The Wolf at the Door by Jack Higgins Read Free Book Online Page A

“We’ve been up against a lot of very bad people in our day. Al Qaeda, a wide range of Islamic terrorists, Hamas, Hezbollah. We’ve been in Lebanon, Hazar, Bosnia, Kosovo. And you older guys talk about the Cold War. But the Cold War is back, it seems to me, so we can add in the Russians.”
    “Which adds up to a lot of enemies,” Dillon put in. “Lermov, who’ll be the new Head of Station for the GRU here, was at the UN reception with Putin, and we were talking to him. Baited him, really. Asked after Boris Luzhkov, and was told he was in Moscow being considered for a new post.”
    “Six pounds of gray ash, that bastard,” Billy said.
    “And when I asked after Yuri Bounine, he said he’d been given another assignment.”
    “He knew something,” Miller said. “I’m sure of it.”
    “Well, if he knows that Bounine is guarding Alex Kurbsky at his aunt Svetlana’s house in Belsize Park, we’re in trouble,” Ferguson told him.
    They were all silent at the mention of the famous Russian writer whose defection had caused so much mayhem recently but of whom they’d all become unaccountably fond.
    Dillon said, “We’re going to have to do something, General. They could be in harm’s way.”
    “I’m aware of that, Dillon,” Ferguson snapped. “But you could widen the circle to include a lot of people who’ve been involved with us.” He turned to Miller. “What about your sister, Major? She helped us out in that business involving the IRA in County Louth last year. She even shot one of them.”
    Miller’s sister, Lady Monica Starling, an archaeologist and Cambridge don, had indeed proved her mettle—and, in the process, had become as close a friend to Dillon as a woman could.
    Miller frowned and turned to Dillon. “He’s got a point, Sean, we should speak to her.”
    Roper said, “If the rest of you can shut up for a moment, I’ll get her on the line.” He was answered at once. She sounded fraught, her voice echoing through the speakers.
    “Who is this?”
    “No need to bite my head off, darling,” said Miller. “It’s your big brother.”
    “It’s so good to hear from you, Harry, I was going to call. I thought you and Sean were still in New York.”
    “What’s happened? Where are you?”
    “I’m at the hospital here in Cambridge.”
    “For God’s sake, tell me, Monica.”
    “There was a faculty party at a hotel outside Cambridge last night. Dear old Professor George Dunkley was desperate to go. I volunteered to drive him there so he could enjoy his port and so on. Six miles out into the countryside, a bloody great truck started to follow us and just stayed on our tail. It didn’t matter what I did, it wouldn’t go away, and then, when we came to a wider section of the road, it came alongside and swerved into us.”
    “Are you okay?”
    “Yes, but George has his left arm broken. We were hurled into a grass verge and crashed against a wall. I called the police on my mobile, and they were there in no time.”
    “And the truck?”
    “Oh, he crashed farther on. They found the wreck, but the driver had cleared off. The police sergeant who’s been dealing with me says the truck was stolen from somewhere in London. George is going to be in hospital for a while. A terrible thing at his age.”
    “And you are coming to Dover Street to stay at the house with me?”
    “That’s sweet of you, Harry, but I’ve got seminars, and there’s my book.”
    “To hell with your seminars, and you can work on your book at Dover Street.”
    “Harry, what’s happening?”
    Dillon cut in. “Monica, my love, listen to the man. It’s no coincidence what’s happened to you. Bad things have been happening to all of us. We need you safe and among friends.”
    Her voice was quiet. “What’s going on, Sean?”
    “I’ll explain when I pick you up,” Miller said. “We should be there in round two hours. Go straight back to your rooms, pack, and don’t go out again.”
    “If you say so,