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set of clothes. In fact, if you didn’t know about the fucking great hole in his thigh, you’d have thought he was just having a quiet nap before taking his wife out to dinner. It was the least I could do after the care he’d taken with the dead couple and their baby.
    We were on a flight out of Changi International first thing next morning. BB and I were in Club Class, Mong in cargo. During the journey, I mulled over what needed to be done next.
    Crazy Dave was waiting for us at Heathrow with a funeral director and a hearse. I made a deal with him as soon as we landed. He’d give Tracy my second payment as well as Mong’s. He’d tell her it was the agreed fee for the job. I’d made the old fucker a promise, and this was the start of me keeping it.

3
    TRACY PUT HER hand on my shoulder. ‘What am I going to do, Nick? He was all I had.’
    I kept my eyes on the road. I didn’t want to crash this thing and make her life even worse. ‘It’ll be tough at first, Tracy, but life does go on …’
    Her hand fell off my shoulder and back onto her lap. She nodded slowly. But then the hand came back up to her face and she started sobbing again.
    I patted her shoulder, trying to drive and look at her at the same time. ‘Have you thought about moving away from here? You know, try somewhere new. Somewhere there won’t be constant reminders.’
    She reached into a small black bag for more tissues. ‘I’ve always wanted to go to India. On the beach. Maybe a small restaurant. Just be happy.’ She blew her nose. ‘But I can’t. Mum’s still ill, and then there’s Jan …’
    I put my hand back on the steering wheel. Jan was a problem.
    She was going to be all over Tracy now she had a few bob. But things weren’t as rosy as Jan thought. Mong had died while helping the victims of the tsunami. He’d taken out a life-insurance policy to cover the mortgage, but couldn’t have read the bit in the small print about not putting himself in harm’s way. They weren’t expecting to pay up. I’d asked BB if he’d bung in his share to make up for it, but I wasn’t holding my breath.
    Tracy dried her eyes as we approached the four-bedroom mock-Tudor that she now owned, or would shortly.
    ‘I don’t even have any children to be with, Nick. We tried so hard, but we couldn’t.’
    She looked at me. A dreadful thought crossed her mind. I could see it in her face. ‘I won’t lose you, Nick, will I? Just because Mong’s gone it doesn’t mean I have to lose you as well, does it?’
    I parked up in the drive and pushed the selector to P. ‘I’m not going anywhere. I’ll always make sure you’re OK, no matter what happens.’

PART THREE

1
    Moscow
    Thursday, 17 March 2011
    Gunslingers Gun Club
    THE EXTRACTOR FAN was working overtime in the low-level, low-lit twenty-five-metre range. There were six hi-tech firing cubicles, each with electric wires that spun out the target between five and twenty-five metres. The fans were there to extract the lead dust that spat from the muzzles as the rounds left the weapons. Over a period of time, that stuff can line your lungs. The fans extracted the smoke and smell of cordite and cigarettes as well. People smoked everywhere in Moscow. I didn’t know if there was a public policy against it, but even if there was, who was going to take the risk of telling you not to?
    I pulled my Glock from its padded nylon zip-up. I hadn’t been a fan of these weapons when they first came out. For a start, they incorporated three different safety systems, not one of which I could feel and work with my thumb. But now, like two-thirds of USA law enforcement and many other police and military agencies around the planet, I put my hands up. I’d got it wrong. It was an excellent weapon.
    I’d misjudged Moscow, too. It had taken me a while to realize it was just an extreme version of New York. You knew where you stood with the Muscovites. People didn’t open doors for each other. When you wanted something you