Radiant Angel by Nelson Demille

Author:Nelson Demille [Demille, Nelson]
Language: eng
Format: epub, mobi
Tags: Literature & Fiction, Action & Adventure, Mystery; Thriller & Suspense, Thriller & Suspense, Literary, Thrillers & Suspense, Spies & Politics, Political, Literary Fiction, Thrillers
Amazon: B00NERQRC6
Publisher: Grand Central Publishing
Published: 2015-05-26T05:00:00+00:00

CHAPTER TWENTY-TWO

Vasily Petrov slung his submachine gun over his shoulder and went first to the captain’s quarters, then to the ship’s office where he had dragged the bodies from the bridge, and shut off the lights, barely noticing the corpses as he thought about Gleb the man and Gleb the bearer of bad news.

As for Gleb the man, Petrov had expected a strong personality—Gleb was a ship’s captain and a commander of men, and he had agreed to this dangerous mission. As for Gleb’s suspicion that the Americans were looking for The Hana, Petrov did not believe that. And regarding Gleb’s other paranoia—that Petrov was going to kill him—well, that was understandable, though ironically it was not true, though it could become true.

Petrov drew his Makarov pistol and took the spiral staircase down to the salon, noting the location of the fourteen bodies on the floor so he could step around them when all the lights were out.

He also noted the bullet wound in Tasha’s heart, and this made him think again of her caterer friend at Tamorov’s house.

Even if this man, Depp, was an embassy watcher, how could he connect the amphibious craft and its occupants to The Hana?

Petrov had told Tamorov that they were going to a party in East Hampton and would return in the morning. So even if the FBI questioned Tamorov, that was all Tamorov knew. And if there was some suspicion that the amphibious craft had sailed out to meet a ship, how would anyone know which ship? And if the Americans were looking for the amphibious craft, they would not see it on the water or on the deck of a ship.

Petrov switched on his flashlight and began shutting off the lights in the salon. Outside, the deck lights were going off, and he could feel the vibration as Gleb started the ship’s engines.

He went outside and descended the exterior staircase to the main deck. He could now hear the sound of an anchor being raised. They would soon be underway.

Petrov moved to the stern where the prince’s ensign flew from a staff, and he drew his knife and cut the flag loose, letting it fall into the sea.

He looked out over the stern, noting that the fog was low, barely reaching the main deck. The sky was clear and the half-moon was overhead. Out in the distance to the south he could see ship lights—tankers and cargo ships—waiting in a line that stretched for over a hundred miles from the open ocean to the security checkpoint at Ambrose Buoy, which was ten nautical miles from the entrance to New York Harbor.

It must be frustrating, he thought, for those ships’ captains and crews to sail halfway around the world at good speed, only to be slowed to a crawl at this bottleneck; very unlike incoming aircraft that needed to land on time. And yet for all the Americans’ obsession with airport security and efficiency, they had still not perfected seaport security or efficiency. And thus a ship with evil intent could slip through.

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