But Court wasn’t finished. He reached around to the front of the SAD operator’s body, grabbed the man’s belt buckle, feeling for a knife there, then he pulled Travers’s shirt out of his pants and swept his hand up the man’s chest.
Hanging from a chain around Travers’s neck Court found a small blade in a sheath. He yanked the chain, breaking it free, and he threw it into the alley behind him.
Travers grumbled, “That cost me three hundred bucks.”
Court finished the frisk and stepped back. “Bullshit. You can get them for sixty on the Internet.”
“Who are you?”
“Move.”
17
Travers led the way to his building and up his stoop, used a key on his chain to unlock the door, then climbed the stairs and entered his own apartment with a second key.
The space wasn’t large, less than a thousand square feet, and the living room was only twelve by fifteen. Court turned on the overhead, and Travers began moving towards the sofa.
Court stopped him. “Not there. Sit on the mantel in front of the fireplace. Hands on your lap where I can see them.”
Travers did as instructed. Court moved to the couch and, with his gun trained on the other man, yanked up the cushions.
The handle of a sheathed bowie knife jutted out of the corner where the springs met the side of the sofa.
Court pulled out the blade and tossed it on a side table. “You are just full of tricks, aren’t you?”
“And you seem to know every one. Again, who the fuck are you?”
Court sat down in a wicker chair next to the sofa, ten feet away from the man seated on the hearth. He then lowered his neck gaiter and took his hood and his cap off his head.
“Sierra Six?”
“We both know what’s about to happen.”
Travers cocked his head. “Maybe you do, but I don’t have a fuckin’ clue.”
“Sure you do. You’re going to act compliant, wait for me to let my guard down a little, say a bunch of shit about how we used to be buds, and you’re going to look for your opportunity. As soon as you see any chance, you’re going to take it.”
“Why would I—”
“Just know that I’m expecting it, and also know that as soon you fucking flinch, I’m putting three rounds through your heart.”
Travers said, “I don’t know why you think I’m going to attack you, and I sure as fuck don’t know why you are pointing a gun at me.”
“Because you’re SAD, and you have orders to kill me.”
“Kill you? What the hell are you talking about? I haven’t heard your name in years.”
Court was impressed. Travers did a good job selling his story.
“Bullshit.”
“I swear it, man.”
To that Court just replied, “Moscow.”
“Moscow? What about Moscow?”
“Two years ago, a market a couple blocks away from where I was staying. I saw you with another dude, I didn’t know him, but he was a Ground Branch–looking motherfucker. I followed you back to your hotel, the Hilton Leningradskaya, then watched you leave with your partner and four other guys. A full six-man element. I recognized Jenner. I figured him to be the team leader because he’s been around since forever.”
Court could see the wheels turning in Travers’s brain, but to be fair, they turned fast. “Yeah. Okay, we were there. But it didn’t have anything to do with you. Another op. Code worded, so I can’t talk about it.” He paused. Faked a little chuckle. “I didn’t see you at all. That’s a hell of a coincidence, I’ll give you that.”
“You’re full of shit. You guys were on my trail. You ran a full monty surveillance op outside the place I was renting. Bad luck for you that I saw you first and left town before you got set up.” Court smiled. “How long did you guys sit on the location before you realized I’d bugged out?”
Travers said, “Man . . . you’re just paranoid. I’m not after—”
“I know about the shoot on sight. I know Carmichael has JSOC and SAD hunting me all over the world. I know that’s what you were doing in Moscow. The longer you sit here and deny it, the more pissed off I get while pointing a gun at your face. Right now might be a good time to do things to minimize my anger.”
Travers looked like he was going to keep up the ruse, but after a few seconds he deflated, his shoulders drooping. He gave a shrug and a nod. “You win, Gentry.” After another shrug he said, “If it makes you feel any better, I felt bad about it.”
“That’s a huge comfort,” Court said, then added, “asshole.”
“So? What are we doing? What do you want?”
“I want to know why. Why is there a shoot on sight out on me?”
Travers and Gentry made eye contact for several seconds, till Travers asked, “Why are you playing dumb?”
“Because I am dumb. I have a guess, but I don’t know for sure. Tell me.”
“You’re the enemy of the state, not me. Don’t ask me what you did.”
“Come on. They told you why. What did they say?”
Travers heaved his shoulders and closed his eyes. In frustration he said, “Dude, why’d you come back here? What the hell are you trying to accomplish?”
“I’m trying to figure it out. To make it right.”
“Make it right? Jesus H. Christ, you really do not know why they are after you!”