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“Yes, sir, sights,” West replied.
Erin murmured approvingly. “That’s not a bad idea. Maybeyou could borrow a camera and any other gear you might need for sightseeing from the armory,” she suggested.
“I was hoping you might say that, ma’am,” West replied.
It was clear what was happening. The US Government was going to support me through West, while retaining plausible deniability. It was an elegant lie, and fine by me. I would have single-handedly torn Moscow apart, stone by stone, to recover my team and get two minutes alone with the man who had been responsible for so much evil.
Having West by my side would make the task a great deal easier.
CHAPTER 87
HAVING SLEPT ON the flight from Beijing, I was ready to go, but West needed some rest. After I’d been checked over by the duty medic who’d pronounced me battered but essentially fit, we each took one of the embassy staff bedrooms. Mine was on the third floor, located in a small residential wing away from the offices, on the western edge of the building. It was simply furnished, with a single bed, closet, desk, chair, and small bathroom.
I wanted to call Justine to reassure her I was safe. I knew how worried she was about me coming to Moscow but given the amount of surveillance the embassy was subject to, decided the risk would be too great. Once I’d used the bathroom, I lay on the bed, expecting restless impatience to be my companion while I waited for morning, but I had underestimated how exhausted I was. Days of relentless pressure in Beijing and the after-effects of West’s collision with the Russians combined to send me tosleep. I didn’t even realize I had gone until I woke to find bright sunlight streaming through the window.
“Feel better?” West asked.
He was seated at the desk. I’d been so far under I hadn’t even registered him come in.
“Yeah,” I replied, rubbing my face.
“Ready to go?”
Had he feigned the need for rest for my benefit?
“I’ve packed a truck, so we’re ready when you are,” he added.
Whether intentionally or not, the enforced rest he’d given me had made me feel so much better. I got to my feet and stretched, energized and more like my old self.
Ten minutes later we were in one of the embassy Land Rover Defenders, concealed in a secret compartment beneath the flatbed. Next to us was in assortment of weapons West had borrowed from the armory, and above us were flight cases of gear that wouldn’t raise eyebrows during a search. Comms equipment, torches, and other field supplies.
And the flight cases were searched, twice, at two checkpoints near the embassy, but the secret compartment did its job and soon the Land Rover made it out of the danger zone.
After a while twisting and turning through Moscow, the Marine driver pulled over and gave us the signal to open the compartment. We climbed out to find ourselves in a derelict industrial site.
“I made sure we weren’t followed, Master Gunnery Sergeant,” the Marine said.
“It’s just Marlon today. I’m officially on vacation.”
“Some vacation,” I remarked with a smile.
“There are worse ways to R and R,” West replied. “You going to be OK getting back?” he asked the Marine.
“There’s a cab rank about a mile east of here.”
“Well, get going,” West suggested.
“Enjoy your vacation, sirs,” the Marine replied before jogging away.
West took the wheel of the Land Rover and I climbed into the passenger seat.
“Where to?” he asked.
“I think we start at Dinara’s apartment. See what we can find out about this raid on her and the others.”
He nodded, started the engine, and headed out of the deserted lot.
I gave him directions and forty minutes later we were in Yermolayevskiy Lane, opposite a small park. West drove the Land Rover into a bay alongside the green space.
