of the blade up an inch.
Belyakov screamed.
Court didn’t think he’d done much more than break the skin with the knife, but he also didn’t want to look at the man’s exposed balls to check.
Belyakov was totally his now. The man shouted, “Mars! David Mars!”
“David Mars,” Court repeated. His name was on the list from Cassidy’s vault. He asked, “And what is he planning, Vlad?”
“I truly do not know.” Court thought that was all he was going to get out of the man, but slowly the terrified prisoner looked up, locking eyes with him. “But whatever it is, it does not have Moscow sanction.”
“How do you know that?”
“He doesn’t get orders from Moscow. He runs anti-Western operations here, keeps things deniable for the boys at the Kremlin. But . . .”
Court cocked his head. “But what?”
“But he changed when he thought his daughter had been killed. I know he is planning some sort of retributive strike against the West. His wife, son, and daughter all were killed by England or the U.S. When his daughter showed up I thought he might just call off his plan, but he’s bent. The wheels were already in motion, plus he sees his daughter defecting to the Americans to be much worse than death.”
Retributive strike. Court said it to himself. In Scotland.
Court pulled out his phone. “Your lucky day, Belyakov. You get to keep your life and both your huevos.”
He left the room as he dialed Brewer’s number.
CHAPTER 45
The Bombardier Global 7000 was the largest executive jet in the world; this particular model, owned by the CIA, had seating for twenty, and at present there were fifteen on the aircraft in addition to a crew of four.
Most of the passengers were clustered in captain’s chairs and sofas near the front, but Director Fred Capshaw sat alone in one of two small offices in the back of the plane, looking out the window at the Atlantic Ocean forty thousand feet below him.
Matt Hanley appeared in front of the director, Capshaw motioned to the chair opposite him, and the deputy director of Operations took a seat in the tiny room.
Hanley said, “You wanted to talk?”
Capshaw was from Kentucky, and had an accent to match. “I do.” Now the older man looked out the window a moment more, seemingly collecting his thoughts. “It was just months ago when your predecessor sat in front of me and I gave him a version of the talk I’m about to give you. As you know, within a couple of weeks, you had replaced him.”
“Am I being replaced, sir?”
Capshaw moved around in his chair uncomfortably for a moment, as if trying to find a position that didn’t hurt his back. Finally he said, “Matthew, you came into the DDO position like a bull in a china shop. I let things go, because your predecessor ran Operations like it was his own private army. The department needed an enema, and you sure as shit gave it one.”
Hanley didn’t know if he was supposed to say thank you, so he just nodded.
“But here we are, four or five months after you took the DDO desk, and I am beginning to harbor concerns about your decision-making abilities and your unaccountability.”
“I am completely accountable, Mr. Director. Accountable to you.”
“I told you on day one, son, that I was going to give you unusual latitude to conduct your work as you see fit. But a horse can take loose reins to mean his rider isn’t paying attention.”
“I always assume you are paying attention, and you know everything that you need, and want, to know.”
“I don’t know what’s happening in your special programs.”
“I could fill you in, sir,” Hanley said, and this line was received as he’d expected.
“Don’t get cute with me, Matthew. You know I need to be insulated from sub rosa activities. You and I can have a verbal agreement that I’ve loosened up your sanction, and you can take that to mean, within reason, that I’m okay with you doing what you think is right. But when the light of day finds your dirty work, then it becomes a problem that must be rectified.”
“I understand.”
Director Capshaw said, “Matt . . . I’ve given you enough rope to hang yourself with, and it appears that’s exactly what you’re doing right now.”
“Sub rosa ops are always difficult, but the potential rewards outweigh the risks. We’ve got a lot of moving parts, and yes, some problems right now, but I will take care of everything.”
Capshaw didn’t seem to