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“So he could go solo?”
Fitzroy nodded. “He dropped in to my offices in London as soon as he left MI5. We’d stayed in touch, so he was aware I was running a successful security and risk consulting company.”
Court corrected him. “You ran assassins.”
“That was hardly the wording on my business card.”
“Right.”
“Jack wanted to get into the private security consulting world himself. He sought advice, asked for contacts, leads, strategies for success in the trade.”
“And you gave them to him?”
“Absolutely not.” Fitzroy leaned forward. “I was building my own business. Friend or not, I wasn’t going to help him to that degree. Still, he built an organization on his own. Analysts, technicians, computer support, things of that nature. Working mostly for aboveboard corporate accounts.
“But as soon as I took down my shingle and retired, he was there at my door. This was shortly after that business you and I dealt with in Hong Kong.” He looked at Zoya. “Where we met, my dear.
“Anyway, Tudor wanted to retool his business model, wanted to seek out the type of contracts I had been handling.”
“Murder for hire,” Court said flatly.
“Quite. I gave him many of my contacts, all of my outstanding contracts. I showed him how to communicate with my assets.”
“So, basically, you handed him the keys to your company.”
“That’s right, yes. My firm, Cheltenham Security Services, was folded into his firm, Lighthouse Risk Control. His company was registered in the British Virgin Islands; he lived there for a while, but then he had his place built down in Tulum.”
“So you are the one who gave him Lancer?” Zoya asked.
“No. Lancer was long gone by the time I closed Cheltenham. He was an asset I shouldn’t have taken on in the first place.” He looked to Zoya. “What you must understand is my top dog, our boy Courtland here, was extremely choosy about who he’d operate against. He turned me down nine times for every ten offers I sent his way. All his operations had to be honorable.” Looking at Court, he said, “Though it was your code of honor the rest of us had to abide by.”
“I wouldn’t say you abided by anything.”
Fitzroy chortled again. “Yes, I had other hard assets, and I employed them when you turned me down.” He looked to Zoya. “But I didn’t have anyone world-class like Courtland.”
Court said, “Stop talking about me like I’m not even here. It’s weird.”
Fitzroy said, “You’re a bloody legend and you know it. That’s what happens to legends.”
Court rolled his eyes.
Zoya asked, “How did you come to hire Lancer?”
“Scott Kincaid had been working for another security firm since soon after he was released from prison. Small operations. West Africa, if memory serves. He was unfulfilled, looking for more action, and I was a man with a need for an asset who would get into the action.” He looked at Court. “I’d lost sense of right and wrong, as you know by some of the jobs I offered you.”
Court did know, but he said nothing.
“I brought Lancer in. He did one job for me, it went well. He did a second job, it went less well.”
Zoya said, “The problem?”
“Collateral. Not killed, but injured.”
“Go on,” Court instructed.
“Then I had a contract in Turkey. Two assets were required for the job due to the target’s quick reaction force nearby.”
Court picked it up from there. “I met Lancer in Ankara. I could tell he was a dick from the beginning, but operationally, he seemed switched on.” He looked at Zoya. “Plus, I trusted Fitz’s judgment when it came to the men he put in the field.”
