Matthew Dunn - Slingshot

Four three-man teams, all secreted in the mountains around the lodge.

“Glad they’re the ones who have to freeze their balls off today. And I’ll be gladder still when Schreiber gives us the order to gun her down.”

“Don’t worry. Any day now.” Keeping Alfie’s head in the crosshairs of his rifle, the sniper mimicked the sound of firing a silenced bullet.

" Got it!” Suzy beamed as she stared at her laptop screen. “Mikhail Salkov.”

“You’re certain?” Will placed a hand on the Auguststrasse dining table and leaned over her shoulder, looking at the computer.

The CIA analyst nodded. “It’s taken me days to be certain. I’m damn sure he’s the one.”

“How did you get him?”

“Postings. I focused on the double agent files where we’d recruited agents being run by Russian officers posted overseas.”

Wherein those Russian intelligence officers would be posted as diplomats and their real names declared to the host country.

“Had to trawl through over a thousand files to narrow it down to these four.” She moved the cursor until the screen contained four scanned CIA contact reports. Pointing at the screen, she said, “These two Russian CIA agents were run out of the Russian embassy in Paris four years ago. Look.” She tapped a finger. “Agent Folex informs his CIA handler that his SVR handler Trofim Vygotsky is leaving France in one week and is being replaced by Mikhail Salkov; that Salkov will be his new handler. And here,” she moved her finger, “Agent Estler tells a different CIA handler the same thing. The second report is one day older than the first.”

“That doesn’t mean anything.”

“Hold on.” Suzy closed the reports, leaving two on her screen. “One year ago, two Russian CIA double agents are being run out of the Russian embassy in Oslo. Agent Adras and agent Shorm tell their CIA handlers that their SVR handler, a diplomat called Georgii Bordyuzha, is returning to a job in head office. He’s being replaced by Salkov and a handover meeting’s being arranged.”

“Still doesn’t mean that the SVR officer who’s chasing the same paper as us is Mikhail Salkov.” Will frowned as a thought came to him. “How long was Salkov posted to Paris and Oslo?”

Suzy smiled. “I knew you weren’t just a pretty face. There are two reasons why Salkov’s name jumps out at me, and your question relates to one of them.”

“He was only posted to Paris and Oslo for brief periods?”

“Exactly. Paris: two months; Oslo: six weeks.”

“Parachuted in to troubleshoot.”

“That’s what I’m thinking.”

“And the second reason?”

Suzy closed her laptop and turned to Will. “Salkov meets Folex and Estler. One week later their bodies wash up on the shores of the river Seine, their necks broken. Salkov meets Adras and Shorm. Next day, Adras is hit by a speeding car; Shorm is robbed and stabbed to death in the backstreets of Oslo.”

“SVR thinks they’ve got leaky agents in France and Norway, so it sends in a man to plug the holes.” Will moved away from Suzy and stood next to Peter, who was staring at the whiteboard containing questions and possible answers.

Peter nodded. “You were right, Will.” On the board, he wrote Mikhail Salkov: Spycatcher .

Suzy stretched her back. “I haven’t analyzed MI6 double agent files because they won’t release an encrypted stick for me to read their files out here. But I’m sure Mikhail’s name will turn up alongside the deaths of some of their agents as well.”

“So do I.” Peter smiled, walked quickly to Suzy and to her surprise gave the American analyst a hug. “Excellent work, Suzy Sue!”

Suzy smiled, looked happy. “It is, isn’t it?”

“Huggin’s good.” Laith yawned as he entered the room holding the book Will had bought Suzy. “Chapter Four says that embraces cause the release of endorphins that produce a feeling of contentment between mother and baby; it explains that you can get that release at work just as easily as at home or in a gym.” He put an electronic cigarette in his mouth.

Adam Tark emerged from the kitchen and handed Suzy a mug. “German chamomile. I bought it this evening after my shift at the hotel. It’s a calmative and digestive aid, perfectly safe once you’re in the second trimester.”

Suzy took the drink from the former SAS soldier. “Do you guys spend all your time in the Grand Hyatt thinking about what I should and shouldn’t be doing while pregnant?”

Adam grinned, though his disfigured face made the expression look more like a grimace. “Most of the time, yeah.” The Scotsman zipped up his fleece jacket. “Anyway, we’ve got vested interests. Me and Roger have bet two hundred dollars each that it’s going to be a girl; Mark, Peter, and Laith have bet that it’s going to be a boy.” He glanced at Will. “Boss, you want in on the bet?”

“Sure, put me down for a girl.” Will pulled on his jacket. “Providing that’s okay with you, Suzy?”

“Why not?” The CIA analyst slapped both hands onto the dining room table and pushed herself up off the chair. “I’ll decide who I want to win the bet, then pop a kid out who’s got the right gender. Maybe the winners can cut me in for fifty percent of the takings.”

Will smiled. “Any progress on Interpol’s request for information on Kurt Schreiber?”

“Alistair and Patrick are still looking into it.”

“Keep me posted.” Will’s cell phone rang. Roger was calling. He listened to the CIA officer speak for three seconds before snapping the phone shut and calling out, “Russians are on the move! Roger and Mark are in a vehicle, pursuing them. Adam, Laith: get the guns. We need to go now!”

Four minutes later, Will, Laith, and Adam were in an SUV. Adam was driving very fast, navigating his way through the city’s midevening traffic. Laith was next to him, holding his military communications mic close to his throat. “We’re mobile. Where we headed?”

In his earpiece, Will heard Mark’s voice. “They’re moving west. Two SUVs. Get your arses onto Unter Den Linden.”

Will slammed a magazine into his SIG Sauer P226 handgun. “What’s their speed?”

“Normal.”

“Do you think they know you’re on them?”

“No. Traffic’s heavy. But if they’re moving out of the city, we’ve got to hope they stay on a major highway.”

Will unzipped a large canvas bag and withdrew three M4A1 assault rifles with grenade launcher attachments. He placed a rifle and an ammunition pouch containing spare magazines and grenades next to each of his colleagues, and kept the third for himself. “These mustn’t be used unless absolutely necessary. And no dead Russians.”

“No dead Russians?” Laith shook his head, patted his rifle, and smiled. “What has the world come to?”

Adam drove the vehicle onto a larger road. “We’re on Unter Den Linden, heading toward Tiergarten district.”

Roger responded, “You’ve got some catching up to do. Targets are moving through Westend, about five miles ahead of you.”

Adam put his foot to the floor, expertly moving the SUV around slower vehicles. Will and Laith scrutinized the road ahead and occasionally looked behind, searching for signs of police cars. The last thing they needed was for a cop to attempt to pull them over for speeding.

“Target’s moving through Pichelsdorf; has slowed to forty MPH.”

Adam said, “Could be intending to turn off north, heading to Spandau. Or south on the Potsdamer Chaussee.”

Silence for ten seconds.

Mark said, “They’re taking the Potsdamer route. Still don’t seem to be in any rush.”

Will frowned. “Roger, what was their demeanor like when they checked out of the hotel?”