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Englishman.Madison looked up at the photograph of Viktor Orlov.
    ‘Don’t know what you look so worried about,’ he said drily.‘Sounds like a piece of piss to me.’
    Alexei laughed humourlessly.
    ‘It’s not all bad news, you know,’ Madison continued. ‘With your kickboxing background, if there’s any trouble at least you can take care of yourself until the cavalry arrives.’
    ‘You obviously didn’t see my last fight,’ Alexei said gloomily.
    Madison grinned.‘You sound just like our Brazilian agent,’ he said.‘He took some convincing at first, too.’
    ‘Oh yeah?And how did things work out for him?’
    The Englishman nodded.‘Not bloody bad.He made it out the other side.Busted the nastiest gang in Rio to boot.’ He patted Alexei on the back. ‘And I’ve every confidence you’ll be just as successful.Trojan only selects the best, Alexei.We don’t make mistakes.’
    Despite Madison’s encouragement, as he stared at the photograph of the skinhead gang, Alexei felt anything but confident.
    ‘I hate to interrupt this touching scene, but …’
    They turned round to see Valerie Singer standing in the doorway. ‘Looks like events have overtaken us,’ she said.‘You’d better come and see this.’
    Back in the main hall, Darius Jordan was standing in front of a television screen, watching a local news programme.A glamorous blonde woman with a serious expression was addressing the camera.
    ‘Only hours after today’s conviction of the neo-Nazi Nikolai Borovsky for murder, this station was sent avideotape claiming to show Rozalina Petrova, a human rights lawyer and key figure behind Borovsky’s guilty verdict.Experts have analysed the recording, and confirmed its authenticity.’
    The picture changed to grainy, hand-held video footage of a middle-aged woman sitting in a chair in front of a giant Nazi flag, her head slumped forward on to her chest.Three men in balaclavas were standing guard around her.One of them lifted her head to show her face to the camera.
    ‘She doesn’t look like she knows what day it is,’ said Alexei.
    ‘They’ve drugged her,’ Jordan replied grimly.
    The screen cut back to the news studio.‘In the video,’ the newsreader continued, ‘the men state that the Russian authorities have ten days to free the convicted Borovsky from prison, or Ms Petrova will be executed.So far the Russian Justice Ministry has been unavailable for comment.’
    Alexei glanced at Jordan.
    ‘Do you think this is the Eagles?’
    ‘I don’t think,’ the American replied.‘I know .’
    He turned to Richard Madison.‘Whatever training programmes you were planning to run through with Alexei, we need to get to operational mode as soon as possible.’ Darius Jordan looked back again at the screen, which was displaying a close-up of Rozalina Petrova’s woozy face.‘There’s no time to waste.’

7. Clock Watching
    Forty-two hours.Alexei stared at the large LED timer on the monastery wall as it counted down, willing it to stop.There were only forty-two hours until mission commencement – which Darius Jordan had scheduled for 1100 hours the day after next.It felt like both a lifetime and a heartbeat away.
    Alexei was sitting gloomily in a chair while a pretty young make-up artist called Yelena bustled around him.Ordinarily he would have enjoyed chatting to her, but as she carefully shaved the hair from his head he could feel himself trembling.
    Yelena turned off the razor and inspected Alexei’s skinhead, finally nodding with approval.‘You’re starting to look the part,’ she said.
    ‘Do you do this a lot?’ he asked.
    Yelena laughed.‘Not in these conditions.Usually I work on movies. Trojan hired me as an “outside consultant” – whatever that means.They pay me too well to ask any questions.’ She smiled.‘Right, time for stage two.You need to take your top off.’
    Alexei did as he was told, feeling both cold in the draughty hall and acutely self-conscious.Yelena pickedup a