"I'm just saying I don't work with backups if I don't know about them."
"What backups?"
Ambler studied Fenton's features for any flicker of dissembling, for the faintest twitch of tension. There was none whatever. "And as for the Chinese gentleman ..."
"What Chinese gentleman?" Fenton interjected blandly.
Ambler paused. "You have no idea what I'm talking about, do you?" he said at last.
"Afraid not," Fenton said. "Was there someone else at your rendezvous, Tarquin? Something I need to be worried about? If you've got any reason to suspect a security lapse, I need to know."
"Believe you, if I had, you'd be the first to hear," the American operative replied smoothly. "No, nothing like that. I appreciate your need to have observers in position."
"But that's standard protocol," Fenton protested.
"Not a problem. In Stab operations, I usually knew the full complement, but that was then. Forgive an old jungle cat for being on edge. Really, it's nothing to be concerned about."
"Good," Fenton said. His success had come from his capacity for narrow-bore focus-which meant he would not be distracted by details he could deem irrelevant. "I was worried about you for a moment. But you've lived up to your reputation. I'm very pleased. You did the job, did it swiftly and cleanly. Showed resourcefulness, swiftness, top-notch decision-making skills. Executive caliber. Fact is, I think you've got a future in my inner circle. Top of the org chart. Mind you, there are no desk jockeys at SSG. The people who have a bird's-eye view of everything have got to be raptors themselves. That's my philosophy." He stopped, raised a hand. "But I haven't forgotten our conversation outside the Palais des Congres. There was stuff you wanted to find out. I'd told you that you had powerful enemies and powerful friends, and it seems I was right. I spoke to my principal partner at State."
"And?"
"Clearly there's a story to be told, but they won't tell it to me. A matter of information partition-which is fine, I can respect that. Good news is, the principal has agreed to a face-to-face meeting with you, promises to fill you in completely. We'll schedule it soon as we can. Maybe even here."
"Who's the principal?"
"I promised not to say. Not yet. One thing you'll learn about me, Tarquin, is that I'm a man of my word."
"And I'm holding you to it," Ambler snapped. "Dammit, Fenton-I told you I was to be paid with knowledge.
You think you can fob off a check's-in-the-mail excuse like that?"
Fenton's ruddy face colored further. "It's not like that, Tarquin," he said steadily. "My partner very much wants to meet you. All the more now. That's going to happen within a matter of days. And it's not like you're going to be cooling your heels in the meantime. I know that an operative like you must be eager to get back to work. At this point, there's no assignment I wouldn't entrust you with. Not a lot in this world that's good as advertised. But you are, Tarquin. You are."
"What can I say?" Ambler replied neutrally.
Ariadne's thread find where it leads.
"Got a real exciting project for you coming up. But don't pack your skis just yet. There's just one more assignment we've got for you here."
"One more?"
"A man who really needs killing," Fenton said. "Apologies for being so plainspoken. But this one's going to be tricky."
"Tricky," the operative echoed.
"Tell you what else, a Cons Ops 'beyond salvage' order has already gone out on this guy. They're put their in-house best on it. But when the rubber hits the road, they still come to me. Because they can't leave anything to chance. You bring in Fenton, you're guaranteed of results. So now I'm putting my best on it-and that means you."
"Tell me more about the target."
"We're talking about somebody with top-notch skills and training. A high-flying covert-ops ace gone bad."
"Sounds like trouble."
"You bet. About the worst thing that can happen."
"Who?" Ambler asked simply.
"A sociopath who happens to have reams of government intel in his head, because of his experience in the field and in the office." Fenton had a look of grave concern. "Firsthand knowledge of all kinds of government secrets, pass codes, operational procedures, you name it. And he's out of his mind.
Every day this guy draws breath is a day his country is at risk."
"Thanks for narrowing it down. But I'll need to start with a name."
"Of course," Fenton said. "The target's name is Harrison Ambler."
The operative blanched.
Fenton raised an eyebrow. "You know him?"
Ambler struggled to breathe normally.