most likely. He crept to a closed door in the hope that it led to a lower floor, but instead found a lounge with French windows opening on to the poolside. ‘Arse,’ Eddie muttered, realising he would have to search the whole house. He went to the other door, seeing a hallway beyond.
He was about to go through when he heard boots clumping on the polished floor. He pulled back, watching through the crack as someone approached. One of the mercenaries . . .
Eddie felt a shock of recognition. Kevin Baine. He hadn’t seen the former SAS man for over nine years. Stikes had obviously remembered him, though – and recruited him.
Baine’s steps faded as he rounded a corner. Eddie entered the hall, heading in the opposite direction. An open door led back into the lounge, so he ignored it, checking that the passage round a corner was empty before proceeding.
A narrow staircase went upwards. A closed door was at its foot. Cellar steps? He reached for the handle—
The door opened.
Eddie found himself face to face – or rather, face to chest – with a huge black-clad man. Another mercenary, a holstered pistol and a stun grenade on his combat webbing. He looked up. Surprised eyes stared down at him through the holes in the balaclava.
He drew back the knife, about to stab the merc in the stomach—
The eyes widened in recognition. ‘Little man!’ said a delighted Russian voice.
Eddie arrested his strike, jerking the blade out of sight behind his back. He knew the voice, but couldn’t believe he was hearing it. ‘Maximov?’
The giant peeled off the balaclava to reveal a bearded, heavily scarred face, the worst injury a gnarled knot of tissue at the centre of his forehead. ‘What are you doing here?’ said Oleg Maximov, grinning at the Englishman.
It was two years since Eddie had last met the huge ex-Spetsnaz soldier, first as a foe, later an uneasy ally during the search for Excalibur. He had then been in the service of a Russian billionaire; that he was here now suggested he had looked further afield for employment. ‘Didn’t Stikes tell you I was coming?’ he said, desperately improvising.
Maximov looked puzzled. ‘No. When did you join company?’
He feigned nonchalance. ‘Oh, I’ve known Stikes for years – we were in the SAS together. I had sort of an open invitation to join 3S, but didn’t get the chance to take it up until recently. I’ve been busy with the IHA – plus getting married, stuff like that.’
‘You finally picked a day? Congratulations!’ Maximov slammed a meaty hand down on Eddie’s shoulder. ‘To the pretty redhead, da? Hey, I saw her on TV. In the Sphinx. What is she doing now?’
So Maximov didn’t know that Nina was here? ‘Archaeological stuff. Kind of boring, which is why I decided to see if old Stikesy had anything exciting on the cards. Got to admit, regime change in Venezuela was more than I was expecting!’
‘Me too,’ said Maximov, nodding. ‘But job is job, money is money, hey?’
‘I know what you mean. Oh,’ he added, sensing an opportunity, ‘can you come with me to talk to President Suarez? That’s why Stikes wanted me here – I’ve, er, met him before, so I might be able to get him to tell me the information Callas needs.’
He knew that the more he elaborated on his story, the more danger there was of falling into a hole – but he also knew that Maximov had not been hired for his brainpower. The name-dropping seemed to have convinced the Russian that he was here legitimately. ‘Okay,’ said the big man, nodding.
‘So,’ Eddie said, stepping back and ushering him into the hallway, ‘what’ve you been doing since the business with Jack Mitchell?’
‘Mitchell?’ Maximov growled as he headed back the way Eddie had come. ‘That little shit, I should have crushed him. What happen to him, anyway?’
‘He’s dead. Very, very dead. Stabbed, electrocuted, drowned, in that order.’
‘Ha! Good. I work a lot in Africa recently. Always little wars, da?’
‘Do you know Strutter?’ Eddie asked, gambling that the small world of the mercenary might provide common ground - and a way to keep Maximov distracted.
‘Strutter, yeah! A zhópa, but I meet Stikes through him, so not all bad.’ They passed the kitchen, the Russian going to another door. ‘Okay, here.’
Eddie decided not to feel too annoyed that he would have found the stairs to the cellar immediately if he had turned right instead of left to begin with, instead following Maximov