The Phoenix

‘You know I could kill you?’

‘You could try,’ said Mood.

This seemed to amuse Makis. He spun around, smiling broadly. ‘You don’t think I could succeed? I have ten, armed, former Mossad agents on this property, ready to put a bullet in your brain at a snap of my fingers!’

The big man shrugged. His indifference to his own life and safety was impressive, and obviously utterly genuine. ‘I need to know where she is,’ he explained matter-of-factly. ‘I need to try again.’

‘Yes, well. Thanks to your failure at the convent, I don’t know where she is,’ said Makis, a sharper edge creeping into his tone. He wasn’t about to tell Salim the truth, or share any more intelligence with him about Athena’s whereabouts after the last debacle. ‘And even if I did, what makes you think I’d trust you to kill her? You had your chance, Salim. I have other men, better-trained men—’

‘No.’ Mood’s voice was firm rather than angry, but it boomed around the room, ricocheting like a bullet off the wood-paneled walls. ‘I will do it. I will kill her. My girls cannot rest in peace until I do.’

Makis slammed his fist down on the desk so hard he could have cracked it. ‘What the hell happened at the convent?’ he demanded. ‘What went wrong?’

For the first time, a pained look came over the giant Arab’s impassive face, a flash of the anguish that drove him. He seemed to want to explain, but was struggling to find the words.

‘Let’s walk and talk,’ said Makis. ‘We’ll go to my private beach.’

Opening his desk drawer, he pulled out a gun and a silencer, tucking both into the waistband of his pants with no more ceremony than if he were grabbing a packet of tissues or a box of breath mints. Once again, though, if Mood was intimidated he didn’t show it, nodding silently as he walked ahead of Mak out of the door.

The two men proceeded in silence through the villa’s gardens and down the winding, private steps to the sand. Mood couldn’t see the security detail watching them, guns poised, but he knew they were there. He also knew that once they rounded the headland to the next cove, if Mak took him that far, that they would be out of sight and out of range. He wondered how many souls, men and women, Makis Alexiadis had killed on this beach, dispatching them to their maker with no more qualms of conscience than if he were shooting a duck or a deer? If what Mood had heard was true, this windswept strip of white sand was where he came to be alone and to indulge his pleasures. To walk. To think. To make love. To kill.

But none of that mattered.

Only Athena Petridis mattered.

As they walked, Makis asked again what had happened at the convent. And this time Mood answered, explaining calmly how there had been a diversion: a girl. And afterwards how a priest had come in and spirited ‘Sister Elena’ away before he’d had time to act decisively; how he’d lost her in the endless maze of ancient passages that led from the nuns’ cells down to the beach.

‘I wanted to hear her admit what she’d done,’ he told Makis, his voice trembling. ‘I needed to hear her say it. But she wouldn’t.’

‘You wasted time,’ Makis responded angrily as they rounded the headland. ‘I told you to do it the second you were alone with her.’

‘I know.’ Mood hung his head. ‘It was a mistake.’ Looking up he added, ‘I won’t make it twice.’

‘No,’ agreed Makis. ‘You won’t.’

In one swift, seamless moment, he pulled the gun from his waistband, spun around and pointed the barrel right between Mood’s eyes. He waited for the big man to flinch or cringe or close his eyes. To exhibit any natural instinct in the face of imminent death. But instead Mahmoud just stood there, unblinking, unruffled. His breath didn’t even quicken.

Perfect. This was the kind of man who could finish Athena Petridis.

He lowered the gun. Smiling, he handed it to Mood. Then, reaching down again, he passed him the silencer. ‘Do you know how to use one of these?’

Mood shook his head. ‘A silencer, yes. But not this model.’

Taking back the Ruger, Makis attached the shining silver cylinder to the barrel with expert fingers, then removed it again before handing both pieces back to Mood. ‘Now you try.’

Mood followed Alexiadis’s lead, screwing on the silencer with no difficulty.

‘Good.’ Makis nodded approvingly. ‘Athena made contact with me this morning. Unfortunately, she survived a second assassination attempt in London and has since gone to ground. However, the good news is she has no evidence to link either operation with me – London or Sikinos – so we’re still in contact over business matters, albeit sporadically.’

‘Where is she now?’ asked Mood, fingering the gun lovingly.

‘I’m not certain yet. But I hope to have a confirmed location soon, some time in the coming days. In the meantime you need to eat, sleep and train. Hard. You can do all of that here.’

‘Thank you,’ Mood murmured, still mesmerized by the gun in his hands.

‘For what?’

‘For giving me another chance.’