“Not really, considering that I have contracts with several presidents of countries in Africa, the Middle East, and even Europe. And I gave everything to your government to do God knows what with. It was the price for my life, and I don’t regret it.” Belyakov stared hard at Zack. “You should be relieved. What you fought for in Malta, preventing innocent blood from spilling—I’m still alive and here because of it.”

“But that’s not justice for what you did to that reporter and his cameraman, who, as I’m sure you figured out, worked for the CIA. You should have paid for that crime,” Zack argued.

“Zachary, in the world in which we operate, justice is a complicated, convoluted thing. I don’t believe in it the way you do. But if it makes you feel better, I did find out who those men were, and needless to say, their families received anonymous trust funds soon after Malta, and they shall never ever want for money. I know it doesn’t bring them back, but after the small mercy you showed me, it was the least I could do for them.”

Zack finally grasped the complexity and sincerity of the man before him. He was a killer yet compassionate, ruthless yet merciful, a monster yet a benefactor. The gray area where modern-day warfare intersected with politics bred this kind of man. And at least he tried to make amends, even if it was on his own terms. “Okay. But what about tonight? Seems like your transgressions and wicked ways have continued.”

Belyakov was quiet, as if gathering his thoughts. “You have to believe me—this was not my intent. But for reasons outside of my control, the situation changed. The laptop wasn’t supposed to be here. It never was.”

“What?” Zack asked incredulously. “That laptop has been the source of death and destruction all goddamned night. One last time, what’s on it?”

“You have it, don’t you?” Belyakov said, ignoring the question.

Zack hesitated for the slightest of moments, which was all the confirmation Belyakov needed. He turned toward his armed fireteam and shouted in Russian, which Zack still understood, “Check the SUV. The laptop is in there, probably in a backpack or something.”

Zack raised the Glock as two of the gunmen jogged to Zack’s abandoned and running Explorer. Another turned his FN Mk 16 rifle on Zack as the other kept Griffin in check.

“Zack, please. There’s no need for any more violence. Because you don’t know what’s on the laptop and you’ve risked your life to protect it, I’m going to tell you, since it won’t make any difference in the long run. I’m sure the CIA will be scrambling to repair the damage once they realize what’s happened. Now, put the gun down so my men don’t shoot you. I really do not want your blood on my hands.”