not sure what they know about Lucy. Whether they know she was in the Regiment or not, I couldn’t say.”
“They know she’s important to you, though?”
“Looks like it. And they could have got that from Gurney.”
“So you’re about to put yourself back in the firing line?” said Bennett.
“We’ll see.”
They drew away from the lights, Bennett cruising through the gears, the hospital just moments away now. “Okay, so let me get this straight. Dmitry said something that made you think he was going to snatch Lucy? In other words, he revealed his intel? Why would he do that, do you think, Shelley? Why let you know his game plan?”
“He didn’t . . .”
“Not directly, but he dropped a massive fuck-off hint, didn’t he? He led you to believe it, and you drew exactly the conclusion he wanted you to draw. Which means that by racing over there right now, we’re doing precisely what he wants us to do, Shelley. I say ‘we.’ I mean you, my friend. You’re playing right into his hands. Just remind me, if you would: is that what we recommend in the forces, playing right into the enemy’s hands?”
Shelley knew it, always had done. He took a deep breath. “I know, but look, this morning, after the crash at the gates, when you thought Johnson might still be alive, you approached the car even though there was a greater-than-average possibility that the car might be booby-trapped. You remember that?”
“Of course,” conceded Bennett.
“At the time I thought it was a dick move. Stupid and reckless. But the thing is, even though I didn’t approve of it, I understood it. I knew why you had to go out there, even though tactically it was the wrong thing to do.” And besides, this is Lucy we’re talking about.
“Even so, Shelley,” sighed Bennett, “I’m not sure I can stand by and watch you do this.”
“Put it this way: you don’t have any choice.”
“Why did I have a feeling you were going to say that?” said Bennett ruefully. He shifted down and floored it, a statement of intent that gave Shelley hope as the city streets flashed past.
CHAPTER 72
SERGEI DROVE THE black Transit, Dmitry at his side with the phone clamped to his ear. His man Bogdan, dispatched to follow Shelley on the trains, had gone offline, much to his irritation. But Albert and Boris, sent to the hospital? Ah, now that was a very different situation indeed.
He came off the phone. “Albert and Boris have the girl,” he told Sergei.
“It is fortunate that they were able to mobilize so quickly, Dmitry,” replied Sergei.
Dmitry glanced into the rear of the van, where just one of their men, the Ukrainian, Wladimir, sat silently. He was big and blond and—though known to be a little squeamish when it came to the sight of blood—a man you would want by your side in a fight.
This night had taken its toll on them as an organization. Dmitry looked across at Sergei. “An interesting evening for us, Sergei,” he said, part statement, part question.
“Indeed, Dmitry.”
“We have at least managed to sort a few things out.”
“Indeed, Dmitry,” said Sergei. He checked the satnav suction-cupped to the windshield. The Chelsea and Westminster Hospital was just a short distance away now.
Dmitry reached into the front of his jeans, drew his pistol, and exhaled as though it had been digging into him. He held it in his lap. “Sergei,” he said with a mildly quizzical tone, “tell me, were you ever tempted to join with Karen?”
Sergei gave a small chuckle. “Certainly not, Dmitry. As you are aware, I came to you the second that her treachery became apparent.”
“You did, Sergei,” nodded Dmitry, “you did. And for that, you know that you have my eternal gratitude. Who knows? With a less conscientious and loyal lieutenant, perhaps her plan for takeover might even have succeeded.”
“Perhaps,” said Sergei.
“But of course you knew what she could not have known, which is that our friends in Grozny have been tiring of our association with the Regan family. You above all knew that forming an alliance with Karen Regan was suicide.”
Sergei’s jaw tightened. “Are you suggesting to me that I exposed the traitor merely out of self-preservation and nothing else, Dmitry?” He sounded genuinely hurt. “Does our friendship mean nothing?”
Dmitry threw back his head and laughed. “You made the right decision, Sergei, that is the important thing,” he said. “You may be sure that you will be well rewarded for your loyalty tonight. We all will be. Twenty million in