and scooped it up. It was a Russian-made Yarygin MP-443 pistol. He checked the load: seventeen 9 mm rounds in the magazine. He tucked it into the front of his waistband. He didn’t plan to use it, but it was of infinitely more use in his possession than left on the floor.
Francesca still stood in the same spot as he had left her. She watched him, but her eyes were focused on the middle distance. He retrieved the raincoat and put it back on. He took Francesca’s hand. Her palm was cool and clammy.
‘It’s time to go.’
‘Okay.’
A sound outside the door gave Victor a second’s warning and he snapped up the Yarygin so that when the door opened the two SVR security guys walked straight into the line of fire. They were dressed in tuxedos like the unconscious man with red hair. Victor recognised one from the music room, but not the second. He must have been patrolling elsewhere.
‘Hands above your shoulders.’ They did as instructed. ‘You on the left, kick the door closed behind you. Don’t turn around.’ He complied. ‘Now, with your left hand and using just your thumb and forefinger, take the gun from your colleague’s belt holster and drop it at your feet.’ He struggled to remove the pistol from the holster, but managed it after a few seconds. It thunked on the carpet. ‘Get your hand back in the air and kick the gun my way.’ It skidded across the floor and stopped half a metre from Victor’s toes. He stepped forward and kicked it to the other side of the room. ‘You on the right, do exactly the same as your friend.’
When the second gun had joined the first at the far end of the office, Victor approached his two captives. Stopping a metre before them, he stared hard into the eyes of the one on the right, then pistol-whipped the man on the left on the jaw while he was focused on what Victor might do to his colleague, and backhanded the gun into the temple of man to his right before he could react to the surprise attack.
They both dropped, unconscious.
He tore away their radios and crushed them beneath his heel, one after the other. Then he grabbed Francesca’s hand and led her out of the door.
SIXTY
The corridor outside the office was quiet and empty. Victor led Francesca down it and pulled aside the temporary rope barrier so they could pass into the hallway that led to the foyer. He didn’t know how long he had until the three SVR guys came round, but he didn’t need long to get out of the embassy. How far he would get outside before the alarm was raised was unknown. He would have a few minutes, maybe five or six. Whether that was enough time was out of his hands. He could have killed the three men to ensure a decent head start but he didn’t want to give the SVR any further incentive to come after him. And the three had only been doing their job.
He walked at a casual pace down the hallway, Francesca at his side, even though his instincts told him to run. But the precious few seconds gained by hurrying now would be lost tenfold if the alarm was raised before it needed to be. Up ahead he saw the two cloakroom attendants chatting; all the guests had arrived by now and no one was likely to leave before the speech. The two guards at the front door were similarly without anything to do, but they weren’t chatting.
They were alert as they had been before. He couldn’t determined if there was an additional layer to that alertness created by the SVR guy with the red hair putting out a notification that he had a suspicious individual in custody. That notification might have gone to all security personnel, or just to the other undercover SVR operatives at the embassy. These guys were regular security guards. Competent, because they were stationed at the front door of the Russian embassy, but not trained to the same level as SVR employees and perhaps not privy to the same information.
Both guards looked Victor’s way. Until the three unconscious operatives woke up, they couldn’t have much to go on. Maybe they had his description or were reacting to everyone with caution and suspicion until they were given the all clear. Alternatively, they knew nothing and were just looking at Francesca.