Procter’s eyes went wide. ‘And you believed that?’
‘Yes,’ Clarke snapped. ‘Of course I did. I’ve known Yuliya since the height of the Cold War. I trust her. And Roland, your plan would never have worked. Eventually Kasakov and Ariff would have worked out they’d been tricked. At that point the war would have stopped and we would have achieved nothing. My way would have enabled Eltsina to take over Ariff’s network too. She would have been the single most important trafficker of small arms as well as heavy munitions, answerable to me. Me. I could have made sure the supplies of weapons to America’s enemies ran dry and were never replaced. It would have achieved both our goals.’
‘You should have told me.’
Clarke laughed. ‘Roland, you’re as stubborn as a grease stain. You would never have agreed to doing it my way.’
‘Be that as it may, that didn’t give you the right to lie to me and go behind my back. I’m guessing you told your boys to kill Callo too.’
Clarke shrugged. ‘Keeping him alive was an unnecessary risk. And his death made the ploy more convincing, even you agreed on that.’
‘You’re not the least bit sorry, are you?’ Procter accused.
‘I’m sorry the plan didn’t work,’ Clarke said. ‘I’m not sorry I tried to do some good. Our friendship means a lot to me, but not as much as saving American lives.’
Procter turned and walked away. ‘Our friendship is over, Peter.’
‘Roland,’ Clarke called. ‘Don’t be so melodramatic.’
Procter didn’t look back.
Thirty minutes later, Clarke was back on the river and tossing his line out once more. He’d tried to get hold of Eltsina but the Russian hadn’t answered. She was either avoiding Clarke, on the run, or dead. Any of the three was just as likely as the others, but Clarke guessed the explanation was the latter. Eltsina had warned Clarke what could happen if Kasakov suffered another attack.
Would Kasakov have extracted any information from her first? If Eltsina had been killed for failing in her role as Kasakov’s intelligence officer, then chances were she would have simply been executed. However, if Eltsina’s plans had somehow been revealed then surely Kasakov would have made her suffer first. At which point she would scream out anything to make the pain stop.
Assuming Kasakov knew Clarke’s name, would he make a move against a member of the US government? Unlikely, because of the fear of possible retaliation, but Clarke kept his. 45 calibre Taurus nearby at all times, just in case.
He sighed, thinking about Procter. Clarke had never been happy using his friend the way he had, but it was unavoidable. Not that it mattered now.
The unmistakable noise of an outboard motor decimated the tranquillity. It grew louder and the boat itself appeared, rounding a bend in the river. The vessel was travelling faster than it really should and Clarke felt his own boat begin to rock with the newly created waves. He watched as the boat veered his way. There were two guys onboard. One waved at Clarke.
Clarke adjusted his sunglasses and glanced at the Taurus near his feet. Always better to have a gun and not need one than to need one and not have it, he thought. He tucked the weapon into the back of his shorts. He stood up as the boat grew nearer.
‘Help you, boys?’ he asked.
The two guys were in their twenties, carrying the unmistakable air of purebred hicks. The guy who waved had his left arm in a makeshift sling. He grimaced.
‘My buddy hurt his arm,’ the guy at the motor said. ‘Think his wrist might be broken.’
‘Ouch,’ Clarke said. ‘How’d you do that?’
The guy with the sling shrugged and looked sheepish. ‘Fell over trying to reel in a big ’un.’
‘Hope you got it.’
The guy shook his head.
‘Too bad,’ Clarke said, feeling better about the twelve-incher.
‘Sorry to disturb your fishin’, mister,’ the guy at the motor said. ‘But you got a first-aid kit? Maybe some aspirin?’
‘Sure,’ Clarke said. ‘But ibuprofen is probably better for your needs.’
He turned to fetch his first-aid box. When he turned around, both guys were standing. They didn’t look like hicks any more. The guy with the sling no longer had a sling. Instead, he had a silenced automatic pistol in his right hand. The other guy had one too. Both pointed Clarke’s way.
‘What is this?’ he asked, though he knew the answer.
Clarke thought about the Taurus in the back of his shorts. No way he could get to it, let alone get it out. He tried to stay calm but panic overtook him. He shook his head from side to side.
The guy without the sling looked to the other guy, who nodded and said, ‘Compliments of Vladimir Kasakov.’
Clarke felt the agony of the first bullet hitting him just below the ribcage.
After that, he felt nothing.
CHAPTER 59
Sofia, Bulgaria
Victor had been in the city for twenty-four hours after returning from the US, via Canada. He’d done the same on the way in to American too, to avoid the fingerprinting and photographing of flying directly. He sat at his hotel-room desk and used his new laptop to make the scheduled call with Procter.
The line connected and Procter said, ‘My partner is dead.’
‘I didn’t think you had it in you.’
‘I didn’t,’ Procter admitted, voice strained, ‘but someone else did.’
‘I can’t say I’m sorry about that,’ Victor said.
‘He was a good man.’
‘I’ll take your word for it.’
‘Do,’ Procter insisted.
‘I hope you’re not going to ask me to avenge him.’
‘No,’ Procter said. ‘I wouldn’t, even if I wanted to. He made his bed. Now he’s lying in it.’
’Where does that leave us?’
‘Well, I’m still a little sore about the bomb you left under my car.’
‘I told you which wire to cut, didn’t I?’
‘Yeah, you did. So I guess we’re even. I take it you got my message about Mossad looking for you in Barcelona?’
‘I did. And I haven’t been there in years.’
‘There we go then. They’re chasing shadows. Keep your head down and it will stay that way. Resources are already being diverted at the agency. Soon, neither of us will have to worry. And I don’t know about you, but I’m going to take a vacation. I fancy somewhere hot and remote.’
‘Sounds nice.’
‘You should do the same. You can afford it. I’ve paid you the second half of the Kasakov fee.’
‘I’m surprised.’
‘You only failed because of the intervention of my associate. That’s not your fault. I’ve done the same with the Yamout job. You could not have foreseen Mossad’s involvement.’
‘I appreciate the gesture.’
‘That’s a clever way of thanking me without actually having to say thank you.’
‘I thought so too.’
There was a pause, and Victor felt Procter’s smile. ‘So, my man. We’re done. You went after Kasakov, as agreed, and I’m a man of my word. You’re no longer obligated to me. You’re a free man. Enjoy your retirement. It’s yours if you want it.’
Victor ignored the comment, for now. He said, ‘Tell me something: why go after Kasakov and Ariff the way you did?’
‘What do you mean?’
‘Why do it under the radar, using someone like me instead of a CIA team? Kasakov and Ariff can’t be popular in Washington.’
‘They’re not,’ Procter agreed. ‘But Kasakov has been the Kremlin’s golden boy for a long time now. He’s made them billions in sales. If there was any hint of the CIA’s hand in his death there would be one hell of a shitstorm from Moscow. Would such a shitstorm bother me? No, sir. But Capitol Hill doesn’t share my sentiments. With Ariff the prime suspect, however, it’s a different story.’
‘That’s one half of it.’
‘I don’t follow.’
‘Surely it would have been better to send a snatch-and-grab team after Ariff once you knew where he was hiding out. He could still have taken the blame for Kasakov’s death, but you could hand him over to the ICC on war crimes charges and score a major PR coup.’ Victor paused. ‘Unless Ariff being grilled by prosecutors was something you very much did not want to happen. What did he have on you?’