Matthew Dunn - Slingshot

“You have to let me see him. .”

“I don’t have to do anything you ask of me! There are extremely strict rules about who can access people under our protection. We never deviate from those rules because we know how to keep people alive.”

Will felt exasperated. “Anything the witness can tell us about the assassin must be of value to us.”

Derksen shook his head. “No. It would be a hindrance. The witness’s potential knowledge about Kronos’s past assassinations will naturally skew our thinking toward believing he’ll do something similar to those previous hits. It’s safer if we have a blank canvas and believe that he’s capable of anything.”

Will was about to respond but stopped. What Derksen was saying made sense. “Who is the witness?”

“Nice try, but I know you’re not permitted to know that information until we move him from here.” The Dutchman’s expression softened. “No doubt, I’d be a complete amateur trying to do the things you do in the field. At the same time, I suspect you’ve never spent every waking second of months on end trying to establish how someone”-he waved his hand around-“could break into one of the world’s highest-security facilities.”

Will nodded. He’d never spent months on end in one place, let alone somewhere like this. He lowered his head, deep in thought. More to himself, he asked, “What the hell is Kronos going to try to do?”

“When protecting a high-value target, the greatest point of vulnerability is if he’s being transferred from one place to another.”

Will looked up. “You think he’ll attack him during the trip north?”

Derksen shrugged. “Maybe, if he’s got access to a jet fighter or a sophisticated long-range heat-seeking military surface-to-air missile system.” He smiled. “But on the basis that he hasn’t got those things, I believe that we’re safe. Most of the flight will be at twenty thousand feet. It will take off and land in our secure facilities. We can’t be reached.”

Will glanced at Mikhail, then the Dutch commander. “The only remaining possibility is that the assassination attempt will be made at the hearing itself.”

Derksen nodded slowly. “Yes.”

“Are you worried about that?”

“No. It is impossible to kill a man there. Every inch of land, air space, and subterranean space around the courts is protected.”

Frustration coursed through Will. Though he would analyze all the security around the witness, he could tell that Kapitein Derksen was a no-nonsense professional who knew exactly what he was talking about. Part of him wished that weren’t the case. Kronos would attack a crack in Derksen’s security and that’s where they’d get him. But Will was convinced that there were no cracks. His phone bleeped; he had a message from Mark.

No chance for chit-chat with Rubner. Israelis got to him first, right under our noses. We’ve released mother and daughter. Rubner’s dead.

Will kicked one of the metal chairs and spat, “What the fuck is happening?”

Kronos was motionless as he stared at the complex through night-vision binoculars. He’d been observing the place for two hours, watching vehicles move back and forth, men and women at work, establishing patterns of behavior. Dressed in blue overalls and boots, he looked like many of the people he could see, though he hadn’t really needed to adopt the disguise. He’d easily infiltrate the low-security base and reach his goal without being seen.

But he couldn’t take any chances.

He’d wait in his hidden location for at least another two hours, while observing everything beyond the high-wire fence that separated him and the complex. Then he’d complete his final task.

Five hours later, Kronos stripped out of his clothes and tossed them onto the bed. The big German stretched his muscular and scarred frame, and sighed as he heard the headboard in the adjacent hotel room begin to bang against his wall, just as it had done an hour earlier. He supposed he couldn’t complain-the seedy Amsterdam hotel was a favorite venue for prostitutes and their customers. That’s why he’d chosen it; the hotel employees turned a blind eye to everything.

He started running a bath and opened the case containing the stripped-down sniper rifle. After his bath, he’d spend two hours checking the weapon and making preparations. Then he’d leave the hotel and hit the road. There was still a lot of work to do before sunrise.

He felt calm and in control of matters, and knew that this was because he’d spent nearly two decades planning the potential assassination of one of the men who’d attended the disused barracks in Berlin. Every possibility had been considered-an assault in the States, Russia, Europe, elsewhere; urban, rural, mobile, or static. He’d cultivated assets who could get him things at short notice and thereby allow him to enter and exit countries with nothing compromising on his person. He walked to the window and stared at the city. The Hague was less than two hours away.

Kronos smiled.

He’d considered and planned for every possibility, including killing a man in a maximum-security courtroom.

Will called Roger. “They’re flying the package north tomorrow at fifteen hundred hours. I’ve conducted an independent security assessment. There’s no way into the base, no way the hostile can get to him.”

Roger was silent for five seconds. “There’s always a way.”

“I know, but we cannot identify what it could be. Trust me-I’ve never seen a more secure facility that’s run by experts as good as these people. There’s no bullshit with these guys; they’re as desperate as I am to find out how their security could be breached.”

“What do you want us to do?”

“I need you and the rest of the men here. Tell Suzy to head back to Langley to speak to Patrick about Rhodes and the F-word boys in the Agency. Patrick and Suzy mustn’t do anything yet, though. I want to deal with those bastards in person.”

“Damn right. But just make sure I’m there with you when it happens. Are the Dutch happy for us to join you?”

Will glanced along the barracks. Mikhail and Derksen were the only other people in the long barracks; they were talking to each other and out of earshot of Will’s call. “Not really. But they’ve agreed we can accompany them on the flight providing we stick to their protocols in the event of an attack-they protect the target, we engage the hostile.”

“They’ll provide hardware?”

“I’ve got that sorted. They’ve got an armory here that I think would make even your old unit blush with envy.”

“Okay. We can land this evening. How do we get to you?”

Will smiled. “Just wait at the airport. They’ll take care of everything else. But a word of warning-don’t fall for the pretty woman’s charms.”

Sarah stopped on the Isle of Wight coastal footpath and looked down the cliff toward the sea. She was wearing corduroy trousers, mountain boots, and a thick Aran sweater underneath an oilskin coat.

As she turned to Betty, a sea breeze blew her hair away from her face. “James and I have decided to move out of London. Our law firm has been very good about things. They think my illness and absence from work has been related to the stress of London life. For the last twelve months, they’ve been considering opening a branch in Edinburgh, and they’ve just asked us to be partners of the office.”

Betty thrust her hands into her tweed jacket and nodded approvingly. “It’ll do you both a world of good. Will you live in the city?”