Читать книгу Bestselling Conspiracy Thriller Trilogy: Sanctus, The Key, The Tower - Simon Toyne, Simon Toyne - Страница 89

Cornelius stood by the van watching Kutlar move painfully down the street towards him. If he got much worse they might have to reconsider his usefulness. Johann sat in the driver’s seat talking to the informant on the phone. He wrote down an address then hung up.

‘The girl’s here,’ he said.

Cornelius took the slip of paper and looked back down the street. Kutlar was the only one among them who had seen her, but he had his own image in his mind, and had done ever since the Abbot had outlined their mission. He stroked the puckered skin on his cheek where his beard wouldn’t grow, remembering a street on the outskirts of Kabul and the plaintive figure in the blue burkha holding out the bundle of rags that could have been a child, slowing their vehicle just long enough for the rocket propelled grenade to lock on to it.

It was good to picture your enemy.

It helped you focus.

So to him the girl was the woman who had helped wipe out his whole platoon, the destroyer of the only family he had ever known – until the Church embraced him. He imagined her threatening this new family and it gave him strength and purpose. This time he would stop her.

Johann slipped from behind the wheel and went to the rear of the van as Kutlar finally limped to a standstill beside them.

‘Get in,’ Cornelius said.

Kutlar did as he was told, like a dog blindly obeying the master who beat him.

Johann reappeared in his red windcheater and walked past without a word, heading in the direction Kutlar had just come from.

Cornelius climbed into the driver’s seat and handed the address to Kutlar. ‘Take us there,’ he said.

Kutlar felt the vibrations tear through his ruined leg as the van bumped over cheap municipal tarmac poured straight on to the ancient cobbles. He considered the pills in his pocket, but knew he couldn’t afford to take one. They killed the pain sure enough, but they also made him feel like everything was fine, and he couldn’t afford to feel that way.

Not if he wanted to live.

Johann didn’t look up as the van drove past. He continued round the corner and down towards Zilli’s place. As he drew closer he took out his mobile phone with his right hand and dropped his left into the windcheater and closed it around the stock of his Glock.

Zilli was standing on a chair behind the counter, slotting a red plastic box on to a high shelf between an empty disk spindle and an old Sega Megadrive.

‘D’you unlock these things?’ Johann held up his phone.

Zilli turned and squinted at it.

‘Sure.’ He stepped down. ‘What you got there – BlackBerry?’

Johann nodded.

‘Nice piece.’ He tapped the keyboard of a PC that despite its ancient appearance could hack into any phone known to man.

He pressed the menu button and realized too late that it was already unlocked.