State of Siege - Tom Clancy [62]
New York, New York Saturday, 11:28 P.m.
Georgiev was standing near the opening of the circular table in the Security Council chamber. He had been keeping an eye on the delegates and also on his watch. The other men were still guarding the doors, except for Barone. The Uruguayan was kneeling in the center of the room, just before the gallery, looking down. When two minutes remained until the next deadline, the Bulgarian turned and nodded at Downer.
The Australian had been pacing slowly by the northern door of the upper gallery. He had been watching Georgiev. When he got the signal, he started down the stairs.
Several of the men and women sitting on the floor inside the table began to whimper. Georgiev hated weakness. So he raised his automatic and pointed it at one of the women. He used to do that with his girls in Cambodia. Whenever one or more of them came and threatened to expose him because she was being treated poorly or was being paid less than he'd promised, Georgiev wouldn't say a word. He'd simply point a gun at her head. It never failed: Every opening in her face-her eyes, nose, and mouth-would gape and freeze there. Then Georgiev would speak: "If you complain to me again, 1 will kill you," he'd say. "If you try to leave, I will kill you and your family." They never complained after that. Out of the more than one hundred girls who had worked for him during the year his ring operated, he'd only had to shoot two of them. Everyone on the floor stopped sobbing. Georgiev lowered the gun. There were still tears but no more sounds. Downer was nearly at the bottom of the stairs when Georgiev saw the light on the TACSAT flash. He was surprised. He had spoken to Annabelle Hampton an hour ago, when she let him know that the secretary-general intended to try to negotiate. For a moment, Georgiev wondered if Downer's fears were going to be realized and security forces would try to move in. But that wasn't possible. The UN wouldn't risk it. He walked to the phone.
Annabelle Hampton had been Georgiev's riskiest but most important acquisition. From the time they had first met in Cambodia, Annabelle had impressed him as a determined and independent woman. She was in Phnom Penh recruiting HUMINT and personnel for the CIA. Georgiev provided her with intelligence his girls obtained from their customers. He also gave her intel he picked up from his own Khmer Rouge contacts. Though he was paying the rebels and getting paid to spy on them, he actually made a small personal profit on the arrangement.
When the UNTAC operation ended in 1993, Georgiev sought Annabelle out in order to sell her the names of the girls he'd been using. Learning she'd been transferred to Seoul, he contacted her there. Annabelle seemed more angry than ambitious by then. When he mentioned that he was leaving the army to go into business, she half-joked that he should keep her in mind if he heard of any interesting opportunities.
He did.
Up until this afternoon, when Annabelle gave Georgiev the detailed timetable for tonight's United Nations event, he wondered if she was going to rack out. He was confident she wouldn't betray him because he knew where her parents lived; he'd made a point of sending them flowers while Annabelle was visiting there for Christmas. Still, the final hours before any mission are what the great nineteenth-century Bulgarian General Grigor Halachev used to call "the times of gravest doubt." That's when the external plans are finally set, and soldiers had a chance to examine their internal condition.
Annabelle had not backed down. She had as much steel in her as any soldier in this room.
He picked up the phone. "Speak," he said. That was the only word Annabelle had been told to respond to. "The secretary-general is on her way again," Ani informed him. "Only this time, she's planning to cotta; into the Security Council chamber. She hopes you'll take her in."
Georgiev smiled.
"Either that," Ani said, "or she hopes you'll target her instead of the Italian delegate."
"Pacifists