you back out. There is a man who arrived in Berlin who is threatening our operation.”
Cool, Hulett thought. More work. “Who is he?”
“We think he is the man you encountered in Caracas the other night. I’m texting you his picture.”
And now the American mercenary stood straighter, began walking back up the hall to his men in the great room.
“Roger that. Where is he?”
“He was picked up on a camera near an operation our European partners are running, just thirty minutes ago. And then, two minutes ago, he was seen again, renting a motorcycle. He then went back in the direction of the operation.”
“Copy all. Tell me where the op is, and give me the description of the man and his bike.”
Omar directed him to Sasani’s neighborhood, Dahlem-Dorf, and gave the make and model of the bike. He then sent a secure text with two pictures of a man in his thirties with shoulder-length hair and a short beard wearing a dark T-shirt and jeans.
“This fucker? This nothing joker is the one who killed my man the other night?”
“Affirmative. We have information that this man is operating alone, but he has extraordinary skill. Use caution.”
“Yeah, well, I’ve got some skill myself, and I’m not operating alone. I’ll take care of this little bitch.”
As soon as he hung up his phone, he rushed back into the living room of the safe house. “Everybody saddle up! We’re about to go get us some payback for Ronnie!”
* * *
• • •
The thirty-nine-year-old blonde checked into the Adlon Kempinski just after three p.m. A corner suite on the fourth floor had been reserved for Xristina Dolyna by her company, a Danish housewares manufacturer, and her Ukrainian passport was in order, so she was quickly handed room keys and escorted to the elevator, while her Gucci bags were loaded onto a luggage cart.
She entered her suite and opened the double windows in the living room. The view of the Brandenburg Gate was spectacular, and she imagined it would only be more majestic at night. In front of the gate, still to her right, the Pariser Platz was an open city block with both concrete and grassy spaces, with the U.S. embassy on her side of the square and the French embassy across the wide concrete plaza.
She looked down on Unter den Linden, lined with taxis in front of the hotel, tables sitting at outside cafés, and restaurants and bars in both directions.
The woman stepped back inside when the bellman knocked. He gently put her two suitcases on racks in the living room of the suite as directed by the Ukrainian guest.
Another knock came minutes after the bellman left. The blonde looked through the peephole, then opened the door.
Russian assassin Semyon Pervak stood in the hall. He wore a camel sport coat and white designer jeans, neither particularly flattering on his bulky frame.
He entered the foyer of the suite, giving barely a glance towards the woman as he passed by, though he did speak to her.
“I can’t find Maksim. He’s not answering his mobile.”
Ukrainian Xristina Dolyna was, in fact, Russian Inna Sorokina, the intelligence officer for the four-man hit squad sent to hunt down Zoya Zakharova.
Sorokina shut the door and followed Pervak inside. She displayed no surprise at Pervak’s inability to track down her team leader; this was par for the course.
Matter-of-factly, she said, “If he is not answering at three in the afternoon, then he is drunk in a bar.”
Pervak said, “I have Anya checking the pub near the safe house, but he could be anywhere.” He shrugged, then pulled off his coat. “Doesn’t matter, we won’t need him till tonight at the earliest.”
“Yes, but when we need him, we will need him sober.”
“Whatever. We will make do.”
Sorokina bit her lip for an instant, then said, “He might not be out drinking at all.”
The middle-aged man looked back at her. Soon he shook his head. “No, Inna. If Maksim is going to kill himself, he won’t do it while on mission. He likes this part of the life. It will be during the downtime when he puts his gun in his mouth. We go another six weeks without a job after this, and we’ll find him floating in a river, but as long as there is work, there will be Maksim.”
Pervak turned away from her, looked out at the view from the windows of the living room.
He wanted to drop the subject, it was clear, but Inna said, “You do know how this ends, don’t you?