The man called Pedro smiled as he looked at the screen of his cell phone. The other hand held a glass of chilled vodka. It was far from his first of the evening.
“Prekrasniy! Chudesniy! Peters has left the sanctuary of the military base. Anatoly’s team has Peters cornered in the American capital.”
His younger companion was not quite so sanguine. But then, he had consumed far less vodka. “In English, remember?”
“OK: awesome, fantastic. In any language we will soon be shed of this Peters person.”
“Let us not celebrate too early. What do the Americans say, something about numbering eggs? Or is it hatching eggs? Besides, we do not know for whom Peters works. Who says they will not send another on the same mission.”
“Another American saying tells us not to jump off a bridge until we reach it.” A puzzled expression crossed Pedro’s face. “Why would one jump from a bridge in the first place? Anyway, we know the Englishman, the professor …”
“Cravas.”
“Cravas. He contacted the man who went to Iceland …”
“Karloff.”
“Yes, Karloff. He must have been the one who hired Peters or his employer.”
“Too bad he’s dead. Otherwise we might have some idea who that employer might be.”
Pedro reached out and gently slapped the other man’s cheek before tossing back the contents of his glass. “Do not be critical of your superiors. The decision to have Karloff die was made in Switzerland, not here. If the man had already spread the professor’s poison, how could we be sure it went no further?”
He refilled his glass and continued, “An obscure professor in northern England, that is one thing. Besides, these scientists are always bickering like married people: The world is getting warmer; the world is not getting warmer. Who takes them seriously anyway? Now that Karloff is gone and Peters soon will be, who will interfere with our mission? No one, that’s who! I’m ordering half of the teams to converge on the American capital immediately. Peters won’t escape us now!”
Carlos wasn’t quite so sure.