was. You will not be petulant, and you will not stand upon your dignity. You will refuse a client's request
64
Chris Ryan
if, in your judgement, to accept it would com Mnise that client's security. Do you understand?' 'Yes,' said Slater, deliberately withholding the 'sir' at years of non-commissioned service otherwise >ught automatically to his lips. 'Good,' said Duckworth with a quick smile. 'Very
1. I'm sure you'll ... fit in.' h,Tm sure I will,' Slater said.
P'Duckworth nodded. 'Just before I ask Josephine to : through the paperwork with you, Neil, I'd like to [ you a few lines of poetry. You may make of them it you will.'
Slater, who was studying a framed painting of an ab boy with a snake draped around his neck, tried to ak intelligent. Duckworth removed a book from a drawer in his sk.
'When the Himalayan peasant meets the he-bear in his
|" Hesitating, Duckworth glanced at Slater. 'For the female of the species', Slater obliged him, 'is
deadly than the male.' 'You know it!' said Duckworth. | 'My father used to read me Kipling when I was a Id,' said Slater. 'He was a Royal Engineers RSM. iandalay and Gunga Din were the nearest I ever got to arsery rhymes.'
65
The Hit List
And your mother?' Duckworth asked delicately. She was knocked down and killed by a police car m *lg Kong when I was six.' brought up by the army, then.' nretty much.'
fhere are worse parents, as any bodyguard will tell You;
Abandoning any pretence of interest in Slater's
Winnings, Duckworth shifted his attention to the
Screen of his computer. 'Are you free to work on
^dnesday? I've got a rather interesting one for
*�u.'
s he stepped out of the marble atrium into the street, o i r r *
l�*ter heard his name called. A smiling dark-haired 1Sure, tough-looking beneath the fashionably cut suit, ^^s waving and hurrying towards him. 'Andreas!'
'Neil! How are you, man?'
'I'm OK. Wow! It's good to see you. Are you here tci . . .' he nodded up at the building he had just left.
'That's right. I've just been on a job in Europe for tl\em. You?'
Slater nodded, and looked the other man up and i a
a^>wn. Andreas van Rijn was recognisably the same Person that he had served with in the SAS. The same s*^uare features and amused brown eyes, the same s\vagger, the same air of being up for anything. But s^>mething had changed. Some subtle smoothmg-out Process had taken place.
66
Chris Ryan
ktil his departure five years earlier, Andreas van been one of the Regiment's more colourful Cters. Good-humoured in the vilest of conditions I, supremely efficient soldier, he had always seemed ^ter to represent the best that the SAS stood for. /o men had been good friends, serving together >rthern Ireland, the Gulf, Libya and Sri Lanka. : had shared more hangovers than either of them [ to remember and probably, it occurred to Slater, girlfriend too. eas had left the Regiment after an Overthrust
|?erthrust was an inter-service cooperation ic between the special forces and MIS. Slater, van Rijn, Dave Constantine and a handful of ^NCOs had been sent to London, dressed in plain and placed alongside the Box agents (in circles MIS was known as 'Box' after their old 3x 500 address, just as MI6 were invariably 'the ). On balance, Slater reckoned, the soldiers had i up the spooks. Northern Ireland had sharpened and they were more aware of the consequences ?t doing the job properly. Dave Constantine claimed that he'd been on a surveillance detail forth London with a Box agent when his anion had glanced at his watch, said, 'Right, five ft that's me off home,' climbed out of the car, and ared. While Slater only half-believed the story, ad not particularly enjoyed the Millbank phere. For his money there were too many
67
The Hit List
smart-arsed, number-crunching twenty-three-year olds about the place.
Andreas, on the other hand, had
64
Chris Ryan
if, in your judgement, to accept it would com Mnise that client's security. Do you understand?' 'Yes,' said Slater, deliberately withholding the 'sir' at years of non-commissioned service otherwise >ught automatically to his lips. 'Good,' said Duckworth with a quick smile. 'Very
1. I'm sure you'll ... fit in.' h,Tm sure I will,' Slater said.
P'Duckworth nodded. 'Just before I ask Josephine to : through the paperwork with you, Neil, I'd like to [ you a few lines of poetry. You may make of them it you will.'
Slater, who was studying a framed painting of an ab boy with a snake draped around his neck, tried to ak intelligent. Duckworth removed a book from a drawer in his sk.
'When the Himalayan peasant meets the he-bear in his
|" Hesitating, Duckworth glanced at Slater. 'For the female of the species', Slater obliged him, 'is
deadly than the male.' 'You know it!' said Duckworth. | 'My father used to read me Kipling when I was a Id,' said Slater. 'He was a Royal Engineers RSM. iandalay and Gunga Din were the nearest I ever got to arsery rhymes.'
65
The Hit List
And your mother?' Duckworth asked delicately. She was knocked down and killed by a police car m *lg Kong when I was six.' brought up by the army, then.' nretty much.'
fhere are worse parents, as any bodyguard will tell You;
Abandoning any pretence of interest in Slater's
Winnings, Duckworth shifted his attention to the
Screen of his computer. 'Are you free to work on
^dnesday? I've got a rather interesting one for
*�u.'
s he stepped out of the marble atrium into the street, o i r r *
l�*ter heard his name called. A smiling dark-haired 1Sure, tough-looking beneath the fashionably cut suit, ^^s waving and hurrying towards him. 'Andreas!'
'Neil! How are you, man?'
'I'm OK. Wow! It's good to see you. Are you here tci . . .' he nodded up at the building he had just left.
'That's right. I've just been on a job in Europe for tl\em. You?'
Slater nodded, and looked the other man up and i a
a^>wn. Andreas van Rijn was recognisably the same Person that he had served with in the SAS. The same s*^uare features and amused brown eyes, the same s\vagger, the same air of being up for anything. But s^>mething had changed. Some subtle smoothmg-out Process had taken place.
66
Chris Ryan
ktil his departure five years earlier, Andreas van been one of the Regiment's more colourful Cters. Good-humoured in the vilest of conditions I, supremely efficient soldier, he had always seemed ^ter to represent the best that the SAS stood for. /o men had been good friends, serving together >rthern Ireland, the Gulf, Libya and Sri Lanka. : had shared more hangovers than either of them [ to remember and probably, it occurred to Slater, girlfriend too. eas had left the Regiment after an Overthrust
|?erthrust was an inter-service cooperation ic between the special forces and MIS. Slater, van Rijn, Dave Constantine and a handful of ^NCOs had been sent to London, dressed in plain and placed alongside the Box agents (in circles MIS was known as 'Box' after their old 3x 500 address, just as MI6 were invariably 'the ). On balance, Slater reckoned, the soldiers had i up the spooks. Northern Ireland had sharpened and they were more aware of the consequences ?t doing the job properly. Dave Constantine claimed that he'd been on a surveillance detail forth London with a Box agent when his anion had glanced at his watch, said, 'Right, five ft that's me off home,' climbed out of the car, and ared. While Slater only half-believed the story, ad not particularly enjoyed the Millbank phere. For his money there were too many
67
The Hit List
smart-arsed, number-crunching twenty-three-year olds about the place.
Andreas, on the other hand, had
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