The Colonel checks his watch. ‘You have precisely one minute to persuade Miss Romanova to give me the book. Otherwise, your friends will suffer the same fate as the Tzar and his family in 1918.’
‘Bulatov! Listen to me! That’s not the way her mind works! She doesn’t care about any of those people or me! The only person you can threaten that would have any sway is her! You must see that!’
He shrugs. ‘You are, in a sense, her colleagues. That must mean something to her.’
I look at my friends, forced to pose in a line-up that’s ghoulishly similar to the assembly of Romanovs who faced their killers over a century earlier. I turn to Ekaterina. Plead with her. ‘Please! Just give him the book! Is it worth the lives of five innocent people? Ekaterina! He will execute them!’
Sophie says, ‘What’s going on, Marc? We don’t understand! We were all taken at gunpoint and—’
Bulatov shouts, ‘Silence!’ He adds to his soldiers, ‘If any of that lot says another word, shoot them in the face.’
I see Sophie go even paler as she steps back into line.
‘Ekaterina, please!’
She remains silent.
I grip the lapels of Bulatov’s suit in desperation. ‘It’s possible Helen Merrydale knows the combination of the vault. They trust each other! We just need to find her!’
Ekaterina’s voice is thick with scorn. ‘Helen hasn’t a clue! I’ve used the Romanov Foundation to launder money and cultivate alliances for years! She’s never suspected a thing and has never even asked me for the opening sequences. Kill me and the book is lost forever. Helen can’t help you.’
The Colonel says, ‘You have thirty seconds, Mr Novak.’
‘Ekaterina! I have the Red Diamond! You know that! It’s priceless! I can give that to you! Give him the book and you can keep the diamond.’
‘Do you have it here?’
‘No!’
‘Then no deal.’
Bulatov peels away and stands by the side of the armed men. Looks to my friends. ‘Stacey Smith, Sophie Grace, Reggie DeLuca, Molly Stone and Frank Harvey . . . In view of the fact that your colleagues are continuing their attack on Russia by repeatedly refusing a simple request, the Special Executive Committee has decided to execute you.’
Frank looks at me and stammers, ‘What? What?’
Bulatov turns away. ‘As I said, history repeats itself. Raise arms!’
Every weapon picks out a pre-arranged target.
I make one last plea, in the form of a simple promise. ‘If you do this, Colonel, somehow, some way – I will kill you.’
‘Really? Well, that’s a chance I’m prepared to take. We cannot fight history, Mr Novak.’ He looks to his soldiers. ‘Fire!’