‘Tell me there’s a way out of here, Ekaterina.’
‘No . . .’ She massages her temples. ‘But there is a Beretta in my desk!’ She rushes across to it and pulls open the bottom drawer. Then the one above it. ‘Damn! They’ve completely emptied it!’
I frown. ‘That’s weird. Why would they do that? I mean, I get why they’ve taken the sidearm, but why remove everything else?’
‘Does it matter?’
‘It suggests they’re looking for something but they don’t know what it is themselves.’
‘You’re missing the big picture, Novak! You’ve seen what they did to Pavel, and probably the rest of my guards. Bulatov isn’t bothered about the fact we’re on British soil! This is a small war and we’ve got to get out of it now, or we’ll—’
She’s interrupted by a knock at the door. Neither of us responds, but we hear a lock being turned. The door opens and Maksim Bulatov enters the room, flanked by two men, both wearing paramilitary uniforms and both carrying Heckler & Koch UMP submachine guns.
I try to look pleased at his arrival. ‘Good to see you again, Colonel! I was saying to Ekaterina, we really should get Maksim over for a drink or two and . . .’ I trail off. Through the open doorway, I can see more soldiers dressed in uniforms identical to those worn by the two men with Bulatov. They’re dragging the bodies of Ipatiev House guards along the corridor. Every one of the lifeless bodies is drenched in red. ‘How many did you kill, Colonel?’
‘Me personally? None. I detest violence. Noisy. Unwieldy. Unpredictable. For example, my strategist told me we could take this place without sustaining any casualties of our own. But I’ve just been informed that two of my men lost their lives once we thought we’d secured the building.’ He shakes his head. ‘Two of my employees dead. That’s expenditure I really don’t need.’
‘And Ekaterina’s guards?’
‘They put up a good fight! All dead, though. Why didn’t they just run? They were outnumbered and outgunned, but instead of laying down their arms, they tried to defend this place. Mr Novak! I’ve worked with soldiers for well over a quarter of a century. But I’ll never understand them.’
‘Yeah, well. They have little things like a sense of duty and courage, which will always be alien to men like you.’
‘Dear, dear, dear . . . You threatened me once. Remember? Threatened to tear out my fucking heart. And now you insult me.’ He nods to one of his guards.
I step back, but the man moves quickly, slamming the butt stock of his UMP into my face. I feel my lip split and blood pours from my mouth.
I dab my handkerchief over the cut. ‘What do you want, Colonel?’
‘What do any of us want? Respect. Security. Good food and wine we can’t afford.’
‘I meant—’
‘Oh, I know what you meant. I was using humour. You remember we discussed how you deploy jokes in certain situations. But your humour seems to have deserted you. Why is that, I wonder?’
‘Massacres tend to have that effect on me.’
‘Nobody else needs to die if you simply give me what I want.’
Ekaterina says, ‘And what is that?’
Bulatov looks astonished. ‘Isn’t it obvious? The Romanov Code. Hand me that and I can return to Moscow in triumph.’
‘Is that it?’ It’s hard to tell whether Ekaterina is more surprised or aghast. ‘You just want the book? Why? Don’t you want our intel? Our funds? Our assets?’
The Colonel laughs. ‘Intel? Don’t be so naïve! Some of your top people work for me. I’m sure some of my top people work for you. Our intel is already shared! Ha! That’s Communism in action, Miss Romanova! As for your funds and assets . . . Russia is the biggest country on earth. We don’t need your subscription fees.’
I ask, ‘But why is the book so important?’
‘Because it is history! Because of what it represents! A past that we can respect, but must not replicate.’
‘Is the Kremlin really so worried about the power of an old book?’
‘Mr Novak, men have been fighting wars over old books since the time of Christ.’
‘Then perhaps it’s time to stop.’
‘History repeats itself. And as surely as the tide will continue to ebb and flow. Any person that tries to fight or deny it is nothing but a chronological King Canute. And now . . .’ He steps over Pavel’s body and sits in the seat behind the desk. ‘I’d like the Romanov Code, Mr Novak.’ He checks his watch. ‘You’ve less than five minutes to give it to me, or I’ll order the death of everyone dear to you.’