“When we finally meet, I’ll be happy to show you a picture.”
“If I hurt your son, I did it because he was a threat.”
“And you think that matters to me?”
Court took his feet off the desk and stood up now. “What is it you want? You seem like you know this world. You understand this life. You seem like a reasonable—”
“Do I?” the Irishman shouted. “Do I seem reasonable to you? I’ve killed five men so far trying to get to you, and I’ll kill more. As many as it takes. I don’t care. I’ve a job to do, and you’re my job.”
“What the fuck’s wrong with you, dude?” Court asked.
“Many things, chief. Many things. I’m feckin’ mad, a lunatic. But this? It’s the most levelheaded thing I’ve ever done.”
Court had no words.
The man on the other end of the line finally said, “I’ve got to go, but each and every hour, know that I’m out here killing them, because I’m not where you are, killing you. Maybe it will weigh on you after a time. Either way, I’ll find ya.
“Better yet, mate. Give me a Signal number where I can reach you in the future.”
“Why would I—”
“Because I might just say ‘fuck it,’ and call you up to tell you where you can find me.”
Court pulled his mobile, opened his app, and generated an encrypted number. This he passed to the man on the other end of the line.
“Got it,” the Irishman said.
Court replied, “Is your plan to keep calling me so you can try to scare me?”
“Today’s contact was so you could have time to think on your sins. If I call you again, it will be to see if you’ve learned anything. I’ve got people lookin’ into your Hanley, lookin’ into you, and I know we’ll be seein’ each other soon.”
Court couldn’t help himself. “You keep working with Gauntlet, and we’ll be seeing each other even sooner.”
There was a pause. The Irishman said, “I don’t know what you’re on about with Gauntlet, never heard of him.”
Court couldn’t tell if this was true or not, but the man on the other end of the line hung up immediately after.
—
Court stood there, the phone in his hand for several seconds, then stopped the recording. He stepped back into the hallway and called Matt, Zack, and a drugged-up Chris Travers in.
He played back the call for them from beginning to end. No one spoke the entire time.
When they were finished, Matt darted away to task Jill, knowing she could find out the names of everyone killed that night in Bulgaria. That done, he came back into the office where the three assets sat around, mostly in stunned silence.
To Hanley, Court said, “He’s fishing. He knows that you and I are in contact, but he didn’t know my name. He didn’t know my voice.”
Hanley said, “This has to be tied to the operation in Russia. It’s possible someone knew both you and I were connected to it.”
“Maybe. But look at all the intelligence compromises going on right now. Someone could, possibly, have gotten some information about me, about my relationship to you, from the U.S. government, and not from the Russian government.”
Zack Hightower blew out a long sigh. “So, Six, our situation isn’t bad enough that you’ve now gotten yourself involved in a personal beef with some assassin.”
Court sniffed. “He’s not some random guy who’s after me. He’s very much connected with our adversaries now.”
Chris Travers spoke up, his hand holding a little pressure on his bandage, because it made talking less painful. “We need to see if what he said about the Hyattsville murder checks out.”
Hanley shook his head. “I read details on the flight in. Knife wound to the throat. That hasn’t been out in the news yet. This guy is who he says he is. He’s an assassin.”
