want those things. Maybe more than most.”
“You can leave.”
Sentinel stared at him, shaking his head. “I volunteered to come back here after my imprisonment. I have to see this through.”
Will felt a moment of anger. “The service knows that’s how you think. It’s exploiting your sense of duty.”
“Of course.” He smiled, then his expression turned serious. “There’s a 1605 hours Malév flight to Budapest today, and we’re going to be on it.”
T he Gresham Palace royal suite was one of the most luxurious in Budapest and overlooked the Danube, the Chain Bridge, the Royal Castle, and the Buda Hills. The suite’s Art Deco lounge area contained two large sofas facing each other. Will and Sentinel were sitting on one, Borzaya was on the other. Between them was a glass coffee table, with mugs and a flask on it.
Will’s presence in the hotel room clearly unsettled the FSB officer.
The chubby operative was sitting with his legs crossed. Immaculately groomed, he wore a charcoal gray suit, double-cuff shirt, and a silk tie bound in a Windsor knot. His hair was slicked back, and, judging by the scent emanating from him, he’d obviously applied a generous quantity of expensive eau de toilette to his smooth face.
He seemed reluctant to speak as he stared at Will. Then, “You know my language?”
Will answered in Russian, “Yes.”
Borzaya glanced sharply at Sentinel. “One hundred percent sure that he’s trustworthy?”
Sentinel leaned forward. “He wouldn’t be here if I thought otherwise.”
Borzaya’s expression remained hostile. Looking back at Will, he asked, “Name?”
“Richard Bancroft.”
“Real name?”
“No.”
“The name you used to travel into Hungary?”
“No.”
Borzaya nodded. “Good.” He withdrew a slim silver cigarette case, flicked it open with one hand, withdrew a cigarette, and lit it with a gold lighter. “But you’ve still not explained why you’re here.”
Sentinel interjected. “Richard’s from headquarters. Whatever you’ve found out, he can take back to London.”
“London?” Borzaya clicked his tongue. “That would be a very bad mistake.”
Will was about to speak, but Sentinel motioned for him to stay quiet.
Borzaya puffed on his cigarette for a while, his eyes flicking between the two MI6 officers. “I’m not cleared to know the whereabouts of Taras Khmelnytsky. I tried, but all I could find out was that he was on a top secret training exercise.”
Sentinel slapped his hands on his legs. “Damn it!”
“The restriction on knowledge about his whereabouts is only temporary while the training exercise lasts. Once it’s over, I’ll be able to track him for you.” Borzaya paused. “Unless . . . that’s too late.”
Sentinel shook his head. “Much too late.”
The FSB officer carefully extinguished his cigarette and seemed deep in thought. Fixing his gaze directly on Sentinel, he said, “Not all is lost.”
“You found something in the archives?”
Borzaya nodded. “Something very bad.” He looked at Will. “If you intend to take what I say back to London, you need to leave this room right now.”
Will shook his head. “I’m not going anywhere until Khmelnytsky’s stopped.”
“Stopped from doing what?” Borzaya glanced at Sentinel. “I know you want to find him, but you’ve not told me why.”
Sentinel responded, “For your own safety.”
Borzaya laughed, clearly not buying Sentinel’s explanation as to why he was seeking Razin.
“What did you find in the archives?”
Borzaya darted a look at Will. “Leave or stay?”
Will held his gaze. “I’ll stay.”
“I hope it’s the right decision.” Borzaya lit another cigarette and gazed toward one of the hotel room windows. “There are tens of thousands of KGB files in the FSB and SVR archives. It would take years to read them all.”
Sentinel snapped, “But you didn’t need to read them all. I gave you a very specific task.”
“You did.” Borzaya
“You can leave.”
Sentinel stared at him, shaking his head. “I volunteered to come back here after my imprisonment. I have to see this through.”
Will felt a moment of anger. “The service knows that’s how you think. It’s exploiting your sense of duty.”
“Of course.” He smiled, then his expression turned serious. “There’s a 1605 hours Malév flight to Budapest today, and we’re going to be on it.”
T he Gresham Palace royal suite was one of the most luxurious in Budapest and overlooked the Danube, the Chain Bridge, the Royal Castle, and the Buda Hills. The suite’s Art Deco lounge area contained two large sofas facing each other. Will and Sentinel were sitting on one, Borzaya was on the other. Between them was a glass coffee table, with mugs and a flask on it.
Will’s presence in the hotel room clearly unsettled the FSB officer.
The chubby operative was sitting with his legs crossed. Immaculately groomed, he wore a charcoal gray suit, double-cuff shirt, and a silk tie bound in a Windsor knot. His hair was slicked back, and, judging by the scent emanating from him, he’d obviously applied a generous quantity of expensive eau de toilette to his smooth face.
He seemed reluctant to speak as he stared at Will. Then, “You know my language?”
Will answered in Russian, “Yes.”
Borzaya glanced sharply at Sentinel. “One hundred percent sure that he’s trustworthy?”
Sentinel leaned forward. “He wouldn’t be here if I thought otherwise.”
Borzaya’s expression remained hostile. Looking back at Will, he asked, “Name?”
“Richard Bancroft.”
“Real name?”
“No.”
“The name you used to travel into Hungary?”
“No.”
Borzaya nodded. “Good.” He withdrew a slim silver cigarette case, flicked it open with one hand, withdrew a cigarette, and lit it with a gold lighter. “But you’ve still not explained why you’re here.”
Sentinel interjected. “Richard’s from headquarters. Whatever you’ve found out, he can take back to London.”
“London?” Borzaya clicked his tongue. “That would be a very bad mistake.”
Will was about to speak, but Sentinel motioned for him to stay quiet.
Borzaya puffed on his cigarette for a while, his eyes flicking between the two MI6 officers. “I’m not cleared to know the whereabouts of Taras Khmelnytsky. I tried, but all I could find out was that he was on a top secret training exercise.”
Sentinel slapped his hands on his legs. “Damn it!”
“The restriction on knowledge about his whereabouts is only temporary while the training exercise lasts. Once it’s over, I’ll be able to track him for you.” Borzaya paused. “Unless . . . that’s too late.”
Sentinel shook his head. “Much too late.”
The FSB officer carefully extinguished his cigarette and seemed deep in thought. Fixing his gaze directly on Sentinel, he said, “Not all is lost.”
“You found something in the archives?”
Borzaya nodded. “Something very bad.” He looked at Will. “If you intend to take what I say back to London, you need to leave this room right now.”
Will shook his head. “I’m not going anywhere until Khmelnytsky’s stopped.”
“Stopped from doing what?” Borzaya glanced at Sentinel. “I know you want to find him, but you’ve not told me why.”
Sentinel responded, “For your own safety.”
Borzaya laughed, clearly not buying Sentinel’s explanation as to why he was seeking Razin.
“What did you find in the archives?”
Borzaya darted a look at Will. “Leave or stay?”
Will held his gaze. “I’ll stay.”
“I hope it’s the right decision.” Borzaya lit another cigarette and gazed toward one of the hotel room windows. “There are tens of thousands of KGB files in the FSB and SVR archives. It would take years to read them all.”
Sentinel snapped, “But you didn’t need to read them all. I gave you a very specific task.”
“You did.” Borzaya
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