Page 106 of The Collector
“Page thirty-six of the directive.”
“Is it happening?”
“It might be.”
“You don’t think the Americans—”
“Yeah, Eli. I think they are.”
With the exception of a brief diversion around the city of Tver and a zigzag through the lakes of the Valdaysky National Park, it was essentially a straight line radiating from the eleven o’clock position on the Moscow Ring Road and terminating at the southern gates of Saint Petersburg. Hiding was impossible; there were tolls to pay and cameras monitoring the flow of traffic. At 1:20 a.m. on a miserable winter’s night, it was a trickle. Magnus was sailing along at 115 kilometers per hour and making excellent time.
Ingrid switched off his phone and removed the SIM card. “Pull over.”
“Why?”
“Because you can’t read while driving.”
“Do you think that’s wise?”
“Your phone is disabled.”
“What about yours?”
“It’s not connected to the cellular network.”
Magnus guided the Range Rover onto the verge and braked to a halt. Then he peered into the side-view mirror, his left hand resting on the latch.
“What on earth are you waiting for?”
A behemoth Russian truck thundered past in a swirling cloud of snow and road salt. “Does that answer your question?” asked Magnus, and climbed out.
Ingrid slithered over the center console and settled behind the wheel. Magnus, after passing through the glare of the Range Rover’s headlamps, took her place in the passenger seat.
Frowning, he said, “I think I liked you better when you were my adoring secretary.”
Ingrid quickly adjusted the seat and mirrors and pressed the accelerator to the floor. The road before her was empty and brightly lit. For now, at least, it was free of snow and ice.
Magnus switched on the overhead reading lamp and held up the Security Council directive. “First things first.”
“It wasn’t in the safe.”
“Where was it?”
“His attaché case.”
“Why didn’t you photograph it?”
“There wasn’t time.”
“Your instructions were quite specific, as I recall.”
“Nikolai Petrov took that document to his meeting with the Russian president tonight for a reason.”
“And you can be bloody well sure he’s wondering where it is now.”
“Unless he doesn’t realize it’s missing.”
“He’ll find out soon enough.” Magnus opened the Security Council directive and began to read. After a moment, he whispered, “Dear God in heaven.”
