were scattered all across the Green Zone.
He watched for a full five minutes as cars and cabs came and went, spotting a pair of men stationed in the driveway leading to the hotel’s entrance, and another pair on the opposite side for vehicles leaving. Dressed in the near standard contractor’s uniform of jeans, dark shirts, and Kevlar vests with a lot of pockets, they were waiting for Weiss to show up, presumably with his passenger, and their orders were to take out both of them.
It was a little risky to stage a shoot-out these days, but before the cops showed up they would probably plant some explosives in the car. They were simply doing their jobs, protecting the hotel from suicide bombers.
McGarvey moved back until he was clear, then ran down the street, keeping to the shadows as much as possible, until he found a service driveway that led to the rear of the hotel.
When he was out of sight of anyone on the road, he took out his pistol and screwed the silencer onto the end of the barrel.
Sandberger eased the door open and looked out into the corridor. Alphonse leaned against the wall a few feet from the elevator, which meant that Hanson was just around the corner from the east stairway door.
“Keep on your toes,” he told his bodyguards. “If McGarvey’s going to show tonight, it’ll be within the next half hour, or less.”
Alphonse nodded, and Sandberger closed his door, keeping it slightly ajar with a book of paper matches. He went across to the sliding door that led onto the small balcony and opened it. The cool evening air with the sounds of traffic and the smells unique to Baghdad—rotting garbage, diesel fumes, and a hint of cordite—were immediately there.
Before he switched off the lights he removed the silenced Sterling submachine gun’s thirty-four-round box magazine, checked one last time that it was full, and slammed it back home. The unique weapon, which used nonsubsonic 9×19 mm Parabellum ammunition, had been used by British special forces, including the SAS. It had been one of Remington’s suggestions that Admin’s people might find the weapon handy in special circumstances.
Like now, Sandberger thought as he waited half inside and half outside the slider.
McGarvey was good, if even half of what he’d heard was true. He had gotten past Kangas and Mustapha, and had somehow gotten the drop on Weiss. However unlikely it might be, it was possible he would get past the four men watching the driveway, and perhaps even Alphonse and Hanson up here.
But anyone coming through the door would take the full thirty-four rounds. Survival this up close and personal would be impossible.
A delivery van was backed up to the loading dock and an older man in Arab dress was pulling out plastic flats filled with bundles of cut flowers and carrying them inside through the open roll-up door.
McGarvey waited until the florist went inside, then ran around to the end of the loading dock and ducked down in the shadows in the corner. Five minutes later the man came out, closed the delivery van’s doors, and left.
As soon as the van was out of sight, McGarvey jumped up on the delivery dock and peered around the corner into the receiving area, where all the supplies for the hotel were received and processed. Two men were directly across a fairly large space where they were loading the flats onto a pair of hand trucks. When they were finished they pushed the carts off to the left where they boarded a service elevator.
When the doors had closed McGarvey hurried after them, and waited, until the car stopped at the lobby level. Sandberger’s suite was on the eighth floor. He would have people watching the stairwell doors and the guest elevators. But he might have overlooked the service elevators, which the maids, room service people, and maintenance crew used.
McGarvey brought the elevator down then hit the button for the eighth floor. He suspected that the doors would open not onto the main corridor but onto a service corridor, and when the car reached the eighth floor he was proven right. This corridor, which ran the length of the hotel along the rear walls of the rooms, was unpainted concrete walls and floors, with minimal lighting from basic ceiling fixtures.
Several doors opened onto the main guest corridor, one at each end opposite the emergency exits, and one at the vending machine alcove.
McGarvey went to the west emergency door and examined the