at the number must have told them where we are.’
To ease my feelings I started walking up and down. ‘Things aren’t looking good for you,’ I said. ‘This is the third time you’ve screwed up. I told you before – and that was a last warning. I’ve got a feeling you’re on your way home. And if this doesn’t end in your getting RTU’d I’ll be bloody amazed.’