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‘Bloody hell. Did I know any of them?’

‘Did you know Johnson? He was killed six months ago, then Chandler was shot by a sniper two months ago.’

Sean shook his head. ‘No, I never met them.’

‘You did know the third, though.’

‘Yeah? Who?’

Abbott studied Sean. ‘You.’

CHAPTER THREE

Sean let the silence lengthen while he tried to work out what Abbott meant. How could he have been Zlotnik’s third target?

‘You don’t mean the police?’

‘No. Apparently, they made a cock-up.’ Abbott could almost sense the gears turning behind Sean’s impassive face.

‘Good job, otherwise I wouldn’t be here.’ Sean pulled a mug towards him and filled it from the thermos. The office coffee was the vilest stuff he had ever tasted, but he needed time to think. ‘So what do you mean?’

‘Did you notice anything unusual before the target arrived?’

‘No. Everything was quiet. I did catch a reflection from a window, or something on another building.’

‘And?’

‘I checked it out of course, but I didn’t see anything.’

‘What did you do after?’

‘I moved position.’ He tasted the bitter coffee. ‘You suppose I caught the flicker from a scope?’

‘It’s possible. If that happened, you removed yourself from the line of fire. You were lucky.’

Sean felt an odd sense of detachment. He struggled to recollect the moment he had seen the flash. It might have been nothing, but he hadn’t entirely dismissed the incident. Instead, some instinct caused him to shift, putting the balustrade between him and the reflection.

‘If I was so lucky, I wouldn’t be working for you.’ A small smile around Sean’s lips robbed the remark of offence.

‘If I was as lucky, you wouldn’t be working for me.’ There was no matching smile.

Sean looked up. ‘You asked for me.’

‘Yes I did.’ Abbott raised his hand, palm up. ‘I’m sorry, that was unnecessary. We were, ah.’ He paused.

‘Short staffed?’

Abbott’s smile appeared more like a grimace. ‘We were caught short. There wasn’t enough time to recall anyone from further afield.’

‘I see.’ Sean poured out some more coffee. If the debrief lasted much longer he would have to find a loo. ‘So why are our agents being picked off?’

Abbott sighed. ‘I wish I knew, but we have a good idea who is behind it.’

‘Zlotnik?’

‘Yes. The termination order was a highly unusual step, but we believed it was the only way to stop him.’

‘We?’

Abbott silently indicated the office around him and by implication, the Section.

‘So why was the operation pulled at the last second?’

Abbott sighed again. The man just wouldn’t leave it alone. ‘Oversight caught a whiff.’

Sean nodded. Someone further up the chain had got cold feet after all.

‘Where is he now?’

‘Zlotnik? Gone back to Russia, I expect.’

‘What was he doing in Vienna?’

‘We understood he was there to inspect the security arrangements for the Earth Energy Summit.’

‘He doesn’t normally travel outside of Russia, does he?’

‘No.’

Sean paused for a minute, thinking through the sequence of events. ‘So I was set up.’

Abbott’s expression remained fixed.

‘You brought me in during the closing hours of an operation you had planned long before. No proper briefing, just told to go and finish him. You thought if things ran true to form, Zlotnik would bring in his own sniper to target me.’ He examined Abbott’s face for any trace of embarrassment. There was none.

‘Zlotnik was the bait. I’m guessing you had other people in position, hoping the sniper would give away his location. You’d then try to take him out.’

Abbott waited.

‘Do you not know how I work?’ Sean’s voice rose a notch.

‘How you work?’ Abbott’s voice remained studiously calm.

‘I work alone.’

‘Yes, it's in your file.’

‘So you didn’t consider giving me the whole picture? That the place would be crawling with agents? Or I would be targeted by a Russian hit man?’

Abbott lifted his shoulders, palms outstretched. ‘I did tell you to watch your back. There wasn’t time for anything else. In any case, you more than proved our confidence in your abilities.’

‘I could have bloody died out there.’ Sean rose, anger forcing him to move.

‘There’s a risk with every mission, Sean. One you accept every time you go out there.’

‘I need to work with people I can trust. When I agree to a job, it's because I reckon I have a chance of coming back. I don’t need you to stack the odds against me!’

Abbott spoke softly. ‘Losing your nerve Sean?’

‘No.’

For a fraction of a second, Sean wondered if Abbott had learnt about the tremors. But that was impossible, wasn’t it?

Abbott waited, but when no answer was forthcoming he asked: ‘Could you elaborate?’

Sean thought for a moment. He would have to let them know soon anyway. ‘I want to leave,’ he said simply.

Abbott topped up their mugs. ‘Care to tell us why? Is it the work, conditions, pay…?’

Sean shook his head. ‘This is hard for me. I’ve been here too long.’ He glanced around the room, recalling the various briefings he had had in here over the years. ‘I don’t want to outstay my welcome.’

‘That would never happen. You’ll always be wanted.’

‘Chris, you and I know an agent’s shelf-life is limited. What’s the average age of the current crop — 28, 30? I’ve lasted a long time, and I’m very grateful for everyone here who supported me on my missions. But I’m not immortal; I can’t keep going out and expect to return in one piece.’

‘So you are getting stage fright.’

‘It’s nothing do with that.’

‘Then?’

‘I want to settle down.’

* * *

The PM rubbed his chin while staring off into the distance. The Earth Energy Summit in Vienna was only weeks away, and the recent defection of China from the group continued to dog the agenda. The door opened, and Howard Stern entered.

‘Morning, Howard.’ Prime Minister Terrance Ashdown took in the worried countenance of his Foreign Secretary. ‘Why so glum?’

Stern slumped into the nearest armchair. ‘You remember a couple of weeks ago I mentioned the report on Russian energy production was imminent?’

The Prime Minister nodded.

‘Well, it came out today.’ Stern slapped a file down on the PM’s desk. ‘And it makes terrible reading.’

Ashdown regarded his colleague closely. He was not usually so gloomy about another country’s economic prospects, but Howard Stern had been around the block more than a few times. He was a consummate politician, and if he was worried, then the PM should be too.

Ashdown sat back in his chair. ‘Tell me what you’re thinking’ he said, indicating the report.

‘It stinks. I warned you earlier the stats might be bad, but I didn’t think they would be this bad. This is the fourth consecutive year Russian oil revenues have fallen, and this time they’re disastrous.’

‘Why should we be worried? We’re developing new-found reserves in the North Sea, and now fracking has proved to be stable under the right conditions we will soon have enough to avoid being dependent on non-allied countries.’

Howard Stern turned a world-weary eye on the PM. ‘Terrance, this isn’t about us. I know the UK will have enough to become self-sufficient eventually.’ He pointed to the file. ‘The reality is that now Russia hasn’t.’