“I agree.”

“On the other hand, the fewer people who know, the better. The locals should not be told that Belov is dead.”

“You mean I should withhold the information from the IRA?”

“That would seem sensible.”

“All right.”

“Good. I’ll arrange the plane. See you soon.”

Ashimov switched off the phone, put it down and that’s when he received the shock of his life. He looked up to find Greta Novikova standing in the doorway, Patrick Ryan’s arm around her, and he was amazed at the feeling of joy that flooded through him. He had never been a man to feel much emotion for anyone and surprised himself by rushing round the desk and embracing her.

“Greta, I can’t believe it. I heard what happened.” He kissed her, then held her at arm’s length. “My God, what happened to you?”

“I can’t believe I’m here,” she said. “What about you?”

“Salter thought he killed me, but I was wearing body armor. Belov? Murphy?”

“Gone,” she said. “It’s a miracle I’m here,” and she explained about the blast.

There was blood on the left side of her head and he examined it. “It’s not too bad, but it might need a couple of stitches. We’ll get that fixed by the good sisters at Saint Mary’s near Ballykelly.”

“The Sisters?” She was bewildered.

“They’re a nursing order. Belov does a lot for them.”

Ryan had gone away and now returned with the kitchen first-aid box. He rummaged in it and produced a large bandage, and Ashimov patched her up. McGuire was hovering in the background. Greta staggered a little and Ashimov caught her.

“Take it easy. I’ll take you upstairs to your room so you can change.”

“What for?”

“We’re going to Moscow. A plane is coming to pick us up.” As he led her out, he said to the other two, “Wait for me.”

In Dublin, Liam Bell sat in the sitting room of his apartment in a warehouse development. He was reading the evening paper, his spectacles giving him the look of a schoolteacher, which, in his youth, he’d been. Many years of dedicated service to the IRA had take him as far as Chief of Staff. He’d resigned a year earlier to nurse his wife through terminal cancer and another had taken his place in the command structure. Now he was bored out of his mind and thirsting for action – any kind of action – and his phone rang and presented him with some.