Oxley frowned. “Bloody hell, what for?”
So Sacha told him, and after fifteen minutes of speaking, even Oxley had to admit that the KGB man knew how to turn a situation to his own advantage. What a player!
Finally, they had a gentleman"s agreement and the outline of a plan. “I"ll give you thirty minutes with him, but if he refuses then that"s down to him. We have no control over whatever else the assassin does or doesn"t do.”
“Agreed, but don"t worry,” said Sacha Krylov, smiling. “I can be very persuasive.”
* * *
Gorilla walked through the rain-spattered darkness of Paris. The streets had a sort of final desperation to them, almost like a dying animal that was trying to hold onto the last slithers of its feral territory. He could sense death. It was in the shops and stores, in the face
