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Authors: Chris Ryan

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BOOK: The Hit List
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The Hit List

the humiliation of the 1985 Rainbow Warrior affair, when Alain Mafart and Dominique Prieur - both DGSE agents -- were convicted of manslaughter after the bombing and sinking of the Greenpeace ship m Auckland harbour. If any of the Cadre were arrested on French soil and convicted of murder or conspiracy to murder, they could expect to serve very long jail terms indeed - no matter what the political justification.

Slater was also increasingly conscious of the fact that he was about to spend the night in a hotel bedroom with Eve. They had joked about the charade of their being a bookish couple, but not with quite as much hilarity as, they might have done. Was it his imagination, or had there been a tiny edge of regret in her voice that life was as it was? That the whole thing was an act? That they were not players in some Tom Hanks and Meg Ryan-style romantic comedy, but in a grim game of death - of covert slaughter and counter slaughter.

That they were able to relax and enjoy themselves after a day like today was extraordinary in itself, Slater thought, and showed perhaps just how deformed their sensibilities had become. Had his part in the death of Antoine Fanon-Khayat helped prevent another round of Balkan tortures and executions? Or had he merely contributed to a squalid murder whose principal motivation was the desire to save political face? Would the Serbs simply go to the next dealer for their antiaircraft system?

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sless to wonder, he decided, watching the way i the light fell on Eve's hair and painted the soft line cheekbone. She was wearing a dove^coloured ere sweater and skirt, and the muted tones subtly lighted the sea-grey of her eyes. There was obvious about her appearance, he thought, that jumped out and grabbed you in the way lit did with, say, Grace Litvinoff. at you wondered. You looked at her and you jered if you'd ever quite get the measure of her, quite get the measure of that distant gaze. There self-discipline and a quiet symmetry there that he admitted to himself- very attractive indeed, r would it be like to disrupt that cool poise, to see >1 thrown to the four winds, to hear her . . . 3u've gone very quiet,' said Eve. er smiled. 'I'm just. . . enjoying myself,' he said, held his gaze for a moment, delivered her e smile, and looked away, terwards they had drinks in the bar. At 11pm Eve ic to call Leon for his suggestions concerning the of Fanon-Khayat. The original plan had been to leave him dead in the apartment and fthat the DGSE would clean up the mess. Despite :t that it was self-evidendy the case, the French iment were acutely sensitive to suggestions that military establishment was overwhelmingly pro and anti-Muslim. Any evidence that Issylic's Ondine system was heading for Belgrade be covered up and deleted whatever the cost.

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Nothing would have linked the Cadre to FanonKhayat's death.

But now the Cadre had a problem. Because Slater, Andreas and Eve had been seen in the same hotel as Fanon-Khayat, and Slater and Andreas had physically handled him before and after his death, FanonKhayat had to disappear completely. If his body was discovered and submitted to any kind of forensic examination, there was a risk -- a slight risk, but a risk nevertheless -- that the trail would lead back, sooner or later, to the three of them. The hotel guests and staff would be questioned, photofit portraits would be made, and a connection established. This must not happen. The dead man, the Cadre members all agreed, had to vanish from the face of the earth. Leon had told Eve that he was going to ask Manderson to send a cleaner team to spirit the body back to England, but Eve doubted that Manderson would sanction such an exercise. Taking bodies over borders was risky, and he would almost certainly order them to take care of the disposal themselves. They were on the spot, after all, and they had the expertise.

Either way, the job had to be done fast: Branca would soon be asking questions about her husband's failure to contact her, and in this weather it wouldn't be long before the body began to smell.

Leon was working on a solution.

At five to eleven, Eve left the two men in the bar and took the lift up to the ninth floor.

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|f It must be hard for her,' Slater said, when she had

ppeared. l^hat must?' asked Andreas.

fell, everything. Following on from Ellis, like she And being in charge of a bunch of head-bangers is.'

te didn't actually follow on from Ellis in quite the ' she suggested,' said Andreas. 'Eve joined after Ellis mi. killed, but she didn't step into Ellis's shoes. Ellis |,like us - a footsoldier, one of the lads -- but Eve ifest-track from day one. She's been given more jnsibility with each operation, and my guess is that can pull off Firewall and get us all back in one , Manderson will hand the Cadre over to her.' me about the guy I replaced,' said Slater, ie?' said Andreas. 'He was SBS. A couple of | guys were pulled in about ten years ago for some big, super-sensitive operation - presumably ; at sea. One left before I joined - went off to some Pacific island, I think -- and Bernie stuck until a few months ago. He ended up going too, bought into a boat-building firm in ay. He was one of those mystical types - id-yard stare, dreams of the Far North and all . good guy to have at your side if things came on serious, and played his hand very close to his , I can't say I ever got to know him very well. The Iperson who did, in fact, was Ellis, who used to ie piss out of him. If he got heavy, she just used i at him -- which I tell you is more than I would

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have dared do. But because she was Ellis, she got away with it.'

'What did she look like, Ellis?' Slater asked.

Andreas shrugged. 'Dark hair, prettyish, quite scruffy . . . Like Eve said, she always used to wear this old leather jacket with her handgun in one inside pocket and a couple of spare clips in the other. She always used a nine-mil Clock Seventeen, and I've noticed that Eve now carries exactly the same weapon.'

'She knows how to use it, too.'

'She does. And it meant a lot to her that you praised her for that, by the way. Stand you in good stead after lights out, I expect.'

'I'm not daft,' said Slater. 'I wouldn't try anything on with her.'

'You fucking are and you fucking would. I know you of old.'

'I've changed,' Slater protested. 'I've grown up.'

'The great cry of blokes down the centuries?' Andreas smiled. 'I've changed! I've grown up!'

At 11.30 the three of them met in FanonKhayat's room on the fourth floor. The plan was simple: Andreas was to wait until the reception was at its busiest, pay for his stay with one of the dead man's credit cards, take a taxi to the airport, and then double back to Central Paris and the OP on a shuttle bus. Neil and Eve, meanwhile, were to check out, load the trunk into the car, make as if they were heading for the airport, and

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in their turn double back to the OP. There, Leon take them through the body-disposal plan. This not yet finalised in every detail, but the basic ents had been decided on. The body was to be ered unrecognisable and then sunk in a lonely of the river Seine, some distance outside Paris. i job would almost certainly be carried out under of darkness the following night, order to give Eve some privacy in the room, said he would stay and have a last drink with They raided the mini-bar, and had a malt ' each. But they had run out of things to say, and end they sat in silence, staring out of the floor filing window at the crawl of traffic on the ray and the city of light that was Charles de Sle airport.

aess I should practise the signature on that credit Andreas said eventually, and Slater nodded.

irritation, Slater discovered that his heart was ting as the lift carried him up to the ninth floor, would probably, he thought, be some slightly ('negotiation about who slept where. The simplest ; would be if he just crashed out on the floor. A �-bag would come in handy -- but would it be y tasteless to borrow one of those presently jding Antoine FanonKhayat? |e lift halted with a soft gasp and Slater felt for the ave had it; was he going to have to knock like f old-fashioned corridor-creeping seducer?

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He was. Sensibly, given that there was a dead man stuffed into a trunk at the foot of the bed, she had not left the door on the latch.

He knocked. She answered in French.

'Eve!' he said. 'It's me. Neil.'

The door opened on the chain and then - as soon as she had identified him - fully. She was wearing a pale blue T-shirt, and had a white hotel towel round her waist. She looked scrubbed, clean and younger than the twenty-nine years that her passport claimed for her. He looked at her for a moment and then came in.

Carefully, she doubled-locked the door behind him, then turned off the main light, leaving only a bedside lamp illuminated.

'You take the bed,' he said. Til grab a couple of blankets and hit the floor.'

She nodded absently, staring beyond him as if not quite hearing what he was saying. He looked down at her short fair hair, the neat line of her shoulders, the fading brown of her arms. Then her gaze rose to meet his.

Impossible to say which of them reached for the other first, but they were suddenly and urgently devouring each other. He felt her hands in his hair and her mouth moving beneath his, and then his own hands found her waist and the warm sweep of her back. He kissed her mouth, her eyes, her neck, her hair, and as she buried her mouth in his shoulder felt the towel at her waist fall to the floor. Her hands scrabbled at his shirt-buttons and were then forced upwards as he pulled the T-shirt over her head.

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isn't happening,' she gasped, pulling his shirt |-and pressing her breasts against his chest. 'God, r of you. You're one solid bruise.' i,' murmured Slater. .'And still a bit tender in iock zone too.'

fingers found his belt. 'Help me,' she i. 'I can't get this . . .' f, it's a bit stiff. A present from Debbie.' both laughed, and she gasped as he reached clasped her round the thighs, and lifted her up ; his tongue could scour her breasts. 'Oh, please!' ed, bracing her arms on his shoulders. 'Oh,

vly he returned her to her feet and they kissed femore slowly this time. Pulling back from her he at her closely, examined her in a way that i and their respective situations had previously ^possible. She looked quite different from how abered her - it was as if he was seeing her for St time. She, in her turn, looked back unflinch ?him.

were both naked now, and taking a couple of ^ackwards he lowered himself to a sitting position s'trunk at the end of the bed. She sat facing him, straddling him, her nipples hard against his | the dark triangle of her pubic hair damp against

ach.

: promise me,' she said, 'that this is happening to Ferent people. To Eve Benbow and Neil . . . is your ID again?'

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'Clissold,' whispered Slater into her ear. 'Not a name I'd have chosen, but. . .'

'Promise me that you'll never tell anyone. That this'll never be mentioned. Ever. Promise me and then fuck me.'

'I won't tell a soul,' said Slater, slipping his hand palm-upwards between her legs and parting her with his fingers. 'I've signed the Official Secrets Act, remember?'

She squirmed, and he felt his fingers slip inside. Steadily, gasping louder now, she began to move against the heel of his hand. Below them, the lock of the trunk set up a ticking squeak.

'It's Fanon-Khayat,' Slater couldn't resist murmuring. Tie wants to join in!'

Eve groaned. 'You really know how to sweet-talk a girl, don't you? Did you bring any condoms with you?'

Slater froze. Stared at her. She smiled wearily back.

'I was under the impression one could rely on the SAS to turn up with the right kit.'

He shook his head. 'I didn't know it was this sort of operation.'

'It isn't - none of this is actually happening, we've already established that. But why don't you search the bathroom? These swanky hotels often have them hidden away somewhere.'

Slater did as Eve suggested, wrapping the towel round himself and searching the drawers and shelves. In the end, though, he had to admit defeat. Eve checked the bedside tables, but with no more

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ss. Self-conscious now that the mood had i, she had pulled on one of the hotel dressing Frustrated, Slater saw the moment slipping

go downstairs. There should be a gents with a ae. Will you wait?' ; come down with you.' aickly, they both dressed themselves.

was indeed a machine in the gents toilet next bar, but a sticker announced it 'Hors Service'. exited shaking his head. i laughed. 'I think next stop the airport.' lie taxi they stared into each other's eyes and held ler like love-struck teenagers. The journey was less than ten minutes, and soon they were ring arm in arm through the echoing and largely departure halls. Outside an arcade of locked 'they kissed each other, enjoying the extended nation of what was to come, ki're beautiful,' Slater heard himself saying to her, Salised that he meant it.

could fly away,' she said. 'We could choose a 1 off that departure list over there and go. Live t beach somewhere, work in a bar, go for walks ic seashore, make love all night.' She threw her jund his neck. 'Would you like that? Would ce you happy?' touched her cheek. 'Yes. That would make me . I would be the finest barman on the Coast and cook the best freshly caught snapper and we

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could have lots of illiterate children who could work as waiters and dream of life in London.'

'You spoil everything,' she reproved him. 'You're so unromantic!'

'I'm not unromantic,' he said, placing his hand inside her coat on her breast. 'I want you here and now and as you are. Right here and right now. Up against this partition if necessary.'

'Not before we've got what we came for. I don't want to start having those illiterate children quite yet.'

Finally, Slater found a vending machine that worked, and for which he had the correct change. He held up the packet and she applauded.

'Woukkyou do that?' he asked her in the taxi back to the hotel. 'Seriously? Would you walk away from everything and come and live with me in the back of beyond?'

BOOK: The Hit List
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