Angel of Death by Jack Higgins Read Free Book Online

through flesh. He’ll be fine, but I want him in for a week.”
    “When can we see him?” Belov asked.
    “He’s woozy right now. Give him half an hour, then five minutes only. I’ll see you later.”
    Gupta went out. Lang said, “He seems on your side.”
    “I knew him in Afghanistan,” Belov said. “Helped him come to England. Don’t get the wrong impression. He helps me out on the odd occasion. Most of the time he specializes in drug addiction. Does fine work.”
    “So what went wrong tonight?” Lang asked.
    “My dear man, do you really want to get into this any more than you have to?”
    “I’m already up to my ears,” Lang said. “And Tom Curry is the best friend I have in the world.”
    “But you’re in the Government.”
    “So?”
    “And Curry, like me, is a committed Communist. We believe that we are right and you are wrong.”
    “But I often am,” Lang told him. “I’m sure you’ll lead me to the guillotine when the moment arrives, but I take friendship seriously, so what about Tom? What went wrong?”
    “Colonel Boris Ashimov went wrong. He’s Head of Station at the London Embassy for the KGB. As you know, GRU is Military Intelligence and we have our differences. I hadn’t realized how deep they were until tonight.”
    “He set you up?” Rupert Lang said.
    “So it would appear. If it hadn’t been for the Savoy affair, I’d have gone personally.”
    “But instead, poor old Tom takes the bullet.” Rupert Lang wasn’t smiling. His eyes glittered, there was a wolfish look to his face. “I took a bullet myself once. Not nice.”
    “Of course,” Belov said. “One Para. Bloody Sunday. You were a Lieutenant then.”
    Just then a nurse appeared. “He’s surfaced. You can go in now if you like.”
     
     
    Curry managed a weak smile. “Still here, am I?”
    “For a long time yet,” Rupert Lang told him.
    Curry turned to Belov. “What went wrong, Yuri?”
    “It would appear Ashimov set me up. Ali Hamid was supposed to knock me off. Unfortunately I sent you. For you, that is, not for me. However, we must cover the trail as much as possible, give an explanation for Hamid’s death. He’s a known terrorist. Both Scotland Yard and MI5 will find that out soon enough.”
    “What would you suggest?” Lang asked.
    “Someone should claim credit for his death.” Belov nodded. “That would take care of things nicely.”
    “Like the Provisional IRA?” Curry demanded.
    “No, something new, something to confuse them all.”
    “You mean an entirely new terrorist group?” Rupert Lang asked.
    “Why not?” Belov smiled. “Bloody Sunday, wasn’t that January 30, 1972? What if I put a call through to the
Times
claiming credit for Hamid’s killing on behalf of January 30? That would certainly give the anti-terrorist units at every level something to chew on.”
    “Rather like that Greek group we read about,” Lang said. “November 17. Yes, I like it. Should muddy the waters nicely.”
    “Of course,” Belov said. “You see, Mr. Lang, because of the cause I serve and Tom here, chaos is my main interest in life. Fear, uncertainty, and chaos. I want to create as much of all these things as possible in the Western world. Then gradually the cracks begin to show and finally the system breaks down. Ireland, for example. We don’t take sides, but we do actively help to keep the whole rotten mess going. A civil war, a descent into madness, and then our friends, and there are many in Ireland, take over.”
    “Another Cuba, only in Britain’s backyard,” Lang said. “Interesting.”
    “I’ve been very frank,” Belov said. “But it doesn’t seem to bother you.”
    “Very little in this life does, old sport.”
    “Fine. I’ll take care of this January 30 thing then.”
    It was Curry who said, “And who takes care of Ashimov? He’s got to kill you now, Yuri, no choice.”
    “Yes, someone should sort that bastard out.”
    Rupert Lang opened the briefcase beside the bed and took