Алистер Маклин: Time of the Assassins

‘I don’t think he’ll put up much resistance this time,’ Kolchinsky replied then paused to light a cigarette.

‘He’s been overworking and he knows it. The next attack could be fatal.’

They lapsed into silence again.

Whitlock got to his feet and crossed to the dispenser against the wall. ‘Coffee anyone?’

They both shook their heads.

‘Where’s Mike?’ Whitlock asked, pouring himself a coffee.

‘That’s a good question,’ Kolchinsky replied gruffly. ‘The last I heard was that he’s on the run from the authorities in Beirut.’

‘What?’ Sabrina asked in astonishment.

‘Beirut?’ Whitlock said, pausing in front of the desk to look down at Kolchinsky. ‘Is he on assignment?’

‘No, he is not,’ Kolchinsky boomed angrily, stressing each word in turn. ‘He’s gone after Bernard.’

‘Jean-Jacques Bernard?’ Sabrina said, her eyes flickering between Kolchinsky and Whitlock. ‘He’s dead, isn’t he?’

‘Sit down, C.W.,’ Kolchinsky said, waving towards the black leather sofa where Sabrina was sitting. ‘I’ll tell you what I know so far. And believe me, it isn’t much.’

Kolchinsky waited until Whitlock was seated before opening the file on the desk in front of him and outlining the sketchy details Philpott had received from their UNACO contact in Beirut earlier that morning.

‘Mike would never have shot this Barak in the back,’ Sabrina said once Kolchinsky had finished. ‘That’s cold-blooded murder. He’s been set up–’

‘Spare the lecture, Sabrina,’ Kolchinsky cut in sharply. He placed the cigarette on the edge of the ashtray before looking at her again. ‘Look, I hear what you’re saying. And if it’s any consolation, I don’t think he shot Barak either. But we can’t be sure until we find him. And we have to find him, quickly.’

‘What if the person who murdered Barak killed Mike as well?’ Whitlock said and immediately noticed the look of horror on Sabrina’s face. He turned to her. ‘It’s a possibility we have to face.’

‘Why set Michael up to take the rap then kill him? If the killer wanted Michael dead, why not shoot him at Barak’s house?’

Kolchinsky shook his head. ‘No, if Michael was set up then it’s obvious the killer wants him alive.’

‘What about Laidlaw?’ Sabrina asked. ‘Have any of our people contacted him?’

‘We can’t risk it,’ Kolchinsky replied. ‘The police know he met Michael last night. They don’t have any evidence linking him to the murder but you can be sure they’ll be watching his every move. That’s where you come in.’

‘How?’

‘You’re going over there as Michael’s girlfriend. And it’s imperative that you play it all above board. Contact the police once you arrive to let them know you’re looking for him. That way you’ll be able to see Laidlaw without arousing their suspicions. I’m not saying you’ll find out anything, but you have to start somewhere.’

‘Where do I come in?’ Whitlock asked.

‘You’ll find out soon enough,’ Kolchinsky replied then pressed the intercom button on the desk. ‘Sarah, ask Mr Bailey to come through.’

Kolchinsky used a miniature transmitter to activate the door. Moments later Sarah appeared, followed by a man in a pale grey suit. He was in his early fifties with wavy black hair and a craggy face which was scarred around the cheeks and mouth from teenage acne. He smiled quickly at Sarah when she withdrew and closed the door behind her.

Kolchinsky came round from behind the desk and the two men shook hands. He introduced Whitlock and Sabrina to Bailey who then sat down on the second black leather sofa and took a cigar from his pocket. He unwrapped the cellophane then looked across at Kolchinsky. ‘I was shocked to hear about Colonel Philpott. How is he?’

‘He’s expected to make a full recovery,’ Kolchinsky replied.

‘That is good news. Please send him my regards when you next see him. We may not have always seen eye to eye in the past but I have great respect for him nevertheless.’ Bailey lit the cigar and exhaled the smoke towards the ceiling. ‘Have you had a chance to look through the dossier I sent you this morning?’

‘I’ve read it,’ Kolchinsky said, unable to keep the disdain from his voice.

‘And have you briefed your operatives?’ Bailey asked, indicating Whitlock and Sabrina on the adjacent sofa.

‘They’ve only just got here. We’ve been talking about the events in Beirut.’

‘That’s understandable,’ Bailey said with the hint of a smile. ‘It’s quite a mess he’s got you into, isn’t it?’

‘You let us worry about that, Mr Bailey,’ Kolchinsky replied icily. ‘I’ll let you explain the gist of the dossier to C.W. and Sabrina. After all, it is your dirty work.’

Bailey got to his feet and moved to the window. He puffed thoughtfully on the cigar then turned back to face Whitlock and Sabrina. ‘What I’m about to tell you can never be repeated outside these four walls. It’s one of the CIA’s most closely guarded secrets and I intend to keep it that way. Any indiscretion on your part–’

‘There will be no indiscretion on their part,’ Kolchinsky cut in angrily, his eyes blazing.

Bailey shrugged, not altogether convinced by Kolchinsky’s outburst. But he let it pass. ‘It would never have needed to come out if Graham hadn’t rushed off to Beirut to find Bernard.’ He paused to draw on the cigar, still loath to reveal what he had come to say. When he spoke it was in a barely audible voice as if he feared that his words would carry beyond the four walls. ‘Jean-Jacques Bernard works for me.’

‘Bernard’s CIA?’ Whitlock said in astonishment.

Bailey nodded.

‘Was he working for you when Mike’s family were kidnapped?” Sabrina demanded.

‘Yes,’ Bailey answered then held up his hand to silence Sabrina before she could speak again. ‘But the kidnapping had nothing to do with him. It was carried out on the orders of Salim Al-Makesh to give himself time to flee the terrorist base before Delta destroyed it.’

‘And now Al-Makesh is dead. How convenient.’

‘You can drop the sarcasm, Sabrina,’ Kolchinsky said sharply, pointing a finger of warning at her.

She opened her mouth to speak, thought better of it, then slumped back angrily on the sofa and folded her arms across her chest.

‘Why was Mike never told about this?’ Whitlock asked, his eyes riveted on Bailey. ‘He’s been through hell these past two years trying to come to terms with the loss of his family. Had he known the truth it might have made his loss that bit more bearable.’

‘Bernard told us what happened and as he and Al-Makesh were the only two survivors of the attack we couldn’t say anything without endangering his cover.’

‘You bastard,’ Sabrina snarled.

Bailey inhaled sharply and glanced at Kolchinsky, fully expecting him to reprimand her again. Kolchinsky said nothing.

‘What did happen to them?’ Whitlock asked, breaking the tense silence.

‘I don’t know the details,’ Bailey replied with a shrug. ‘But I do know they were killed in retaliation for the attack on the base camp. That’s all Bernard could find out from Al-Makesh.’

Whitlock bit his lip pensively then looked across at Kolchinsky. ‘When I asked you earlier where I fitted into the assignment you said that I’d find out soon enough. There’s more to this than just finding Mike before he gets to Bernard, isn’t there?’

‘Yes,’ Kolchinsky replied bluntly then took another cigarette from the packet on the desk and lit it. He indicated towards Bailey. ‘I’ll let you explain.’

‘Very well,’ Bailey said. ‘Have either of you ever heard of Zimbala?’