some more.’
‘Why the fuck should I trust you?’
‘Because if you don’t, my dear man, you won’t make it to the end of the street.’
Gardner scanned the hotels and inns lined up along the Avenida Atlántica. The yellows, pinks and whites were bathed in a platinum glow from the streetlights and the traffic. The Marriott towered above the other buildings in a fuck-you gesture. Somewhere further down the road, Land’s friends were waiting to kick Gardner’s arse.
‘Here,’ said Land, tossing him a key card. ‘Room 307. There’s a fresh shirt and pair of jeans in the wardrobe. And for God’s sake have a shower while you’re at it. See you in the bar in twenty minutes.’
He showered and changed. Gardner swapped his Timberlands for black leather slip-ons and nabbed a pair of Ralph Lauren shades. He checked himself in the mirror. Looked as if he belonged in a reality show searching for his dream home.
The Terráneo lounge bar filled up with the pre-dinner crowd. Everyone was moneyed up. It didn’t take Gardner long to find Land. The Firm’s man in Brazil occupied a window table, admiring the view while swirling a glass of red in his hand. His jacket was draped tastefully over the back of the chair. The sleeves on his creased white shirt were rolled up to the elbow.
‘Caipirinha?’ Land asked as a waiter loitered.
‘I’ll take a beer,’ Gardner said.
‘Now that you’ve rejoined civilization,’ said the MI6 man, ‘I’m guessing you have lots of questions. Please, permit me to shed some light.’ The waiter returned with a bottle of something called Antarctica.
Land folded his hands in his lap. ‘It’s very simple. From the moment you landed in Rio, the Firm has been watching you closely.’
Gardner gave his screw-face. Took a hit of Antarctica. The beer juiced his bloodstream.
‘We intercepted Bald’s phone call to you. No doubt he realized that BOPE monitor all calls and chatter coming in and out of the favela, which is why he spoke in code. But he neglected to consider who might be listening in at the other end of the line. It wasn’t a very hard code for us to crack, of course, and we were delighted he reached out to you. John’s been very quiet of late, you see.’
A smell of lemon and chilli greeted Gardner as a second waiter rocked up and carefully arranged plates of boiled mandioc, potato fritters, sautéed chicken livers and smoked red sausages seasoned with mixed herbs.
‘I do hope you’re hungry. Everything’s delicious, but I strongly recommend the stewed cow’s tongue.’
‘Lost my appetite,’ Gardner said, pushing the plates to one side. ‘You knew about John from the start?’
‘Yes, yes,’ said Land, popping a fried cod ball into his mouth. ‘His cocaine plot’s been on the Firm’s watchlist for the past six months, give or take. Seriously, you’ve no idea how much hassle you spared us by agreeing to help your friend.’
‘Not any more he ain’t. To me he’s a stranger.
Was
,’ said Gardner, correcting himself.
‘That’s where you’re wrong, old chap. The fact is, Bald escaped from that hellish favela and is currently winging his way down the Atlantic on a rented Hacker-Craft piloted by an undercover agent. If we had a pair of binoculars we might even spot him passing by.’
Gardner steamed, as if he’d swallowed hot coals. ‘John’s alive, and you just let him waltz right out of there?’
‘We had to. If we’re to penetrate his drug-trafficking ring.’
He took another swig of beer. Three gulps and the bottle was half empty.
‘John told me the plan was to transport the bricks to Santos by boat, and then a friend of Dave Hands was going to rendezvous with them and move it on. That’s the ring you’re talking about?’
Land nodded quickly. ‘They’re employing a rather unusual shipment route. The cocaine is due to be smuggled out on a Royal Navy frigate. The HMS
Lizard
. Our sources indicate that Bald has befriended a Wren by the name
‘Why the fuck should I trust you?’
‘Because if you don’t, my dear man, you won’t make it to the end of the street.’
Gardner scanned the hotels and inns lined up along the Avenida Atlántica. The yellows, pinks and whites were bathed in a platinum glow from the streetlights and the traffic. The Marriott towered above the other buildings in a fuck-you gesture. Somewhere further down the road, Land’s friends were waiting to kick Gardner’s arse.
‘Here,’ said Land, tossing him a key card. ‘Room 307. There’s a fresh shirt and pair of jeans in the wardrobe. And for God’s sake have a shower while you’re at it. See you in the bar in twenty minutes.’
He showered and changed. Gardner swapped his Timberlands for black leather slip-ons and nabbed a pair of Ralph Lauren shades. He checked himself in the mirror. Looked as if he belonged in a reality show searching for his dream home.
The Terráneo lounge bar filled up with the pre-dinner crowd. Everyone was moneyed up. It didn’t take Gardner long to find Land. The Firm’s man in Brazil occupied a window table, admiring the view while swirling a glass of red in his hand. His jacket was draped tastefully over the back of the chair. The sleeves on his creased white shirt were rolled up to the elbow.
‘Caipirinha?’ Land asked as a waiter loitered.
‘I’ll take a beer,’ Gardner said.
‘Now that you’ve rejoined civilization,’ said the MI6 man, ‘I’m guessing you have lots of questions. Please, permit me to shed some light.’ The waiter returned with a bottle of something called Antarctica.
Land folded his hands in his lap. ‘It’s very simple. From the moment you landed in Rio, the Firm has been watching you closely.’
Gardner gave his screw-face. Took a hit of Antarctica. The beer juiced his bloodstream.
‘We intercepted Bald’s phone call to you. No doubt he realized that BOPE monitor all calls and chatter coming in and out of the favela, which is why he spoke in code. But he neglected to consider who might be listening in at the other end of the line. It wasn’t a very hard code for us to crack, of course, and we were delighted he reached out to you. John’s been very quiet of late, you see.’
A smell of lemon and chilli greeted Gardner as a second waiter rocked up and carefully arranged plates of boiled mandioc, potato fritters, sautéed chicken livers and smoked red sausages seasoned with mixed herbs.
‘I do hope you’re hungry. Everything’s delicious, but I strongly recommend the stewed cow’s tongue.’
‘Lost my appetite,’ Gardner said, pushing the plates to one side. ‘You knew about John from the start?’
‘Yes, yes,’ said Land, popping a fried cod ball into his mouth. ‘His cocaine plot’s been on the Firm’s watchlist for the past six months, give or take. Seriously, you’ve no idea how much hassle you spared us by agreeing to help your friend.’
‘Not any more he ain’t. To me he’s a stranger.
Was
,’ said Gardner, correcting himself.
‘That’s where you’re wrong, old chap. The fact is, Bald escaped from that hellish favela and is currently winging his way down the Atlantic on a rented Hacker-Craft piloted by an undercover agent. If we had a pair of binoculars we might even spot him passing by.’
Gardner steamed, as if he’d swallowed hot coals. ‘John’s alive, and you just let him waltz right out of there?’
‘We had to. If we’re to penetrate his drug-trafficking ring.’
He took another swig of beer. Three gulps and the bottle was half empty.
‘John told me the plan was to transport the bricks to Santos by boat, and then a friend of Dave Hands was going to rendezvous with them and move it on. That’s the ring you’re talking about?’
Land nodded quickly. ‘They’re employing a rather unusual shipment route. The cocaine is due to be smuggled out on a Royal Navy frigate. The HMS
Lizard
. Our sources indicate that Bald has befriended a Wren by the name
Similar Books
