Read Online Time of the Assassins by Alistair MacLean - Free Book Online Page B

Mike?'

Kolchinsky explained the day's events, culminating in the attempted assassination of Jamel Mobuto.

'Good God,' Philpott muttered when Kolchinsky had finished talking. He looked at Whitlock. 'Are you alright?'

'I cut my leg when I fell off the motorbike. It's nothing serious. But my suit's a total write-off. It'll break my tailor's heart.'

'At least you're alright. Any news on the assassin and his accomplice?'

'Nothing yet,' Kolchinsky replied. 'They weren't carrying any ID but they're almost certainly Zimbalan. Probably ex-Security policemen. I've had their photographs and prints faxed through to the police in Habane. Hopefully they'll have come up with something by tomorrow.'

'And what was that you said earlier about Bernard. He's CIA?'

Kolchinsky nodded then opened the attache case. He handed his photostat copy of Bailey's file to Philpott. 'It's all in there. I'll leave it with you tonight. It certainly makes interesting reading.'

'I bet it does,' Philpott hissed. 'Be careful of Bailey, Sergei. Tell him as little as possible. And don't trust him an inch.'

'I think we all realized that when we met him,' Kolchinsky said, glancing at Whitlock.

'And as for those two bullet-catchers...' Whitlock trailed off with a shake of his head.

'What about them?' Philpott asked.

'Let's just say I wouldn't want them protecting me,' Whitlock replied. 'As I said to Sergei back at the hotel, I only wish we could have used our own people to babysit Mobuto. I'd have slept better.'

'I did try, C.W.,' Philpott said with an apologetic shrug. 'I wanted to bring in Strike Force Seven as his personal bodyguard team. That would have left you free to work with Sabrina in Beirut. But the President wanted this to be a joint operation and Bailey managed to convince him to use CIA men as bodyguards. There was nothing I could do. At least the President saw enough sense to agree to my request to put you in charge of the unit. I know you won't let me down, C.W. Just keep an eye on Bailey's goons. If President Mobuto had been killed tonight we'd have been crucified.'

'We've still got three days to go, sir. They're sure to try again.'

'You can count on it. And what happened to this warning Bernard was supposed to have passed on to Bailey?'

'I spoke to Bailey after the attempt on the President's life,' Kolchinsky said. 'He claims Bernard never contacted him. His theory is that the two men were either freelance or else they decided to try and kill the President by themselves without telling the others.'

'It just doesn't ring true, does it?' Whitlock said.

'Of course it doesn't,' Philpott snapped tersely. 'But we're dealing with Bailey, remember?'

Kolchinsky nodded then rubbed his eyes wearily. 'Well, there's nothing more we can do tonight. And I'm shattered. It's been some day.'

Whitlock got to his feet. 'Only three to go. Can you drop me off at the apartment on your way home, Sergei? If I get the subway I'll probably fall asleep and end up at Washington Heights.'

Kolchinsky patted Whitlock's shoulder. 'Of course. Come on.'

Philpott watched them leave then stared at the folder Kolchinsky had left with him. He knew Bailey was up to something, but what? The thought lingered as he opened the folder and started to read its contents.

FOUR

    Sabrina paused outside the door, knocked, and entered. The man behind the desk was in his early forties with a dark, swarthy complexion and a thick black moustache which arched over the corners of his mouth. He looked up from the document he was reading and his eyes lingered on her body before he sat back and raised his eyebrows quizzically, waiting for her to speak.

'Are you Captain Farouk?' she asked.

'That's what it says,' he replied in faultless English, gesturing to the nameplate on his desk.

'If you read Arabic,' Sabrina replied with a smile. 'I spoke to you earlier on the phone - '

'Ah, yes,' Farouk cut in and glanced down at the notepad in front of him. 'Miss Cassidy, not so?'

'Sabrina