negotiation. At least it would allow his other security team to arrive.
"Can't we make a deal?" he pleaded.
The man waited a moment, as if processing the offer. "I want your phone."
Mustafa hesitated. The lighter flame danced but didn't waver. The smell of gasoline grew stronger.
"All right," he agreed. The phone contained a lot of information that might prove damaging to him, but he had no doubt the man would kill him if he didn't hand it over.
Mustafa lowered the window a little over an inch. He didn't want the man to just shoot him out of hand. He slid the cell phone through the space.
The man plucked the phone from his fingertips and shoved it into a pocket.
"That's what you wanted, right?" Mustafa said. "The phone?"
"No," the man said. The headlights of the truck behind the sedan revealed the man's features. He was blond-haired and blue-eyed with a chiseled jaw.
Realizing what the man intended to do, Mustafa grabbed the pistol from his bodyguard's hand and tried to shove the barrel through the space.
Without flinching from Mustafa's pistol, the man touched the flame to the hole in the bulletproof window. The gasoline vapor and liquid caught fire at once.
Horrified, Mustafa watched as the flames spread over his arm, then crawled along the seat and covered his body. The liquid
whoosh
of the accelerant's ignition filled his ears. Then he felt the painful charring of his flesh.
Abandoning his efforts to shoot the man, Mustafa gripped the lock release and tried to open the door. The man outside the car leaned against the door and jammed it.
"No!" Mustafa howled. He drew in his breath, sucking in the gasoline vapor, and the flames crawled inside him. Death claimed him almost at once.
13
Kate looked at the glowing icon on her notebook computer screen and pressed it.
Immediately a videophone link opened up and revealed Samantha on the other end of the connection. The call was heavily encrypted.
"I got the notice that you wanted to speak to me." Curiosity showed in Samantha's dark gaze.
Kate leaned back in her chair. "We've had some developments."
"I heard Mustafa was killed by a rival. Burned in his car," Samantha said.
Kate didn't like thinking about that. The man's death had been horrible, but she wasn't going to second-guess an agent's work in the field. Especially not when it concerned a murderer like Mustafa.
"More than that," Kate said. "Have you heard of a man named Mayrbek Taburova?"
"No. Should I have?"
"MI-6 seems to have been poking around in his business over the last few years." Kate tapped the keyboard. "I'm sending you some files. Overview for the moment. But I'll be sending more-developed records to you later."
"I assume I'm going to get to know a lot more about Taburova," Samantha said.
"We all are." Kate entered the last necessary keystroke and sent the document package she'd pieced together.
Instantly the open frame containing Samantha's face pushed over to the side of the large plasma monitor. An image of a man with a square jaw took shape. His blue eyes showed cruelty, but his full lips promised passion. He wore his dark hair swept backward, and it curled slightly over his ears and at the back of his neck. Dressed in a dark blue turtleneck and a gray shooting jacket, he carried a shotgun over his shoulder and stood in an open field.
"Intriguing," Samantha said. "Looks like a poster boy of some kind."
"He is," Kate agreed. "According to the intel I've received, Taburova is one of the current leaders of the Chechen rebels. He's lost an eye since this picture was taken."
"I thought we'd agreed to stay out of that nasty bit of business for the time being."
"We had. Fighting a civilian war in the Russian Caucasus Mountains would be impossible. Russian military forces haven't had much luck with that."
"So why are we interested in Taburova?"
"Because Mustafa bought those weapons for Taburova," Kate said.
"American weapons?"
"Yes."
"That doesn't make much sense."
"I thought we'd
"Can't we make a deal?" he pleaded.
The man waited a moment, as if processing the offer. "I want your phone."
Mustafa hesitated. The lighter flame danced but didn't waver. The smell of gasoline grew stronger.
"All right," he agreed. The phone contained a lot of information that might prove damaging to him, but he had no doubt the man would kill him if he didn't hand it over.
Mustafa lowered the window a little over an inch. He didn't want the man to just shoot him out of hand. He slid the cell phone through the space.
The man plucked the phone from his fingertips and shoved it into a pocket.
"That's what you wanted, right?" Mustafa said. "The phone?"
"No," the man said. The headlights of the truck behind the sedan revealed the man's features. He was blond-haired and blue-eyed with a chiseled jaw.
Realizing what the man intended to do, Mustafa grabbed the pistol from his bodyguard's hand and tried to shove the barrel through the space.
Without flinching from Mustafa's pistol, the man touched the flame to the hole in the bulletproof window. The gasoline vapor and liquid caught fire at once.
Horrified, Mustafa watched as the flames spread over his arm, then crawled along the seat and covered his body. The liquid
whoosh
of the accelerant's ignition filled his ears. Then he felt the painful charring of his flesh.
Abandoning his efforts to shoot the man, Mustafa gripped the lock release and tried to open the door. The man outside the car leaned against the door and jammed it.
"No!" Mustafa howled. He drew in his breath, sucking in the gasoline vapor, and the flames crawled inside him. Death claimed him almost at once.
13
Kate looked at the glowing icon on her notebook computer screen and pressed it.
Immediately a videophone link opened up and revealed Samantha on the other end of the connection. The call was heavily encrypted.
"I got the notice that you wanted to speak to me." Curiosity showed in Samantha's dark gaze.
Kate leaned back in her chair. "We've had some developments."
"I heard Mustafa was killed by a rival. Burned in his car," Samantha said.
Kate didn't like thinking about that. The man's death had been horrible, but she wasn't going to second-guess an agent's work in the field. Especially not when it concerned a murderer like Mustafa.
"More than that," Kate said. "Have you heard of a man named Mayrbek Taburova?"
"No. Should I have?"
"MI-6 seems to have been poking around in his business over the last few years." Kate tapped the keyboard. "I'm sending you some files. Overview for the moment. But I'll be sending more-developed records to you later."
"I assume I'm going to get to know a lot more about Taburova," Samantha said.
"We all are." Kate entered the last necessary keystroke and sent the document package she'd pieced together.
Instantly the open frame containing Samantha's face pushed over to the side of the large plasma monitor. An image of a man with a square jaw took shape. His blue eyes showed cruelty, but his full lips promised passion. He wore his dark hair swept backward, and it curled slightly over his ears and at the back of his neck. Dressed in a dark blue turtleneck and a gray shooting jacket, he carried a shotgun over his shoulder and stood in an open field.
"Intriguing," Samantha said. "Looks like a poster boy of some kind."
"He is," Kate agreed. "According to the intel I've received, Taburova is one of the current leaders of the Chechen rebels. He's lost an eye since this picture was taken."
"I thought we'd agreed to stay out of that nasty bit of business for the time being."
"We had. Fighting a civilian war in the Russian Caucasus Mountains would be impossible. Russian military forces haven't had much luck with that."
"So why are we interested in Taburova?"
"Because Mustafa bought those weapons for Taburova," Kate said.
"American weapons?"
"Yes."
"That doesn't make much sense."
"I thought we'd
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