Hirschvogel cursed, but tears of pain coursed down his cheeks.
'Where did you get the weapons?' Kate asked.
'American military shipments in Turkey,' Hirschvogel said. 'A recent resupply. I arranged for it to go missing.'
'Not without help.'
Hirschvogel shrugged. 'I have some contacts within the army's civilian support agencies. I knew when the shipment would arrive by truck. I had a team take the weapons.'
Kate hadn't heard anything about that, but no one liked admitting he'd been made a fool of. The United States military had their own investigative bodies. She made a mental note to go through channels and contact the army's criminal-investigative division regarding the stolen shipment.
'Why did you sell them to Hasan?' she asked.
'I'd heard Mustafa was looking for weapons. Particularly American weapons.'
'Why?'
Hirschvogel glanced at Jake and flinched as he answered. 'I don't know.'
Jake didn't move.
'He believes you,' Kate said. 'So do I. But I'm going to need to know who your contacts were in the military.'
Hirschvogel scowled. The side of his face still glowed red from the slaps. 'Those contacts have proven very expensive.'
'And profitable,' Kate said.
'Perhaps we could negotiate.'
'All right.' Kate folded her arms. 'Give me the names of the men who helped you arrange the theft, and I won't let my friend throw you over the balcony.'
Defeated, Hirschvogel gave her the names.
When he was finished, Kate nodded at Jake.
He took a spray from his pocket and squirted it into Hirschvogel's face. The German tried not to breathe, obviously afraid of being poisoned, but the spray worked on mere contact, as well. He fought the effects of the drug, then his head slumped forward.
'Personally I think it would be better if I dropped him over the balcony,' Jake said. 'Guy like this, he's gonna be a problem somewhere down the line.'
'No,' Kate said. 'We'll let him run and keep a leash on him. Taking out Hasan and Mustafa will help shut down his organization, but there's still a lot of information we can discover.'
She looked around the apartment to make sure they hadn't left anything behind. Both of them were too professional for that. But always checking was part of being professional.
'Indigo, are we clear?' Kate asked.
'Affirmative. We show you clear.'
Kate left the apartment and headed for the elevator.
'What's being done with the young woman driving the truck?' Jake asked.
'For the moment,' Kate said, 'we're going to let her run.'
'One of Red Team's snipers could take her out. Even on the fly. Don't have to kill her.'
'She's MI-6. We have to check and see if they've got a play in place.'
'I'm thinking grabbing everybody at the buy would have been a good strategy,' Jake said.
'That's where I would have done it,' Kate agreed.
'MI-6 doesn't always get it right,' Jake commented.
'Nobody does. That's why they have us.'
Jake chuckled. 'They have us when they want to take the gloves off and throw the rulebook out the window.'
Kate smiled.
'So what if everything's snafued in Istanbul?' Jake asked.
'We improvise.'
9
Desperate, Ajza ran through her options. If she drove the truck where Mustafa wanted it, she'd know where it was for a while, but she didn't doubt that the weapons would be quickly moved. Or she could depend on her support team suddenly materializing and getting her out of the current situation. But it didn't seem like that was about to happen.
She was sweltering in the growing heat of the day and had to work hard to keep the truck headed straight. The steering had a lot of play, which necessitated constant attention.
She didn't like the possibility of parking the weapons somewhere and losing them. The question of who was going to be using them and for what purpose never left her mind. Over the past few years she'd seen firsthand the kind of carnage left by al-Qaeda and other terrorists.
'I could have driven the truck,' Fikret complained from the passenger side.
Ajza looked around and got her bearings. She was only a few blocks from the harbor. A desperate plan formed in her mind.
'All I needed was another chance,' Fikret went on. He glared at Ajza. 'There's nothing you can do that I can't.'
Traffic came to a halt. Ajza studied the cross street ahead. It was one of the major ones. She was certain the harbor area was nearly a straight shot down it. At least, as straight a shot as the streets of the old city allowed.
'You should not have volunteered,' Fikret said. 'You only did so to make me look bad.'
Ajza couldn't be quiet any longer. 'If you could have driven the truck, you would not have looked bad. If you had not volunteered, you would not have looked bad. You brought this on yourself.'
'I could have driven the truck. I only needed a little more time to figure out how to do it better.'
Slowly traffic started forward again. The sedan she was following powered through the intersection.
Gripping the wheel, knowing her next action would put her life on the line, Ajza turned right and jammed her foot down hard on the accelerator. The truck responded immediately. She swung out wide around the corner and momentarily crossed bumpers with a panel truck waiting in the oncoming lane. Metal grated as she broke free and kept going.
'What are you doing?' Fikret demanded. He held on to the door. 'You weren't supposed to turn.'
Ajza straightened the wheels and sped down the street. The heavy traffic looked problematic. She shifted gears and gained speed. A taxi stopped in front of her to pick up a fare. Ajza pulled to the left and narrowly avoided it. The truck's bumper scraped the side of a car, setting off a cascade of car horns.
'Stop!' Fikret roared. 'Stop the truck now!' He reached for the steering wheel.
Ajza grabbed the pistol from under her thigh and clubbed the big man in the face with it. Blood spouted from his nose and he drew back, cursing in pain and anger.
'Get out,' Ajza commanded. She pointed the pistol at him.
'What?'
'Get out of the truck.' Ajza glanced in the side mirrors and saw that the rest of the convoy were hot on her heels. They closed the gap rapidly.
Fikret didn't move. He had one massive hand clamped to his nose. He reached for his rifle with the other.
Ajza fired her pistol and missed the big man's head by inches. The bullet slammed into a building at the side of the street.
'Get out!' she shouted over the ringing din of the pistol report. 'Or I put the next one through your head.'
Fikret swung the door open and turned to leap out. Fear held him frozen.
Ajza turned in the seat, raised a leg and shoved her foot hard between Fikret's shoulder blades. He grunted as
