The Hit List

by Chris Ryan

  waited for two hours. Leon went but into the >r in order to make a report to Chris and Terry. 5 a time, so pliant seemed Pasquale, they turned on it TV and watched the rerun of a football game u'ch Marseilles managed to snatch victory from

  3l

  the players exchanged shirts, Andreas turned to 'Why don't we make that call now?' ?n looked at his watch, and nodded. For ten es he rehearsed Pasquale, taking him through contingency, every possible variation on the ersation. 'Tell her,' he kept repeating, 'that you Sine to her. That it's urgent. That it's political, ^you can't discuss it on an open line.'

  345

  The Hit List

  Finally Leon was content, or as content as he was ever likely to be. 'Just remember,' he told Pasquale. 'I'm going to understand every word you say. One nuance, one inflexion that you are being coerced, and my colleague here will blow your brains through that window into the Rue de Lappe. So don't get clever.'

  Pasquale hesitated for a moment, and then used his good hand to dial a seven-figure number, which Slater memorised.

  The phone rang for thirty seconds.

  'Branca? Chem? Oui, c'est moi, Miko ..."

  Branca Nikolic was clearly very pissed off indeed at being woken before 7am, and in no mood to listen to the rantings of Miko Pasquale. Finally, however, the drug-dealer's urgency and fear communicated itself, and she listened. Thirty seconds later he clicked off the phone.

  'She wouldn't let me come to her. She said to be at the Cafe Metz just outside Strasbourg St Denis metro station in half an hour.'

  Leon nodded. Slater pulled out a metro map. 'What's the nearest station to here?' he asked Pasquale.

  'Bastille.'

  'Look,' Slater said to Leon. 'You can get to Strasbourg St Denis station direct from Bastille. No changes. And it's exactly the same--'

  '. . . from Barbes,' Leon nodded. 'I know. I noticed that too. So, here's what we're going to do.'

  Two minutes later Leon had gone, leaving Slater and

  346

  Chris Ryan

  idreas to guard Pasquale. The plan, Leon had cided, was that Terry should go ahead to Strasbourg Denis by metro, locate Branca at the cafe, and be ady to follow her back to wherever she was staying, feiven that it was approaching rush hour, and that anca had nominated a cafe next to a metro station, it reasonable to assume that she would be arriving departing by metro. j< Given also that there were reasonable grounds for pposing that Branca was staying in Barbes, Leon auld go straight to Barbes-Rochechouart metro If their calculations were correct, Branca Id return from the Strasbourg St Denis rendezvous Jarbes, a journey of only four stops, and lead Leon I Terry to wherever she was staying. Of the three of bumped by Branca and her RDB team in the che-Guyon forest, Leon insisted, he was the least ly to be recognised. There were always a handful of ck guys in and around Barbes station handing out advertising the local marabouts, or West African i-doctors. He wouldn't stick out. In case Branca ved by car, Chris would be standing by in the sot.

  and Andreas stayed with Pasquale. The smell Jy baked bread and freshly ground coffee was , up enticingly from the Rue de Lappe below, but vo ex-SAS men dared not allow Pasquale to make i all breakfast, as he had offered to do. The shaven led dealer had not got to carve out an important of the Parisian hard drugs market by being

  347

  The Hit List

  amenable, Slater reflected. Only abject fear would keep him in line, and then not for long.

  At eight o'clock precisely, Slater recocked the Sig Sauer and Pasquale dialled Branca's number and said what Leon had earlier ordered him to say. He had been sick since speaking to her, the dealer complained. He was feeling terrible. He could no longer make it to the rendezvous. Would she forgive him?

  Slater and Andreas smiled at each other. They couldn't understand all the French, but Pasquale's Nokia was practically jumping out of his hands, so violent was Branca's fury at having been woken up and had her time wasted.

  'The prtoblem?' Pasquale mumbled in response to a particularly vitriolic squawk. 'The problem's to do with one of the English models. The UK press are on to her habit and there's a danger that names are going to be named . . . Yes I did ask you to get out of bed to hear that, damn right . . . Well, it's important to me, and . . . No, you can't just pay off British tabloid journalists, no. But . . . Of course I'll deal with it, but you should be aware that

  He held the phone away from his ear, shaking his head. He had clearly been cut off mid-sentence. Andreas reached over to confirm that the mobile was switched off and then nodded to Pasquale.

  'That was good, man. I have to say that you were good there.'

  What he did not say was that neither his nor Slater's French was good enough for them to have known if

  348

  Chris Ryan

  ad attempted to warn Branca. Luckily, this jility did not seem to have occurred to Pasquale. Jbw about a drink, Miko?' Slater asked.

  juale stared at him. 'A drink? You mean . . .' I whisky, yeah. Or a vodka. What've you got?'

  ave whisky,' Pasquale gasped, screwing up his

  i a wave of pain overtook him.

  There?' asked Slater.

  juale pointed feebly to a cabinet, from which s took out a sealed bottle of twelve-year-old Islay i glass.

  if-filling the glass, he placed it in front of sale. 'Cheers!'

  dealer stared from Slater to Andreas and back

  'Non', he said, disbelievingly.

  �'/' smiled Slater and Andreas together.

  vly, hesitantly, Pasquale sipped at the drink, his easing as the alcohol reached his throat, ic on, mate, drink up,' said Andreas. 'You've i whole bottle to go.'

  1 Pasquale hesitated. Pensively, Slater levelled the auer and blew the screen out of the television. I gesture had the required effect. With a shaking , Pasquale lifted the glass and took a deep swallow, icre's a boy!' said Andreas. 'That wasn't so bad, t?'

  are minutes later half the bottle was gone. Pasquale f muttering to himself, his words slurring into in arehensibility. jme on, mate, down the hatch!' said Andreas

  349

  The Hit List

  encouragingly, pinching the drunk man's nose, pulling back his head, and pouring in another neat glassful.

  'Empty stomach,' said Slater. 'Always speeds it up. He isn't half going to feel like shit when he comes around. Not that it'll be anything to compare with what he puts smack and crack addicts through.' He looked at the dealer contemptuously. 'Will it? Eh, fuckface?'

  Pasquale groaned and closed his eyes. Two thirds of the bottle was now washing around in his stomach.

  'See if you can find a runnel in the kitchen,' Slater suggested to Andreas.

  Ten minutes later the bottle lay empty on the floor. Laying him on a carpet, Slater and Andreas dragged the by now helpless Pasquale into the furthest bedroom, hauled him on to the bed, plasticuffed him with his arms behind his back, and pulled a duvet over him. He started to snore almost immediately. In order to be forewarned if Branca attempted to make contact, Slater also pocketed the dealer's mobile phone.

  'How long's he going to be under for, do you reckon?' asked Andreas.

  'At a guess, until this evening,' replied Slater. 'We'll probably have to make a return visit at some point and top him up.'

  'Well I looked in the cupboard and there's another five bottles of this stuff, so he can carry on his bender without switching brands.'

  'He'll be glad of that,' said Slater.

  They closed the bedroom door on the unconscious

  350

  Chris Ryan

  |uale and placed the empty whisky bottle inside the ed television, as if it had been hurled there in a ("drunken rage. Anyone searching further -- for the i few hours at least - would find the sleeping figure ath the duvet. Should the searcher go further still, aver the plasticuffs and attempt to wake him, it was y that a coherent explanation of his condition be forthcoming. The rapid consumption of Mproof alcohol induces short-term memory loss, would be some d
ays before Pasquale would be piece together what had happened to him. just to be on the safe side, Slater and Andreas themselves into the flat. 'How about some st?' asked Andreas. 'The kitchen's pretty well sd and I'm bloody starving.' I English, then,' said Slater.

  it's mobile rang shortly after Sam. It was Chris. 'Is jtnan immobilised?' she asked. le's down,' Slater answered. jlet back here ASAP. Terry and Leon have a result.' punched the air. 'That's brilliant!' ers crossed. See you soonest.' , the hotel, the mood was optimistic. Terry had to stake out the location, so Leon told them had happened since the two of them left dale's flat an hour and a half earlier.

  len Pasquale rang to say he wasn't coming to the |sat the Cafe Metz, Branca got seriously, seriously off. She shouted at the waiter, banged down

  351

  The Hit List

  some change, and headed straight back to the Strasbourg St Denis metre. Four stops up the line to Barbes and she charges out again with Terry in tow. I'm hanging out at the station exit with the Africans when she comes screaming through - still far too angry to think about counter-surveillance - and starts moving up the Boulevard Barbes at high speed. I lock on behind Terry and we tail her up the boulevard and into the Rue de la Goutte d'Or. A few more twists and turns through the souk and she goes into this narrow little place called the Rue de Coude.

  'Terry and I wait until she's inside, make a couple of passes past the building, and then pull back. The place is a brick-built warehouse block, previously containing garment-industry sweatshops. Most of the units now look vacant, but the security's recently been reinforced on the top-floor windows -- and I mean very recently, because the wood shavings, iron-filings and spare bolts are still lying out on the roadside beneath the windows - so our best guess is that that's where they've got her. Terry's still over there, anyway, so he'll let us know as soon as he's got confirmation.'

  'Did you get a look at the roof?' asked Slater.

  'I knew you were going to ask that!' said Leon. 'And * the answer is not really. Terry'11 certainly give it a good 1 recce, but I didn't have time. All I can tell you is that it's tiled, and not flat.'

  'Our main advantage,' said Chris, 'seems to be that they don't know that we've sussed the place. They're

  352

  Chris Ryan

  sing to be expecting any kind of assault.'

  ee with that,' said Leon. 'My guess is that the the windows were put there specifically to e in. They're not anticipating having to keep ^anyone else out.'

  how do we play it?' asked Slater. 'If we go in aanded with automatic weapons and try and : out, we'll have the place crawling with armed within minutes. Can we do it on an official : the Regiment in, or at a pinch the French I?'

  had a word with the boss,' said Chris. 'And sion our own. No Regiment, no GIGN, nothing even the police. Politically the whole thing's just achy. The basic message is that Eve's ours, we've extract her on our own, and if anyone gets they can expect no help from HMG. Hostile

  remember?' iant,' said Slater. : others looked at him. 'That's how it usually is, ' said Andreas. 'That's the price we pay for our stions-asked status.'

  nodded. He didn't want the others to think had an emotional involvement in the situation involvement that might compromise his tional efficiency. If Leon or Chris suspected that I'was something between him and Eve, they'd him to the background immediately. He was st recent recruit to the Cadre, he reminded f, and as such the most disposable.

  353

  The Hit List

  'It's when situations like this come up,' Andreas continued, 'that you realise how dependent you were in the Regiment. On the MOD, the police, the Home Office, whoever. If you wanted something -- kit, money, back-up, firepower - you just had to ask and it was there.' He hooked his thumbs fatalistically into the belt-loops of his jeans. 'Here it's different. Here it's just us.'

  Slater nodded. 'The RDB aren't going to want to attract the police's attention either, though, are they?'

  'If there's unsilenced shooting, the police will be there within five minutes,' said Leon. 'Ten, max.'

  'Look,' said Chris. 'Until Terry makes his report, we can't make any plans. Why don't you guys go and get some sleep? Whatever's going to happen is going to happen tonight, so you're going to need to be sharp. Paris has bad associations for us, we don't want to lose anyone else here.'

  She turned to Leon. 'What arrangements did you make about weapons?'

  'The best I could manage for definite was three ex military FAMAS rifles with silencers. They're quite reliable, in fact -- we had them in the Legion.'

  'Ammunition?'

  'Comes with. The guy's waiting for my call to arrange an exchange. The price is thirty thousand francs, cash.'

  'Why don't you make the call now?' Chris suggested. 'Arrange the pick-up for tonight, so you don't have to bring them back here. Do you trust this guy?"

  354

  Chris Ryan

  '!'ve done business with him before,' said Leon. t's where I got the Clock and the Sig Sauer. And ^S rifles are never a problem -- all the French services have them.' nodded. 'OK. Get some sleep.'

  pm, showered and changed, Slater rejoined the He had not slept well; fractured images of i^-Khayat's disembowelled body slipping into the darkness of the Seine had alternated with the that he himself was drowning. And Eve. was happening to her, locked up with Branca |�lic and her RDB footsoldiers? They would have tioned her, at the very least, about the Fanon at assassination. They would have wanted to find " MI6 knew about the Ondine deal, or whether Just wanted to recover the disc, tical questioning, as the Regiment had called it, refined science. Eve was trained to resist sgation and would hold out for as long as she but everyone broke sooner or later. Training i at Pontrilas or Imber, however harsh, came to Fingernails were not ripped out with pliers, les were not taped to the genitals, prisoners i not anally raped with cattle-prods. In the field, rer, it was a different story. In the field it went on and got worse and worse, until you fell -- or led - apart.

  le disc was not delivered intact, that would ily be Eve's fate. Slater had no illusions about

  355

  The Hit List

  that. She would be tortured until she had given up all that she knew, and then killed and disposed of.

  But the orders from Manderson were that the disc was not to be sacrificed for Eve. They would have to go in and pull her out: to assault what would probably turn out to be a near-impregnable position defended by a numerically superior, better-armed force. Tactically, it made no sense at all.

  But then, Slater had mused as he drifted into sleep, what the fuck did?

  In the room that had been the OP he found Terry, who had handed over watcher duties to Chris. Slater congratulated him on the success of his knackering surveillance marathon.

  'Well, you know what they say,' said Terry, swigging on a can of Fanta from the minibar. 'When all else fails, bring in a fat lad from Essex!'

  'I'll remember that,' smiled Slater, buoyed up by Terry's cheerful manner.

  A large steak and French fries was waiting for him on a trolley, and he devoured it at the glass-topped dressing-table. Around him the others were making similar arrangements. Slater watched them covertly. Basically the unit divided into the brains, the eyes and the muscle. Eve and Leon were the brains, the planners; Chris and Terry were the eyes, and he and Andreas were the muscle. But it was more complex than that, because according to Eve the others were all pretty good with firearms, too -- excepting Terry, of course. Terry's job, like Chris's, was to bind the team

  356

  Chris Ryan

  jgether. The two of them seemed to have aim itless patience and steady good humour. Of cou , of these roles overlapped - at a pinch they could each other's jobs. He himself, Slater reckoned, - bad planner, and there wasn't much Andreas did aow about surveillance, and so on. , They were a good team, Slater concluded. He'd h doubts to begin with, but having seen them sration he wouldn't have changed any of them. A the team was to be put to
the ultimate test - hostage-rescue.

  coffee poured, cigarettes lit, and the load ley returned to the corridor, Terry belch lingfully into a paper tissue. 'All right lads, listi 'he position, as far as we can calculate, is that E1 sing held on the fifth floor of a warehouse in tl de Coude. We have no hard proof of that, but 1 this' -- he held up a scrap of paper -- 'just outsid fou can see it's a receipt for a cappuccino from tl hMocha at the Waterloo Eurostar terminus. TP ; is last Friday, the day we came over. Like I said I't prove anything, but if this wasn't Eve trying t s us a sign, then it's one hell of a coincidence.' le others nodded. 'It would have been dark whe brought her in,' said Andreas. 'She'd have bee

  drop it without being spotted.' j{ow I've had a close look at the building througl 6* -- Terry held up a small pair of Zeiss binocular

  I've done a few drawings.' Dm the pocket of his coat, which was lying on thi

  357

  The Hit List

  bed next to him, he took out a French schoolboy's notebook.

  'This is of the front, which is in glazed brick, and this is of the back, which is the same. The roof is the mansard type. It's steeply pitched and covered in very old, very insecure-looking slates. The roofs to either side are the same. The only way up there that I could see is through the building itself and out through a skylight. There's a fire escape, but it's very old and narrow, and I doubt whether it would take the weight of an armed man. And even if it did you'd be spotted the moment you left the ground. They've got a pretty effective security rota going, with at least one guy patrolling the area at all times. As we already know, these guys aren't the usual brandy-swigging, shell-suit wearing Serbian paramilitary bullies, they're well trained RDB agents. They're going to notice if a mountaineering team armed with assault rifles starts making its way up the front of their building.

  'A more sensible option, in my opinion, would be to pick the lock of one of the buildings next door, which are both five-storey warehouse blocks, and take armed possession of the top-floor. Once up there you could remove some brickwork and go in through the partition wall.'