They stared at him blankly. Blackburn gave a shrug.
‘I had found the WMD in the bank in Tehran along with evidence suggesting two more. We had intel suggesting the chalet was a possible location — I wanted to finish the job I started in the bank.’
‘This isn’t a job interview, kid. Enough with the self-regarding rhetoric. Your CO died trying to rescue you.’
Rescue you. . Like fuck. But what could he say?
None of them said anything for several seconds.
Why are you so suspicious of me? Blackburn wanted to ask. What have I done that is so wrong? And the answer came straight back. You have killed your superior officer. That’s about as bad as it gets.
‘Sir, the last time we spoke I told you about Solomon. That was the name on Bashir’s lips when he died. And as it’s the only clue we have about the remaining two nukes, I have reason to believe that we should take that name very seriously. May I remind you about the maps I found in the bank vault, of Paris, and New York?’
Neither of them were listening. Andrews had been studying his laptop. He gestured at Dershowitz and they both stared at the screen. Suddenly his face brightened.
‘Ah, there you go.’
He angled it in Dershowitz’s direction, whose eyes widened so much they looked as if they were about to pop out of their sockets.
‘Blackburn, you are so fucked.’
61
Northern Iran Airspace
Kroll sat up front beside Dima. In the back, Vladimir raided the police helicopter’s first aid kit and set about attending to Darwish, who was laid out on the floor of the rear compartment.
‘We could really do with some blood. Anyone?’
He crashed against the bulkhead as Dima threw the chopper into a tight left.
‘Sorry everyone. Power lines.’
Kroll gripped the sides of his seat with white knuckles.
‘When did you last fly one of these?’
‘You want to drive?’
‘You know I hate these things.’
‘Do something useful. I want to talk to Omorova.’
‘Well, if you’ve got a hard on, it’ll have to wait.’
Dima dictated the private number she had used last time they spoke. When Kroll got a line he patched her into Dima’s headset.
Her voice had the same sleepy quality as last time.
‘Do you always have to call in the middle of the night? It’s getting to be a habit.’
‘It’s when I seem to miss you most. I’ll work on it.’
‘What’s all that noise?’
‘A helicopter I borrowed.’
‘You’re going up in the world. How’s the mission going?’
‘Terrible. Kaffarov’s dead. The nukes are AWOL. Some goons tried to ambush us.’
‘There’s an alert out for you. You’ll enjoy this — “wanted in connection with the trafficking of nuclear weapons”.’
He heaved on the stick to clear another power line, his brain trying to compute what he was hearing.
‘So why are you talking to me? Doesn’t sound like a good career move.’
She sighed rather attractively.
‘My career’s going nowhere. Everyone on the operation’s been sidelined.’
‘I have to see Paliov.’
‘He’s been put under house arrest. I’d stay out of Moscow airspace if I were you.’
‘Just tell me where he is. And I need as much as you can glean on an ex-Spetsnaz CIA asset lately allied to the PLR, name Solomon aka Suleiman. Please?’
‘I need to get back to sleep.’
‘Would you believe me if I said the future of the world depends on it?’
‘Okay, okay. Call me later.’
She hung up.
Vladimir leaned over Dima’s seat and lifted one of his cans.
‘Darwish has gone. I’m sorry.’
How in God’s name do we tell Amara, thought Dima, but he followed Vladimir’s gaze: she was bent over her father’s body, silently weeping.
62
As well as keeping clear of power lines, Dima had a lot on his mind as he flew north. The thrill of lifting the goons’ own chopper had ebbed away as he digested the news about Darwish. His death rekindled his determination for some kind of payback. Darwish must not have died in vain: that much at least he owed his old friend. What Omorova had told him meant that the sense of freedom the helicopter offered was temporary. In the air he was a target. He needed to get out of the sky, and into something else that would get him back into Moscow unnoticed. Kroll had overheard the conversation on his headset. He knew what they were up against.
‘So now we’re outlaws. Guess we can say bye-bye to any remuneration for this jaunt.’