Алистер Маклин - Time of the Assassins

‘Which means his buddies will be back for him,’ Graham concluded.

‘We’ve got to hide the body,’ Sabrina said, looking around for a suitable place.

Graham snapped his fingers. ‘The sewer.’

‘I’ll get the cover,’ Tambese said, already running towards the manhole.

Graham wiped the sweat from his forehead then anxiously looked the length of the street, knowing the jeep could return at any time or another patrol could appear. He hooked his hands under the man’s arms and Sabrina grabbed his legs and they carried him over to where Tambese was struggling to prise open the cover.

‘Hurry up!’ Graham hissed.

‘I’m doing my best,’ came the sharp riposte.

Graham laid the body on the ground and crouched down beside Tambese. Between them, they managed to lift the cover and lay it silently on the road. Sabrina dragged the body to the edge of the opening and Graham helped her tip it into the sewer. It struck the water with a loud splash. Then silence. Tambese peered into the darkness. There was a set of rungs embedded in the wall leading down to the sewer. He eased himself through the opening and descended to a ledge. The stench was awful. Graham went next.

Sabrina was about to follow when she remembered the holdall. She hurried over to the mouth of the alley but as she picked it up she heard the sound of an engine approaching at speed. She knew she would never reach the manhole in time and, looking across at Graham, gestured for him to pull the cover back over the opening. He hauled it into place seconds before the truck turned into the street.

Sabrina melted into the darkness of the alley, the holdall in one hand, the Uzi in the other. She ducked behind a row of metal drums and clamped her hand over her face to block out the putrefying smell of the rubbish that surrounded her. The truck pulled up in front of the alley and the driver shouted the dead man’s name. The second man, in the passenger seat, pointed to the broken bottle then threw up his arms in despair and climbed out of the truck. The driver tossed him a torch and Sabrina crouched down as the beam cut through the darkness. It hit the drum in front of her, casting a shadowy light on the ground in front of her.

Then she saw it: a large, bloated black rat gnawing at a piece of stale bread that lay inches away from her foot. She inhaled sharply, not daring to move as the beam continued to play across the drums. It reminded her vividly of the incident when, as a child, she had been inadvertently locked in a cellar and for the next two hours all she had heard in the darkness was the incessant scurrying of the rats around her. It had left her with a deep-rooted fear of all rodents which had almost killed her while on assignment in Yugoslavia. She had broken cover after discovering that a box she and Graham were crouched behind was infested with rats. Graham had saved her life by tackling her a split-second before a bullet would have hit her.

The man finally switched off the torch and walked back to the truck. He spoke briefly to the driver and climbed back into the passenger seat. The driver cursed angrily then started the engine and drove off.

Sabrina waited until the engine had faded into the distance before getting to her feet. The sudden movement startled the rat and it disappeared through a hole in the wall behind her. She was sweating.

Rats still frightened her, but at least now she was able to control her emotions. And that discipline had certainly saved her life. She picked up the holdall and moved cautiously to the entrance of the alley. The street was deserted. She hurried over to the manhole and knocked on the cover. It was pushed back and Graham’s head appeared above the level of the road.

‘You OK?’ he asked anxiously.

She nodded and handed the holdall to him. He passed it on to Tambese then pressed himself against the wall to let Sabrina climb down to the ledge. She took the torch from the holdall and switched it on. The first object the beam picked out was a dead rat floating in the water.

‘There’s a lot of them down here,’ Tambese said behind her.

‘I can live with that,’ she replied nonchalantly.

Graham smiled to himself then pulled the cover back into place.

Carmen looked up in surprise when Whitlock entered the lounge. ‘What are you doing up, C.W.? Those sleeping tablets were supposed to have knocked you out until morning.’

‘I never took them,’ Whitlock replied, easing himself into his favourite armchair.

‘I don’t believe it,’ she retorted then closed the book she was reading and placed it on the table beside her. ‘You need rest. Why else do you think I asked the doctor to prescribe you such a strong sedative?’

‘I’m on standby, Carmen. What if there were an emergency? What use would I be laid out cold until morning?’

She shook her head in desperation. ‘Your arm’s in a sling, for God’s sake. What use would you be anyway? I know this might come as something of a shock to you, but UNACO can function without you. Now, please, take those tablets and go to bed.’

‘Stop fussing, Carmen, I’m OK,’ he retorted then inhaled sharply through clenched teeth when he bumped his arm against the chair.

‘So I see.’ She got to her feet. ‘OK, if you won’t listen to me as your wife, then will you at least listen to me as a doctor?’

‘I’m not one of your kid patients,’ he said irritably.

‘No, you’re not! At least they have the sense to listen to me when I tell them to take their medicine.’ She snatched the book off the table and disappeared into the kitchen.

He crossed to the drinks cabinet and poured himself a small whisky before returning to the armchair. He had certainly been tempted to take the sleeping pills, if only to escape from the guilt he felt inside, a guilt that stemmed from deceit. It had started when Sabrina rang him from Zimbala to get Mobuto to vouch for Joseph Moredi. Then she had called him again to get a clearance on Colonel David Tambese. He had secretly obtained the necessary information from a computer file in the command centre. In return for his help, she had confided to him that she and Graham were working together to find Remy Mobuto. But Kolchinsky had forbidden her to go near Kondese. It had to be their secret.

Whitlock had been caught in two minds. She was acting in direct violation of an order. And that could lead to her being suspended. Moreover, he would be part of it if he kept the information to himself. But they were his partners, and he had given his word not to tell Kolchinsky. At first he felt he had done the right thing. But the guilt had taken effect like a slow-acting poison and now it weighed heavily on his mind. He knew all he had to do was call Kolchinsky to clear his conscience. But he had given his word.

No, he would stand by them, even if it went against him. He was still a field operative. He would only be transferred to the management side at the end of the year. His loyalty was still to Graham and Sabrina. It didn’t ease his conscience, but at least he felt his actions were justified. But if they screwed up…

The telephone rang, interrupting his train of thought.

‘C.W.?’

‘Sergei?’ Whitlock replied, immediately recognizing Kolchinsky’s voice.

‘How’s the arm?’

Whitlock glanced towards the kitchen door. ‘It’s OK, thanks. What’s up? I’m sure you didn’t call just to ask me about my arm.’

‘No,’ Kolchinsky agreed. ‘It’s about your niece, Rosie.’

‘How do you know about Rosie?’ Whitlock shot back in surprise.

‘I’m not going to explain it over the phone. I’ve sent a car over for you. It should be there in about twenty minutes.’

‘Sergei, is she alright?’ Whitlock demanded.