'Look, I needed to do it so that when the source if he existed got a look at the data, he would have to inform Bin Laden that everything was OK, nothing had been compromised.
That way, not only did it confirm he existed, but meant that perhaps he could be tracked down. Whoever sent you here will not know everything, Nick.'
There was a lull. I knew she was waiting for me to ask another question.
I patted my arm with a hand towel, turned and leaned back against the sink. I looked at her, two feet away.
'We should have been told there was a change of plan once on the ground. You fucked a job up that killed Glen' She looked at me, confused.
'Reg Three, remember?'
There was no reaction in her face.
'Yes, of course. I'm sorry about that.' I knew she really didn't give a shit about Glen. Come to think of it, nor did I anymore. It was a long time ago. Even in the Regiment he would have been long forgotten, apart from by his family and a few close friends on Remembrance Day. His wife would probably have married another member of the Regiment and would be getting on with her life.
I got back into the present.
'So why are you in the shit about all this, if it was part of the job?'
She looked at me with her small-child-in-trouble face.
'That's the problem.' She hesitated.
'They didn't know. I thought that if no one was aware there would be no leaks.' She was starting to look depressed, as you would if you'd severely fucked up.
'In fact, it was a cock-up from start to finish. The FBI confirmed shortly afterward that the source did exist. They call him Yousef, but they didn't know at what level of the NSC he was. I decided not to tell them about anything I was doing. In fact, they don't even know about what I was doing at the lake.'
It was all making sense now. It was so typical of Sarah to be going it alone, hoping to collect all the Brownie points and smooth her way up another rung of the career ladder.
'So now you want me to help you get out of your fuckup.' I couldn't help smiling. Actually, it felt good.
'I couldn't tell anyone, Nick. If I had, the whole thing might have been compromised. I wouldn't couldn't risk it.' But she was risking it with me. That also felt very good, which was making things even more difficult for me.
She turned back toward the bed, sat down and hit the 'off' button on the TV remote control, knees drawn up and her arms around them, counting the number of piles there were per square inch of carpet.
'The problem is, Nick, I still don't know the identity of the source no one does.
No matter how I did it, that has been the aim of this last four years: to find him, and to force the whole network down.'
She had finished with the carpet and turned back to me as I continued to tend my arm.
'The two others who were arriving at the lake today are the only ones here in the U.S. who know who he is. I've met them only once. I don't know their names, contact details, nothing. But my plan was to play along with the hit, and get them lifted I wasn't quite sure how.
But once we had those two, we'd get the source as well. It won't stop at Netanyahu and Arafat, unless we can neutralize the top man.'
She brushed back her hair with her fingers as it was drying. My breathing was very slow and heavy as I tried to think of questions to help me feel right about what I was thinking.
'Nick, you are the only ' The phone rang. Sarah jumped up and started to throw her things on, picking up her weapon and checking the chamber. With her jeans halfway up her legs, she pulled the curtain slightly to see outside. She shook her head. I picked up the phone. She carried on dressing.
It was reception; we exchanged a few words and I replaced the receiver.
'It's the car. Take everything, get into the shower room and wait.' She picked up the rest of her clothes, towels and bag and took them with her. I put my jacket back on to hide the wound and the fact that my shirtsleeves were missing and changed channel, checking it wasn't on a news program.
I turned up the volume to cover Sarah.
There was a knock on the door. As I walked across the room, even I couldn't help noticing how dank the room smelled. I looked through the spy hole It was a young black guy wearing a blue T-shirt. He had all the forms on a clipboard under his left arm, and a runner for the credit card in his hand.
I sat down with him on the bed to fill out the forms. Showing my driving license was always a bit of fun, as most people outside the U.K. don't have a clue what they're looking at a damp piece of pink paper that says nothing much at all, and doesn't even have a picture. He was turning the page over for the details he needed, trying to appear as if he knew what he was about. I couldn't bear to see him in pain.
'The number's there.' He smiled at me in relief.
As he got up, I could see him trying to work out the smell. I laughed.
'We were using a friend's car for our holiday. It broke down last night in the middle of nowhere.'
He nodded, not really caring. When he left, Sarah came out of the bathroom, taking her jeans off again to dry.
If she were telling the truth, maybe I would take her back to London.
The problem was that although I hardly knew where I was with Sarah, I did with Lynn and Elizabeth. It might be G&Ts at seven, dinner at eight for them, but if I didn't carry out my job they would fuck me over big time, maybe even organize my own personal T104. I needed more information from Sarah; the fact that she'd killed the American gave me a pretty clear idea of whose side she was on, but I needed solid evidence. I sat on the bed as she finished undressing and put her clothes back on the heater.
'When are they going to do the hit?'
She came and sat next to me. She looked up at me with excitement, then her face changed.
'You still don't believe me, do you, you bastard?'
She gripped my arm with her hand.
'You must help me. I'm the only one who can identify the two who are left, and I know them, Nick. They won't rest until they've finished the job.' She stared at me. I didn't answer; I knew she was going to continue.
'What are we here for, Nick? How will you look at yourself in the mirror if you don't help me to stop it?'
Mr. Spock would have been proud of her. The emotional stuff didn't work too much for me, but the story did sound logical. But she'd already fucked me over once, and looking at myself in the mirror had never been high on my list of priorities.
I got to my feet and went toward the door.
'I'm going for a cruise around to see if I can get us some clothes. What size are you?'
'Eight U.S.' shoes six. Why don't I just come with you?'
'They're looking for a couple now. They may even have a video grab from the gas station. Sit here, I'll be back.'
Out in the corridor, I closed the door behind me but didn't walk away immediately. Ripping two matches from the book I'd picked up I wedged them between the door and the frame, one a foot above the lock, one below.
I heard the locks being closed from the inside as I went downstairs.
The rain came down in a constant drizzle as I got into the car, a red Saturn, and turned over the ignition. The heater blew at its highest setting, the radio blared and the windshield wipers thrashed from side to side. The urgent bing bing bing told me to put my seat belt on. I did, inhaling the new car smell, put it into drive and headed for the road.
In case she was watching, I drove out of her line of sight before going around the back of the motel, crossing over the main drag and parking up in the lot for Arby's, a hot sandwich shop. Looking through the power, telephone and stop-sign lines that hung above the main drag I now had a trigger on the motel door; I'd even be able to see where she walked to, as I had the stairs and ground floor in view. If she did something that showed she was lying, at least I'd know, and then I'd have control again. Plus, I could see if the police turned up. What Sarah was going to do once that happened I didn't know, and I wouldn't wait to see. If she followed her usual pattern, she would probably kill a couple of them and hopefully get killed herself. It was a risk, not keeping her with me, but worth it. Besides, there was something I had to do alone.
