Алистер Маклин - Time of the Assassins

‘I’ll get over to the airport straight away,’ Kolchinsky said. ‘Will you clear everything with the necessary people?’

‘Yes, don’t worry about that,’ Philpott replied. ‘Sabrina, take Sergei in your car.’

‘I’ll get one of the police cars to take me,’ Kolchinsky said. ‘With the siren on, it won’t take us long to reach the airport.’

‘It’ll be even quicker in Sabrina’s car. It’s fast and she knows how to handle it. I’ll see to it that you’re given a free passage to the airport.’

Sabrina held up the keys and grinned at Kolchinsky. ‘Well, what are we waiting for?’

Kolchinsky shot Philpott a despairing look then hurried after her.

‘I have some calls to make,’ Philpott said then indicated the telephone in front of him. ‘May I use it?’

‘Yes, of course,’ Stephens replied.

‘They are private calls,’ Philpott said to the communications officer who was hovering behind him.

Stephens nodded to the communications officer who climbed down the metal steps and closed the door behind him. He waited until the man was out of earshot then told Whitlock what Hagen had said before he went into the house.

‘It makes sense,’ Whitlock said thoughtfully. ‘But I doubt he cared any more about those two officers than he did about Rosie. He’d obviously been sent here by Bailey to kill Bernard. That’s why he was so insistent that Bernard leaves the house in a body bag. Bernard knows too much about the CIA and their operations.’

‘Hagen was right about the CIA sending an assassination squad after Bernard, especially now that he’s got the disc,’ Stephens said. ‘That would be sure to blow the lid off some of the CIA’s most covert operations if it were ever made public.’

‘Which is exactly why I think he’ll be given a wide berth from now on, at least until the disc’s been recovered,’ Whitlock replied. ‘Bernard’s nobody’s fool. He’ll have stashed the disc away somewhere safe so that if the CIA do hit him, it’ll be made public. And that’s the last thing Bailey would want to happen.’

‘I’d have to go along with C.W. on that,’ Graham said. ‘Bailey can’t afford to have those files made public, even if he has left the CIA by then. The whole point of their release tonight was to cover up a potential scandal. But if this is made public, he won’t be able to hide behind the cover-up any more. There would be a public outcry if those responsible weren’t brought to trail, starting with Bailey.’

‘You’re forgetting one thing. He still has to leave the house to get to the helicopter,’ Stephens said, looking at each of them in turn. ‘If any of my men gets a clear shot, they’ll take him out. Those are their orders. Then let’s see what happens to Mr Bailey and his precious files.’

‘If anything happens to Rosie as a direct result of your team you can be sure I’ll come after you,’ Whitlock said in a soft, menacing voice. ‘You bear that in mind, Lieutenant.’

‘These men are highly trained, Mr Whitlock,’ Stephens shot back defensively. ‘They’ll only fire if they’re one hundred per cent sure of hitting their target.’

‘For your sake, I hope you’re right,’ Whitlock said then walked back towards the van.

It was a side of Whitlock that Graham had never seen before – cold, cynical, threatening. He hadn’t realized until then just how close Whitlock was to Rosie. Had he not known better, he would have sworn that Whitlock was her father, not just her uncle. He smiled sadly to himself. Whitlock would make a great father. Well, perhaps one day. Hell, he was only in his mid-forties. Yeah, a great father…

Philpott removed a pair of headphones and placed them on the table in front of him. ‘Sergei’s on his way. He should get here within the next ten minutes.’

Whitlock looked at his watch. Two forty-six a.m. ‘Is Sabrina with him?’

‘No, she driving back. If she were to suddenly emerge from the helicopter after it landed, Bernard might think it was some sort of trap. I don’t care how much of a professional he is, right now he’ll be on edge. It’s only natural with a dozen highly trained snipers just waiting for him to make a mistake. So there’s no use in adding to the tension.’

Whitlock sat down next to Philpott and looked across at Graham who was sitting on the top step, his back against the open door, sipping hot coffee from a plastic cup.

Graham sensed he was, being watched and glanced round at Whitlock. ‘You should try the coffee sometime. In fact, have this one.’

Whitlock smiled as Graham extended the plastic cup towards him. ‘That good, huh?’

‘Hell, no,’ Graham retorted then tossed the remainder of the coffee into the bushes behind the van. ‘Why is bad coffee always associated with cops? Making a drinkable cup of coffee should be part of their basics.’

Philpott smiled faintly then picked up the receiver and dialled the house. Bernard answered. ‘You told me to let you know when the helicopter was on its way.’

‘Is it a Huey?’ Bernard demanded.

‘Yes. Where do you want it to land?’

‘As close to the house as possible. Then your pilot’s to shut down the engine, switch off all lights, and withdraw. I’m using my own pilot. He’s on his way over here now. He’ll be driving a light blue Datsun. He’s not to be stopped. Is that clear?’

‘Quite clear,’ Philpott replied contemptuously. ‘When will Rosie be released?’

‘When I’m satisfied I haven’t been tricked by either you or the CIA. Strange as it may seem, Colonel, I don’t want to see her hurt any more than you do. She’s a great kid. Don’t make me do something we’ll all regret.’

‘How will I know when you’ve released her?’

‘You’ll be the first to know, Colonel, you can be sure of that.’ Then the line went dead.

Bernard glanced at his watch as he heard the sound of the helicopter in the distance. Two fifty-seven a.m.

Good timing. He switched off the hall light then went into the front bedroom and, pressing himself against the wall, tweaked back the curtain and peered cautiously out across the clearing. Although it was in darkness he knew the SWAT team would be positioned on the edge of the wood, their sniper rifles fined with the latest in high-tech infra-red sights. He couldn’t afford to make the slightest mistake or they’d cut him down without a moment’s hesitation. It seemed to give him added confidence. No cop was going to kill him.

The helicopter suddenly appeared from behind the wood and came to within a few feet of the front gate before descending carefully to the ground. Kolchinsky cut the engine, switched off the lights, then unstrapped himself and got out. He looked towards the house then turned away and strode briskly to where Philpott was waiting for him at the edge of the clearing. Bernard let the curtain fall back into place then left the room. Philpott had kept his side of the bargain, so where the hell was Demerest?

Warren Demerest touched the brakes when he saw the row of police cars in the distance, their lights flashing menacingly in the semi-darkness. He took the balaclava off the dashboard and pulled it over his head then continued for another hundred yards to where a policeman stood in the middle of the road, a flashlight in his hand. He shone the flashlight into the car. The beam lingered on the balaclava. Demerest swallowed nervously. What if Bernard had already been caught or killed? Jesus, he’d never thought of that. Another conviction and they’d throw away the key. Well, that’s what the governor had told him when he’d been released from San Quentin at the beginning of the year. The policeman, who had been instructed by Stephens to let the car through, stepped back and pointed to the approach road. Demerest put the car into gear and headed down it. He passed the van and several members of the SWAT team in their black uniforms. They were all armed. What the hell had Bernard got him into here? Well, it was too late to turn back now. He turned up the narrow driveway at the side of the house, just as Bernard had instructed, and drove round the back, pulling up within a foot of the back door. What the hell was he supposed to do now? Stay in the car? Go into the house? Where was Bernard?