No Time for Heroes by Brian Freemantle Read Free Book Online Page A

written reminder notes for himself.
    Fixing Danilov with an unbroken gaze, Metkin said: ‘I do not intend any misconceptions between us.’
    â€˜I hope there won’t be,’ said Danilov. The man was altogether too anxious, falling over himself to make his points and doing it badly. There was advantage to be taken here.
    â€˜Your appointment is provisional. Did Lapinsk make that clear?’
    â€˜No,’ Danilov conceded. Had it been an oversight by Lapinsk? Or an admission of further failure the old man hadn’t been able to concede?
    Metkin smiled, crumpling his face further. ‘If the experiment doesn’t work, it will be reconsidered. For that reason, your promoted rank to Lieutenant-General is only acting , subject to confirmation.’
    On what grade – his old or the temporary one – would his pension be calculated if he abandoned the whole stupid nonsense and quit the Militia entirely? ‘There is a car?’ He might as well get everything spelled out at the very beginning.
    â€˜Not personally assigned. Allocated from the car pool, and only when operational requirements permit.’
    Which they never would, Danilov accepted. ‘How do you see this new role being fulfilled?’
    Metkin went at last to his reminder notes. ‘Your function is to be administrative from now on. You will be responsible for all operational rotas and rosters. You will supervise and be answerable for all supplies and facilities throughout the building. You will control and administer all financial matters and prepare accounts and forward budgets, for presentation to the Finance Ministry. You will also liaise, where necessary, with uniformed Militia offices throughout the city.’
    Danilov sat silent for several minutes, content to let Metkin believe he was overwhelmed by the catalogue of duties. Which were administrative, despite what Lapinsk had said, and would be overwhelming, if he ever tried to perform them properly, because they were the work of at least four men. But Metkin was failing to realise how the role he had just announced could be selectively manipulated. Hoping he was maintaining a look of shocked bewilderment, Danilov said: ‘Have you officially notified every relevant department here at Petrovka?’
    â€˜The second thing I did after taking office.’
    That would be an essential part of the ridicule, accepted Danilov. Which was the only aspect from which the idiot would have considered it. ‘And the Ministry?’
    â€˜The first thing I did,’ said Metkin. ‘Both our own and Finance.’
    He’d answered one of his earlier questions, Danilov decided. Metkin wasn’t clever at all. The man was really remarkably stupid. Danilov was sure he could make Metkin look even more stupid. He was going to enjoy doing it.
    It was regular commuters on the New York and Boston shuttles from National who became daily more offended by the smell from the anonymous grey Ford. Two noted the Hertz bumper sticker and complained to the airport office, on the third day.
    The service attendant began retching when he was ten yards from the vehicle and backed off, believing he recognised the smell, although he wasn’t sure. He was definitely sure he was paid to jockey cars and fix minor faults, not examine decomposing bodies. That was a job for the police.
    The Hertz supervisor agreed, and dialled the 911 emergency number.
    â€˜Zimin was entrusted with briefing Antipov because he controls the bulls,’ insisted Yerin. ‘He should have gone to America himself, to see it went right: he likes seeing people hurt.’
    Gusovsky had agreed to Zimin being excluded from the meeting at his house in Kutbysevskiy. They were alone in the study, the bodyguards relegated to the outer rooms.
    â€˜We didn’t suggest he went,’ reminded Gusovsky, lighting one of the thin cigars the doctors had prohibited when the shadow on his lung was first