Jack Higgins: A Darker Place

“And where does that leave Alex?” Katya asked.

Roper answered. “Remember what I said? That he could always sit around somewhere, let his hair grow, write a truly great book, and reappear on the international scene when it suited him? The Americans have agreed to give him asylum, so he can start that process whenever he wants to-wherever he wants to.”

“And this friend of his?”

“Bounine? Asylum-from us-too. He can work for me.”

Maggie looked in. “He’s stirring. If you want to take a quick look, do.”

Katya turned to Svetlana, who shook her head. “I can see him anytime now, thanks be to God. You go, my dear.”

Katya opened the door and stepped in. The light was dim and he was propped up, a cage over him from the waist down. He looked very frail lying there, his head bald, the eyes closed. She moved closer, filled with an incredible tenderness.

His eyes flickered open. “Katya, is that you?”

“Yes, Alex.”

“Good.” His eyes closed again.

She went out, full of energy, dazzled by hope. Ferguson and Svetlana were talking, and stopped, and Svetlana said, “How is he?”

“He’s well, I think, and he’ll be better.” She turned to Ferguson. “What you were talking about-Alexander’s future? Is that a definite offer, slate wiped clean?”

“Absolutely, my word on it.”

“And you can do that?”

General Charles Ferguson smiled, and for a moment there was a touch of the wolf there. “My dear lady, I can do anything,” he said.