66 Metres by J.F. Kirwan Page B

an English girl, Gloria she’d said her name was, though he never knew for sure. There’d been something there between the two of them for a while. It wasn’t much, but it would have to do. ‘Gloria,’ he said, closing his eyes, trying to remember her face from that one morning after he’d stayed the night and seen beneath the make-up.
    But the thought of her, of something good in his recent shitty existence, made him try one last time. Danton had never begged for anything, and wouldn’t start now. But…
    â€˜Who you going to send, Lazarus, to make sure the girl delivers? A team of young-and-dumb Russian motherfuckers who’ll stick out like sore thumbs and don’t know shit? I’ll blend in, find the girl, get the device, bring it back. And I know Adamson, that CIA prick; he acts like a suit, but there’s more going on, I’m sure of it. I could take him out.’ His mind worked fast, trying to outrace his heartbeats and Lazarus’ trigger-finger. He didn’t turn around. Instead he spoke to the wall in front of him, felt the Glock’s presence behind his head, listening, judging, weighing the options.
    â€˜It comes down to trust, Lazarus, old friend, and our code. This goes bad, I’m betting you’ll not be far behind me. Who do you trust to do the job, Lazarus, to do whatever it takes, kill anyone who knows too much, get it done without too much mess and no trail back to you or your boss? You and I, we operate according to a code, not like these newbies. You know I won’t do a runner, and I’ll go down without squealing if it comes to that.’ He cut himself off; to say any more could tip the balance the wrong way. Odd, he felt young again. His heart didn’t slow, but his breathing smoothed out. He was ready either way.
    The cushion appeared on the top of the sofa next to him. Lazarus patted it once, then came around back to his seat, gave Danton a long, appraising stare, then tossed the Glock onto the chair. Pulling out a mobile, never taking his eyes off Danton. He made the call, in Russian, then hung up.
    â€˜Leave first thing in the morning. Take this phone; only I will call you on it. Eliminate Adamson, the girl too. If you’ve not got the Rose within seventy-two hours –’
    â€˜You’ll send in your team, and we both know what their first job will be. You won’t have to. I’ll get it done.’
    Lazarus nodded. ‘I’ll see myself out.’
    As Lazarus’ massive frame silhouetted the doorway, Danton couldn’t resist asking one last question. ‘Sasha … Do you think she’s waiting for you, you know, on the other side?’
    Lazarus paused, turned his head halfway, and nodded. ‘She was a good Russian girl.’ With that, he left, closing the door behind him with a soft click.
    Danton stayed still for a while. That had been close. But the job was no sweat. He’d find this little bitch, Nadia, put a bullet through her skull and take the Rose. Maybe have a little fun with her first, Lazarus wouldn’t care, nor would Kadinsky. But the adrenaline was still pumping through him, and he knew there was only one way he’d get some sleep. He stood up, grabbed his coat, pocketed the Glock, and headed out to the street where Gloria used to work.
    ***
    Jake did the trip one more time in the police boat, from Lambeth Bridge to Tower Bridge. It must have been quite an underwater swim. Of course she would have had the tide tugging her along. Still, no mean feat of navigation, never mind with those currents down there. He looked over the side again. The water was turgid, swirling. Visibility was shite.
    He climbed up the ladder onto the Mirage , ducked and weaved through a spider web of yellow and black police tape, and flashed his temporary badge borrowed from MI6 as necessary. Once they saw that badge the police didn’t want to know his name or what he was interested in.