The sum of all fears - Tom Clancy [76]
On the other hand, if that face was what Papanicolaou thought it was, well, then he'd have gotten his third terrorist of the year. Maybe even the fourth. Just because the other one dressed like an American didn't mean he had to be one. Four in just eight months - no, only seven months, the sergeant corrected himself. Not bad for one somewhat eccentric cop who liked to work alone. Papanicolaou allowed his car to close in slightly. He didn't want to lose these fish in traffic.
Russell counted a bunch of cabs. They had to cater to tourists mainly, or other people who didn't care to drive in the local traffic that's odd. It took him a moment to figure why. Oh, sure, he thought, its dome light wasn't on. Only the driver. Most of the others had passengers, but even those without had their dome lights on. It must have been the on-duty light, he judged. But that one's was out. Russell's driver had it easy, taking the next right turn to head down towards what appeared to be something akin to a real highway. Most of the cabs failed to take the turn. Though Russell didn't know it, they were heading either towards museums or shopping areas. But the one with the light out followed them around the corner, fifty yards back.
"We're being followed," Marvin announced quietly. "You have a friend watching our back?"
"No." The driver's eyes immediately went up to the mirror. "Which one do you think it is?"
"I don't "think," sport. It's the taxi fifty yards back, right side, dirty-white, without the dome-light on, I don't know the make of the car. He's made two turns with us. You should pay better attention," Russell added, wondering if this was the trap he feared. He figured he could kill the driver easily enough. A little guy with a skinny neck that he could wring as easily as he killed a mourning dove, yeah, it wouldn't be hard.
"Thank you. Yes, I should " the driver replied, after identifying the cab. And who might you be? We'll see. He made another random turn. It followed.
"You are correct, my friend," the driver said thoughtfully. "How did you know?"
"I pay attention to things."
"So I see this changes our plans somewhat." The driver's mind was racing. Unlike Russell, he knew that he hadn't been set up. Though he had been unable to establish his guest's bonafides, no intelligence or police officer would have given him that warning. Well, probably not, he corrected himself. But there was one way to check that. He was also angry at the Greeks. One of his comrades had disappeared off the streets of Piraeus in April, to turn up in Britain a few days later. That friend was now in Parkhurst Prison on the Isle of Wight. They'd once been able to operate in relative impunity in Greece, most often using the country as a safe transit point. He knew that doing actual operations here had been a mistake - just having the country as a sallyport had been quite valuable enough, an advantage not to be squandered - but that didn't mitigate his anger at the Greek police.
"It may be necessary to do something about this."
Russell's eyes went back to the driver. "I don't have a weapon."
"I do. I would prefer not to use it. How strong are you?"
By way of answering, Russell reached out his left hand and squeezed the driver's right knee.
"You have made your point." the driver said with a level voice. "If you cripple me, I cannot drive. Now, how do we do this? Have you killed before?"
"Yes," Russell lied. He hadn't ever personally killed a man, but he'd killed enough other things. "I can do that."
The driver nodded and increased speed on his way out of town. He had to find
Papanicolaou frowned. They were not heading to the airport. Too bad. Good