Ghost Sniper

33

The next night, Gil called Pope on his satellite phone. He had intentionally waited to respond to Midori’s message regarding the CIA director’s desire to talk, wanting Pope to realize that he was no longer at his beck and call.

Pope answered on the second ring. “I was beginning to worry.”

“Midori said low priority, and I’ve been a little busy.”

“I imagine you have.” Pope chuckled softly. “How are you?”

“I don’t know. I’ve been doing a lot of thinking recently. I might be finished, Bob.”

After a slight pause, Pope said, “I guess she must be something.”

There was a note to Pope’s tone that Gil didn’t care for. “She is, and nothing had better fucking happen to her.”

Pope’s response was immediate and uncharacteristically indignant: “What’s that supposed to mean?”

“Just what I said.”

“Gil, you’re getting paranoid.”

“Maybe I am,” he admitted. “I’ve got Russians following me all over Germany. There are two outside in the street right now. Where the hell are they getting their intel?”

“You know damn well they’re not getting it from me.”

Gil lit a cigarette. He understood that it wasn’t fair taking out his frustrations on Pope, but he didn’t care. He was too full of guilt, anxiety — and, yes, paranoia. “You dropped the ball in Lichtenstein, Bob. I had no advance warning they were there. If it hadn’t been for Lena, they’d have fed me my balls.”

“Gil, you can’t expect me to keep tabs on every Russian mobster in Europe. You knew they were hunting you — and I do have other operators to look after these days.”

“Yeah, I know,” Gil said. “I met one of them the other night.”

Pope fell silent as a tomb.

Gil sat calmly, smoking, waiting him out.

“So it was you,” Pope said at length.

“I need Blickensderfer taken off the list, Bob.”

“To keep Lena happy?”

“To help keep my ass alive. I need him as an asset.”

Pope sighed. “I think you should come in. Bring Lena back to the US with you. Take all the time off you need, but do it here in the States, where I can look after you correctly.”

“I’m going to China.”

“China?” This obviously threw Pope for a loop. “Gil, China is crawling with Russians. What are you going to do in China?”

“Base jump the Dragon Wall.” The Dragon Wall was a mountain in China where people came from all over the world to do extreme BASE jumps. Gil intentionally did not mention the wing suit aspect.

Once again, Pope was left momentarily nonplussed, asking at last, “Is this some kind of phase you’re going through?”

“I need an entirely new Canadian passport,” Gil added. “A new name. And I need it within forty-eight hours.”

“Gil, I don’t think—”

“Just make it happen, Bob. I’m asking you for a goddamn favor. And take Blickensderfer off the list so I don’t have to kill any more of your sloppy ATRU operators.”

“You have to know you’ll never make it out of China alive, Gil. Do you have a death wish now? Is that what this is about?”

Gil ignored the question, aware that Pope was back on his heels and wanting to keep him there. “China was supposed to be a one-way trip for me the last time I was there, but here I sit. Are you still looking after Marie for me?”

“You know the answer to that.”

“Good. You can have the passport delivered to Lena’s place in Bern. We have a couple more jumps to make here in Hamburg before we head back to Switzerland. We leave for China in three days.”

“Gil, I don’t believe you’re going base jumping. Tell me what’s in China.”

Gil exhaled smoke through his nostrils, crushing out the cigarette in an ashtray beside him on the bed. “Normally your suspicions would be right on target, partner, but not this time. I’ve decided to jump the Dragon Wall, and that’s what I aim to do. I’ll send you the GoPro footage.”

He was off the phone a few seconds later. Lena stood against the wall with her arms folded. “We’re not really going to China, are we?”

“Yes, we are.”

“And when did you make that decision?”

“Yesterday — not long after the first jump.”

“But the Lauterbrunnen jump is almost as intense as the Dragon Wall. It’s also right here in Europe, where there’s a lot less danger to you. We can handle the Russians down in the street. They’re not going to do anything in broad daylight, and back in Switzerland they can’t touch you.”

He put out his arms, allowing her to walk into them. “Were you serious yesterday — what you said about us moving forward together?”

She gently took hold of the hair at the back of his head. “You know I was.”

“Then we have to go China. It’s the only place Pope can’t follow me.”