“Even speak the language passably,” replied Shaw.
“Goody for you.”
Whit made arrangements to meet one of their people who had the fake documents they would need to get out of the country.
“Okay, that’s done. Now what?”
“Just sit back and relax.”
Whit kept his gun in his hand. “And after Reims?”
“Since we can’t risk an airport, the Chunnel train to St. Pancras is the most direct route. That’s why we need passports. If that doesn’t pan out we head east and work our way across the Channel by boat. Maybe from Belgium or Amsterdam.”
“Passport Control is pretty tight at Gare du Nord,” pointed out Reggie.
“It is, but airport security is a lot tighter. And there’re fewer ways out of an airport if things go bad. And most of them take you through lots of armed guys in uniforms.”
“Okay, the train. And after that?”
“We’ll play it by ear.”
“Who are you with?” asked Reggie as she leaned forward from the rear seat.
“I’m with Frank back there on the plane. That’s pretty much all you need to know.”
“So you’re cops,” said Whit.
“I wouldn’t describe it that way, no.”
“Spies.”
“No comment.”
“What’s left?”
“Me.”
Whit grinned and looked at Reggie. “The big guy is growing on me, Reg. He really is. Now here’s the deal, Shaw army of one. If we get to England safe and sound you’re going to go your way and we’re going ours.”
“Who’s going to protect you against, what was his name, Kuchin?”
“You obviously don’t know who that is,” said Reggie.
“Should I?”
“There was a man named Mykola Shevchenko. KGB. He’s known as the Butcher of Kiev, but Kuchin was his top assistant, and he was the man who slaughtered hundreds of thousands of innocent people in the most brutal ways possible. Shevchenko was executed by firing squad after the Wall fell, but Kuchin got away.”
“I guess history only remembers the top guy, not the ones running around pulling the triggers,” said Shaw. “So you were going after the guy for that. What’s your connection? Some of you Ukrainian?”
“Yeah, on my mother’s side,” said Whit with a smirk. “And to answer your other question, we can protect ourselves.”
Shaw eyed him skeptically. “You’ve done a hell of a job of it so far.”
“Sometimes plans go awry, things don’t work, the unexpected occurs.”
“Come on! It was a cock-up from start to finish,” fired back Shaw.
Whit snapped, “Well, you blokes were here to nail him too and then you pulled out without even taking a shot. At least we tried.”