'Another time,' Fikret promised her in a quiet voice no one else heard, 'you and I will even the score between us.'
A quiver of fear spasmed through Ajza's stomach. There were few days in her job when she wasn't afraid. She didn't know what it was about herself that continued to draw her to the spy business. There had to be something wrong with her.
Whatever it was, though, had infected Ilyas, as well. She suspected it had something to do with their parents, how fiercely her mother and father loved their new country and the opportunities England provided for them.
She didn't answer Fikret's challenge, but she didn't look away from him, either.
Cursing again, Fikret surrendered the steering wheel and slid over to the passenger side. He rolled down the window and spat in disgust.
Behind the wheel, Ajza took her pistol from her waistband and shoved it between her thigh and the seat. She started the engine, put the truck into a lower gear than Fikret had and let out the clutch. The truck lurched forward, but it kept moving.
The men, led by Nazmi, cheered. Ajza caught sight of the young man in the long side mirror and smiled a little at the celebration taking place behind her.
A moment later Nazmi ran up beside her and clung to the door while he stood on the running board. 'Mustafa says you should follow the car.' He pointed at a dust-covered sedan so old and rusty that Ajza couldn't identify the make.
'All right,' Ajza said.
'I will still buy you breakfast.'
Fikret cursed foully.
'We'll see,' she said.
'But we must celebrate your great success. Even Fikret has to agree that your skills are important today. If not for you, the truck might sit there until Mustafa hired a driver.'
Ajza checked the rearview mirror. 'Unless you plan on hanging on to the truck the whole way, you'd better get in one of the cars.'
Nazmi dropped away and went back to join the others. They all climbed back into the cars they'd arrived in.
Ajza followed the sedan, but her mind raced. Where was the backup team that was supposed to be shadowing her?
7
'Do you have an image of the woman?' Samantha asked as she watched the convoy take shape in Istanbul.
'Yes. I'm running it against the databases now.'
Samantha watched the truck roll through the narrow streets. The presence of the woman hadn't startled her. There were others within the group, but very few of them. To survive in such an environment, women had to be harder and more calloused than the men.
But where had this one learned to drive big trucks?
The attention to detail, the way she subconsciously filed away pieces that didn't fit, made Samantha Rhys- Jones invaluable to MI-6. She'd quickly gone from light fieldwork to intel gathering and processing. Those skills had drawn the attention of Room 59.
'Indigo,' the Red Team leader said, 'do we intercept the convoy?'
'Yes. But only if it leaves town. If they stash the cargo inside the city limits, we'll take care of it later. I don't want any collateral damage on this one,' Samantha said.
'Understood.'
Samantha never wanted collateral damage. The deaths of bystanders weighed heavily on her. During her career, it sometimes happened — just as she'd sometimes lost agents she minded — but she worked hard to prevent that.
'Ma'am, I've identified the woman. She belongs to MI-6.'
Samantha walked over to the woman's computer. She studied the face on the screen but didn't recognize it.
According to the file, Ajza Manaev held a position as a field agent with considerable experience for someone so young. Evidently she performed well at what she did.
'Orange,' Samantha said.
'Yes,' Kate replied.
Samantha watched the convoy thread through the winding streets of the Kadikoy district. More people were up and starting to fill the sidewalks, streets and cafes. The potential for unplanned losses was increasing exponentially.
'We have a problem,' Samantha said.
8
'Remove his gag,' Kate said.
Without a word, Jacob Marrs hooked a finger in the sock he'd used to silence Hirschvogel. The German sat tied to a chair near his desk. He spat when the gag was clear, then cursed Kate.
While Hirschvogel vented so colorfully, obviously given some courage about being held captive for nearly an hour but not killed outright, Jake casually reached out and backhanded him in the face. The blow silenced Hirschvogel immediately.
'That's not how you talk to a lady,' Jake stated affably.
Shocked, Hirschvogel glared at Jake. 'If I ever meet you again, you're a dead man.'
Jake smiled and spoke softly. 'Just one more reason to heave you over the balcony before I leave. I didn't much care for you before you decided to make this personal. But promising to be a threat in the future?' He shook his head.
Visibly afraid, perhaps remembering that Jake had killed three of his bodyguards without breaking a sweat, Hirschvogel looked to Kate for support.
'Tell me about the weapons in Istanbul,' Kate said.
Hirschvogel licked his lips nervously. Blood trickled from the corner of his mouth. 'I know nothing.'
'If you don't know anything about them,' Kate said conversationally, 'you're not worth anything to me.'
'Balcony's looking better and better all the time,' Jake said.
'What do you want to know?' Hirschvogel asked.
'I know you regularly supply Hasan with drugs that he sells to Mustafa in Istanbul,' Kate said. Her primary objective had been to shut down the supply route and break the bank of the terrorists Hirschvogel supplied. The man held a position as a mover and shaker in the black market with drugs and weapons. 'Normally you sell drugs to Hasan, which he transports to Istanbul and sells again.'
'Yes,' Hirschvogel admitted. 'You realize that you can't try me here in the United States for that? I've committed no crime here.'
'I'm sure that's not true,' Kate told him. In fact, she knew it wasn't true. Hirschvogel sold merchandise everywhere there was a market.
'Are you with the government?' Hirschvogel asked.
Jake slapped him again.
