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“Why doesn’t it matter?”
“Because the man is dead. Why cause his widow more pain?”
“She might know something. It might seem small to her, insignificant.”
“Like what?”
“I don’t know yet.”
Harry scowled for a mile before he shook his head. “Why can’t your informant, agent Four, or whatever his name is, find whatever it is we’re after? If he has the connections and intel that you claim he does, why do we need to do this? Why can’t he find it?”
“Because not everything is electronic. Some things are physical. Sometimes you have to see it in their eyes.”
Harry chewed on the inside of his lip for another mile. “If your number Four believes my handler has been neutralising innocent civilians for financial gain, then he has to have proof, right?”
“He has... some.”
Harry shook his head. “Bullshit. He would have all the electronic proof he needs.” He shot Asher a direct stare. “What aren’t you telling me?”
“He needs physical proof.”
“Like what?” Harry asked. “Files? Video? Recorded conversation?” Then he froze, like a penny had dropped from a great height. He pulled the car over to an abrupt stop on the side of the road, just on the outskirts of Ghardaïa. “Me. He needs me.”
Asher didn’t exactly understand why the truth soured in his belly like curdled milk.
“You need to tell me what the fuck is going on?” Harry said. “Right now. What do you want with me?”
“Harry.”
“You didn’t pull me out of Madrid because we’d stand more of a chance at surviving together. That was bullshit then. It’s bullshit now. You pulled me out, you didn’t kill me when you had the chance, because you need me.”
“Yes. Of course. You cannot be surprised. It’s what we do, Harry.”
“You lied to me.”
“Where was the lie? What did I tell you that was a lie?”
“You should have told me. When I asked you what the plan was, in the very beginning. You should have told me the truth. You need me because I’m the only one who can bring down my fucking government.”
“Yes. And if I told you, you wouldn’t have come with me.”
“For good fucking reason!” He thumped the steering wheel. “For fuck’s sake, Asher.”
Asher pointed his finger at him. “You should be mad. You should be fucking enraged. But not at me. Your handler, your government, put a hit on you. And me. They sold you out, put a price on your head. And me! They want me dead too, remember?”
“You’ve done work for them too? Contracts, assignments, hits for my country?”
“Yes. Many countries.”
Harry blinked and sat back in his seat, as though Asher’s words had physically hit him.
“We’re a liability, a loose end they need tied up and gone because we can expose them. You can expose them. You need to see this through,” Asher added quietly. “We need to see this through because it is our only chance at walking away.”
Harry looked out the windscreen, shaking his head as though his thoughts ran wild and regrouped. After a long few seconds, he looked back to Asher. “And what do you get out of this?”
“I just told you.”
“Your chance to walk away?” Harry squinted at him. “You can walk away anytime you like.”
