D'Arcy had the two men handcuffed. Whitlock gave instructions for them to be taken to a lounge further down the corridor then turned to D'Arcy and explained that Bernard was already in the building.
'I think it would be unwise of you to go ahead with your address until we've rechecked the hall, sir,' Graham said to Mobuto.
'There's only one area a sniper could use in the hall, and that's the catwalk,' D'Arcy said behind Graham. 'And we've got that covered.' He looked at Whitlock. 'It seems that extra man you sent could come in useful after all.'
'What extra man?' Whitlock replied suspiciously.
'The policeman you sent over ten minutes ago. He had a letter of authorization signed by you.'
'I never sent a man over,' Whitlock shot back.
'Bernard,' Graham hissed. 'I'm going up there, C.W. Give me your Browning. And that two-way radio on your belt.'
'Take Captain D'Arcy and some of his men as backup,' Whitlock said, handing the Browning and the radio to Graham.
'No,' Graham replied quickly then put a hand on Whitlock's arm. 'If he is there, I want to take him myself.'
'Alive, preferably,' Whitlock said.
Graham moved to the door. 'It's locked,' he called out.
'It shouldn't be,' D'Arcy said, approaching the door.
'You got a key?'
D'Arcy took a set of keys from his pocket. 'I don't know which one it is.'
Graham tried several of the keys before he found the right one. He unlocked the door then handed the keys back to D'Arcy.
'Are you sure you don't want any backup?' D'Arcy asked.
Graham shook his head then eased the door open and slipped into the room, closing it again behind him. He looked up at the catwalk but couldn't see anything, or anyone, from where he stood. He moved silently to the metal ladder and, tucking the Browning firmly into his belt, began to climb, slowly and carefully, towards the catwalk. He paused three-quarters of the way up the ladder and pulled the Browning from his belt. When he reached the top he raised his head fractionally above the level of the catwalk floor. Bernard was kneeling on his right knee with the rifle resting lightly on the railing for added stability. His body was at a forty-five-degree angle to the ladder and his head bent low over the top of the rifle. Graham was on his blind side. Graham kept the Browning trained on him as he climbed the last few rungs before he reached the catwalk. What if Bernard turned and fired when challenged? Graham knew it was a possibility. Could he afford to take that chance? He could kill Bernard with one shot. That's all it would take. Then his revenge would be complete. His finger tightened on the trigger as he aimed the Browning at Bernard's head. One shot. He thought of Carrie and Mikey. They deserved justice. Then he thought of Ngune's execution in Kondese and how much it had appalled him. Shot in cold blood. It would be the same if he shot Bernard without giving him the chance to surrender. Could he live with that on his conscience? He eased the pressure on the trigger.
'Drop the gun, Bernard,' Graham said softly but firmly, his body tensed in anticipation of Bernard's reaction.
Bernard raised his head and looked round slowly. He wasn't surprised that it was Graham. It was almost as if he had expected it to be him, the face that had haunted him ever since the incident in Libya. He had lost count of the times he had woken in the night, his body soaked with sweat, Graham's face still fresh in his mind. But it wasn't a nightmare any more. Now it was real. He knew Graham wouldn't kill him, not unless in self-defence. That much was obvious. He had already discounted any thoughts of trying to fire on the turn — not against someone of Graham's calibre. He would be dead before he even had a chance to move the rifle. And with Graham there, it meant Mobuto would already have been warned not to enter the hall, certainly not until the situation had been resolved one way or the other. And he still had the escape plan as backup. Bailey couldn't afford not to fulfil his side of the bargain, even if Mobuto were still alive. He unwound the strap from around his arm and laid the rifle carefully at his feet.
'Put your hands on your head and step away from the railing,' Graham ordered.
Bernard did as he was told. Graham undipped the two-way radio with his left hand and told Whitlock to have a couple of policemen waiting for Bernard at the foot of the ladder. He clipped the radio back onto his belt then gestured towards the ladder. His finger tightened on the trigger as Bernard passed him.
'Bernard?' Graham called out as Bernard reached the top of the ladder. He waited until Bernard had looked round before speaking again. 'Was it a clean kill?'
'Yes, I believe it was,' Bernard replied then began to slowly descend the ladder towards the waiting policemen. He was handcuffed when he reached the ground before being led away, flanked by two policemen.
Graham climbed down the ladder again. 'The rifle's still up there,' he said to D'Arcy who immediately dispatched one of his men to fetch it.
Sabrina hurried over to where Graham was standing. 'Mike, are you OK?' she asked softly.
'Yeah, sure,' he replied quickly then looked past her as Kolchinsky entered the room. 'Here comes trouble.'
'With a capital T,' she said, glancing round as Kolchinsky approached them.
'I want to see you both in my office in an hour,' Kolchinsky said sharply.
'We'll be there,' Sabrina assured him.
Kolchinsky's eyes flickered from Sabrina to Graham. 'Why didn't you kill him when you had the chance? It's what you set out to do.'
'It's what I set out to do,' Graham agreed. 'But Sabrina talked me out of it when we were in Zimbala.'
'Well, that's something in your favour,' Kolchinsky said to her then walked back towards the door.
'I never talked you out of it,' she said once Kolchinsky was out of earshot. 'I tried, but you wouldn't listen.'
'Maybe I did,' Graham replied. 'But that's not the point. I called the plays in Beirut and now I've got to deal with the consequences. I'm not going to let you be dragged down with me.'
'We work as a team, Mike. And that means we face the ups and downs of the partnership together.'
'No, not this time, Sabrina,' he replied then crossed to the door and disappeared back out into the corridor.
'Hi,' Sarah said as Sabrina entered the office. 'Welcome back.'
'Thanks,' Sabrina said with a grin. 'Is Sergei in?'
Sarah nodded then flicked the intercom button on her desk. 'Sabrina here, Mr Kolchinsky.'
'Send her in,' came the terse reply.
Kolchinsky activated the door for Sabrina and closed it again behind her.
'Isn't Mike here yet?' she asked, glancing at her watch.
'He's been and gone,' Kolchinsky replied.
'But I thought you wanted to see us together,' Sabrina said, frowning.
'That was what I had in mind.' Kolchinsky indicated the nearest of the two black couches. 'Sit down.'
She sat down slowly, her eyes never leaving Kolchinsky's face. 'Something's wrong, Sergei. What is it?'
Kolchinsky shifted uncomfortably in his chair then reached for his cigarettes on the desk and lit one. 'Michael handed in his resignation this afternoon.'
She clasped her hands over her face and shook her head slowly to herself.
'I said he handed it in. I didn't say I accepted it.'
She sat back and looked across at him. 'Will you accept it?'
'That will all depend on the findings of the internal investigation the Secretary-General's asked me to set up to look into the way the three of you conducted yourselves during the operation.'
'How long will that take?'
'A couple of days.' Kolchinsky tapped a folder on his desk. 'Michael's already given me a detailed account of what happened in both Beirut and Zimbala. I want your report on my desk by tomorrow afternoon at the latest.'