Time of the Assassins (26 page)

'He doesn't speak any English,' he added with an apologetic smile.
'Who cares, as long as he can fly us to Habane,' Graham replied.
Tambese translated Graham's words and the pilot gave him a thumbs-up sign. A jeep turned into the courtyard and pulled up in front of the porch. A sergeant climbed out and hurried up the steps. Tambese returned his salute and indicated that he should enter the room. They spoke briefly then the sergeant saluted again before returning to the jeep. The driver did a U-turn and drove off.
'The area's been secured,' Tambese said, turning to Graham and Sabrina. 'The bodies of two of our soldiers were found in the grounds. Massenga must have killed them when he approached the house. His driver's been arrested. He was still waiting for
Massenga in an army jeep about five hundred yards from here.'
'So we can leave?' Graham asked.
Tambese nodded then asked Okoye to take the pilot to the Cessna on the runway. Moredi took up the offer of a walk and left the room with the two men.
'I've got to get back to the city,' Tambese said. 'There's a press conference scheduled for later this morning. I need to consult with my officers before I say anything. I'll put out that story about Ngune's still being alive. You just make sure you get to Jamel before Bernard does. If Jamel were to die now, it could throw the country back into turmoil. Mike, I know how much you want Bernard - '
'The President's safety comes first,' Graham cut in, putting a reassuring hand on Tambese's arm. 'You have my word on that.'
'Thank you.' Tambese shook hands with both of them then left the house.
'So what are you going to do now?' Graham asked Laidlaw.
Laidlaw shrugged. 'I guess I'll go back to Beirut and take stock of the situation. After that, who knows? I might go back to the States again.'
Sabrina held out a hand towards him. 'Good luck, Russell, whatever you decide to do.'
'Thanks,' Laidlaw replied, shaking her hand.
'Mike, I'll see you at the plane,' she said then picked up her holdall and left the room.
'She's a good kid, Mike,' Laidlaw said, staring at the door.
'Kid? She's twenty-eight, Russ.'
'You know what I mean.' Laidlaw's face became serious. 'I'd still be feeling sorry for myself in some Beirut bar if you hadn't brought me out here. You gave me back my dignity, Mike. I can never repay you for that.'
'You can cut the schmaltz for a start,' Graham replied. 'I didn't do anything. You pulled the trigger, not me. And just as well you did.'
Laidlaw shook Graham's hand. 'You take care of yourself, buddy.'
'And you. I got to go, Russ.'
Laidlaw watched Graham leave and smiled sadly to himself. He knew he'd never see Graham again. He represented the past that Graham so desperately wanted to forget. But he had the memories, and that was enough.

TWELVE

Whitlock pressed the combination into the bellpush then opened the door and entered. He was surprised to find Kolchinsky sitting behind Sarah's desk. Kolchinsky indicated that he should close the door behind him.
'What's this all about, Sergei?' Whitlock asked, stifling a yawn. 'It's seven thirty in the morning.'
'Sit down, C.W.,' Kolchinsky said, gesturing to the burgundy-coloured couch against the wall.
'Why here? What's wrong with the office?'
'It's bugged,' Kolchinsky replied.
'Bugged?' Whitlock said in amazement. 'But that's impossible. Dave Forsythe checks these rooms every morning for bugs.'
'Which means he's the only person who could have planted it.'
'Dave? Come on, Sergei, he's one of the most senior technicians in the command centre.'
'I read through his personnel file before you got here.' Kolchinsky held up a sheet of computer paper. 'This is the print-out. You probably know we recruited him from the CIA.'
'Yes, I know he came over from Langley,' Whitlock replied.
'Do you know who he was working for when he resigned?'
Whitlock's eyes narrowed suspiciously. 'I've got a horrible feeling you're going to say Robert Bailey.'
'The same. He'd been Bailey's electronic guru for seven years.'
Whitlock slumped back on the couch. 'So Bailey's known everything that's been said in the office. Did you find any other bugs?'
'No, I personally checked all the rooms this morning. They're clean.'
'I'm surprised he didn't bug the telephones as well.'
'Too dangerous,' Kolchinsky replied. 'He knows the Colonel and I regularly check the phones ourselves. And anyway, if Sabrina called me I always briefed you on what she said.'
'Where is the bug?'
'Under the coffee table.'
'What are you going to do?' Whitlock asked.
'Nothing, yet. I don't want to alert Bailey. Let's get the President safely on his plane first. I'll confront Dave in the morning. But until then act as if nothing's wrong.'
Whitlock nodded. 'This certainly supports the theory that Bailey's behind this whole operation. Why else would he want the office bugged? This way he could pass everything on to Bernard to ensure he's always kept one step ahead of Mike.'
'Yes, Bailey has to be behind it,' Kolchinsky replied. 'But how to prove it is going to be another matter altogether. We're talking about the Deputy Director of the CIA. He's already being tipped as a future
American President. And that means he's got a lot of influential friends across the board. We can't make any accusations without the proof to back them up. And right now we don't have that proof. Even if Dave Forsythe confesses to bugging the office for Bailey, it's not enough to prove involvement in a conspiracy to kill a foreign head of state.'
'Whatever happens, we're going to be left with egg on our faces,' Whitlock said grimly. 'It's been a serious breach of security for an organization that supposedly doesn't exist.'
'What if the bug has been planted for a newspaper?'
'Then you'll be spending Christmas standing in a food queue in some Moscow street and I'll be on the first plane back to Kenya.' Whitlock got to his feet and winced as he tried to adjust the sling supporting his injured arm. 'It's not a newspaper. It has to be Bailey. It's too much of a coincidence for it not to be.'
Kolchinsky sighed deeply then pointed to Whit-lock's arm. 'How is it?'
'A bit stiff,' Whitlock replied with a dismissive shrug.
'I assume you haven't heard anything from Sabrina in the last twenty-four hours?'
The question caught Whitlock by surprise but he was quick to regain his composure. 'No,' he lied, shaking his head. 'Nothing at all. Hasn't she contacted you?'
'The last time I spoke to her was yesterday morning after the attempt on her life. She was thinking then about going down to Kondese to spring Remy Mobuto from jail. I told her to get on the next flight
back here. The last thing we need is for UN AGO to get involved in a civil war. Since then nothing. I'm worried about her, C.W. It's not like her to disobey an order. I've made enquiries through the American embassy but she hasn't been admitted to any hospitals out there. She just seems to have disappeared.'
'She's probably on her way back now,' Whitlock replied, hating himself for his deceit. But he had given her his word to keep silent.
'I hope so,' Kolchinsky said then got to his feet and moved round to the front of the desk.
'She can look after herself, Sergei," Whitlock said, noticing the concern on Kolchinsky's face.
'It's not that,' Kolchinsky replied, shaking his head. 'The lab boys came back with positive ID on a set of prints from that newspaper you lifted from the flat last night.'
'And?' Whitlock asked, his voice suddenly anxious.
'They're Bernard's.'
'Oh, my God,' Whitlock said despairingly. 'When did you find this out?'
'Last night.'
'Why didn't you call me?' Whitlock demanded.
'It wouldn't have done any good. You'd have just lain awake all night worrying about it.'
'I was awake most of the night with this arm anyway. You're right, though, there's nothing I could have done.' Whitlock sat down again then looked up at Kolchinsky. 'Bailey must have tipped Bernard off about Rosie. How else could Bernard have found out who Rosie was and where to find her?'
'I think it would be better if you stayed away from
the Trade Center today, C.W. I don't want any confrontations with Bailey until the President's out of American airspace.'
'Bailey's going to be at the Trade Center this afternoon?'
'Yes, he arrived in New York last night.'
'There won't be any confrontations, that I promise you. I'm not Mike. I can keep my emotions in check.'
'I still don't see why you want to be there. You've already made the security arrangements with the NYPD. Let them handle it. And I'll be there to keep an eye on things.'
'So will I,' Whitlock said. 'Mobuto may be a pain in the arse at times but I'm still in charge of his security. I'd never forgive myself if anything were to happen to him while I was swanning about at home.'
' O K,' Kolchinsky replied.
'Is there anything we can do to try and find Rosie before Mobuto leaves for the Trade Center?'
'I had Strike Force Nine check out all known CIA safe houses in and around the New York area. They didn't come up with anything. But those were only the ones we knew about. There are sure to be others. Bernard might not even be at a safe house. All we can do now is wait for him to make the first move.'
'And you think he'll try something at the Trade Center?'
'It's possible, if Sabrina's theory's right about him being the third man.' Kolchinsky shrugged. 'There are so many unanswered questions at the moment. But we have to take every precaution. I had a photofit made up of Bernard and sent over to the NYPD. It'll be
circulated to all the officers on duty at the Trade Center today. There are already metal detectors positioned at all public entrances and all other doors will be guarded by uniformed officers. It's not foolproof by any means, but it'll make it that bit harder for him if he does intend to try and hit the President this afternoon.'
'You know something, Sergei, I'll be glad to see the back of him tonight.'
'You're not the only one,' Kolchinsky replied with a weak smile. 'Have you eaten this morning?'
'I had a coffee while I was getting dressed.'
'Fancy some breakfast at the Plaza? We'll chalk it up to expenses.'
'I wouldn't say no,' Whitlock said. 'I've got a feeling this is just the start of a very long day.'
'My thoughts exactly. Come on, let's go.'
Bernard was watching the morning news when the doorbell rang. He picked up his Desert Eagle automatic from the table and went to the door. He peered through the spyhole. It was Brett. He unlocked the door.
'Jesus, what happened to your face?' Brett asked, staring at Bernard's half-closed eye.
'The girl tried to escape.'
'And she did that to you?' Brett said, unable to keep the smile from his face. 'A sixteen-year-old kid?'
'She caught me with the door,' Bernard replied sullenly.
'You're going to stand out like a sore thumb at the Trade Center.'
'You let me worry about that.'
'Hey, it's not just your ass on the line.'
'I don't need a lecture from one of Bailey's flunkeys,' Bernard snarled.
Brett glared at Bernard then brushed past him into the hall. 'Where's the girl now?'
'In the bedroom,' Bernard replied, closing the front door. 'She won't give you any trouble, she's handcuffed to the radiator.'
'Which door?'
'First on the right.'
Brett opened the door and entered the room.
'A visitor?' Rosie said facetiously then looked across at Bernard who was standing in the doorway. 'You should have told me your boyfriend was coming over.'
'You can cut the cute remarks,' Brett snapped then left the room and closed the door behind him. 'When are you leaving?'
'Now. And don't bother making her anything to eat; she won't touch it. She hasn't eaten since I brought her here yesterday.'
'What if she wants to go to the toilet?'
'Then let her go. There aren't any windows in the bathroom if that's what you're worried about.' Bernard took the key for the handcuffs from his pocket and gave it to Brett. 'You've been up all night, haven't you?'
'Yeah, I came straight over here from the hotel.'
'Put your head down for a few hours, you'll feel better for it.' Bernard noticed Brett's frown. 'You don't think I stayed up all night, do you? She's not going anywhere.'
'Is there an alarm?'
'It's by the front door. But there's no need to activate it. Like I said, she's not going anywhere.'
'I'd feel better if it were on.'
'Suit yourself,' Bernard replied then picked up the holdall and walked to the front door.
'What time will you be back?' Brett asked as Bernard opened the door.
'When the job's done,' Bernard replied. 'Don't wait up,' he added with a faint smile then left, closing the door behind him.
'I'll be waiting,' Brett said softly then unholstered his Smith & Wesson 645 and aimed it at the door. 'You can count on it, my friend.'
'Why weren't we told about this?' Kolchinsky demanded, dropping a folder onto the table.
'And good morning to you, too,' Mobuto replied with a hint of sarcasm as he looked up at Kolchinsky who had brushed past Masala moments earlier when he answered the door. He leaned forward in his chair and opened the folder. Inside were several sheets of computer paper. He scanned the first paragraph of the top page then sat back and folded his arms across his chest. 'It's a resume of the offensive we launched against Ngune last night. Forgive me if I'm a little slow on the uptake this morning, Mr Kolchinsky, but why should I have told you about this?'
'Because two of our operatives could still be out there,' Kolchinsky shot back.
'They were, up until a few hours ago,' Mobuto
replied. 'They're now on their way back to New York. Surely you knew that?'
'How did you know their movements?' Kolchinsky asked, ignoring Mobuto's question.
'Colonel Tambese told me.'
'Who?'
'David Tambese, the man I've appointed as the new head of the armed forces.'
'Has he had them under surveillance?'
'Surveillance?' Mobuto replied with a look of puzzlement. 'They were working together. Your operatives, Mike and Sabrina, helped David get my brother out of Branco. He told me he couldn't have done it without their help.'
Kolchinsky sat down slowly, his eyes never leaving Mobuto's face. 'Michael and Sabrina were working together?'
Mobuto nodded. 'With David Tambese. I purposely kept the plans of the offensive a secret because I couldn't risk Ngune finding out beforehand. Only David and I knew about them. Mike and Sabrina were as much in the dark as you were.'
'No, I don't believe they were,' Kolchinsky said after a thoughtful pause, barely able to contain his anger. 'How long have you known that Michael and Sabrina were working as a team?'
'Yesterday, when David told me that he'd intercepted Mike and his friend Laidlaw near the airport. Ngune had been tipped off that they would be going to the airport and he'd dispatched a suicide squad to deal with them.'
'Did he say why they were going to the airport?'
'Sabrina had left a message at the airport to tell them where she was staying.'
'Which means she was already working with Michael in Beirut,' Kolchinsky said softly to himself.
'Pardon?'
'Nothing, I was just thinking out loud.'
Mobuto leaned forward, his arms resting on his knees. 'Didn't you know they were working with David?'
'I've never even heard of David Tambese!' Kolchinsky snapped then held up a hand in apology. 'I'm sorry, it's not your fault. I'm grateful you brought this to my attention.'
'I hope I haven't put them in any trouble,' Mobuto said with genuine concern. 'They saved my brother's life, and that's something I'll never forget.'
Kolchinsky sat back in the chair and stared at the folder on the table. There were so many questions that needed to be answered. But the one that stood out above all others was how long Sabrina had been lying to him. When did she and Graham first make contact in Beirut? He knew she must have had her reasons for holding out on him. She and Whitlock had always been the two operatives he had trusted implicitly. But he wouldn't pass judgement on her, not yet. She had the right to answer for her actions in person. He could wait. Tambese? The name suddenly entered his mind. He had never heard of him until Mobuto mentioned the name. So it was fair to assume that Sabrina wouldn't have heard of him either before she arrived in Zimbala, and she would never work that closely with someone unless she had first had him vetted. All
vetting procedures went through the command centre. But that could have been risky. What if word had got back to him? No, she would have had to confide in someone close, someone she knew she could trust. And he knew exactly who that was.
'Would you excuse me?' Kolchinsky said, getting to his feet.
'Of course,' Mobuto replied then closed the folder and offered it to Kolchinsky. 'I'm sorry I didn't give UN AGO prior warning about the offensive last night, but I had to take every precaution in case of a leak. I'm sure you understand.'
'Yes, of course,' Kolchinsky replied, almost absently, then took the folder from Mobuto and moved to the door.
'Where can I reach you if any more news comes through from Zimbala?' Mobuto called out after him.
'I'll be at the Trade Center,' Kolchinsky said. 'I've got a few things to discuss with C.W.'
'I gave her my word.'
'And I thought the only conspiracy around here was against the President,' Kolchinsky retorted angrily. 'Now I find there's been another one, against me. Not only that, it involved the two people I trusted above all others at UN A CO. You've disappointed me, C.W., you really have.'