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he was convinced Nazifa had James squashed under her thumb.

"Sir?" Sinclair spoke into the phone.

"Wood, I received confirmation from Mr. Heranda that Sadik KadriΔ‡ is dead. The contract is complete. Congratulations. I would like to commend you on your speed and diligence. Your bonus has been approved and I can assure you that this will be your final operation in the field, if that’s still what you want."

Sinclair released a thin smile. "Thank you, sir." He got up from his computer and began to pace the corridor. The lacquered floor squeaked underneath his shoes as he passed the same panoramic picture of Sarajevo on the wall. "Did Mr. Heranda tell you how Kadrić died?"

"He did. I must admit we got lucky with that one. I'm sure it was the easiest target of your career."

"James is bothered by it. Plemenac usurped Kadrić's position and, presumably, is now the leader of the nationalists. He's concerned that the situation hasn't changed, and the chances of war are the same as before, if not higher, due to Plemenac's greater freedom through his diplomatic immunity."

"Are you concerned about it?"

He stopped and brushed the corner of the picture frame with his fingernail. "To tell you the truth, sir, no, I'm not. I've tried to explain to James that this has nothing to do with us. That we were contracted to eliminate Kadrić and nothing more, but he won't listen. He's determined to stay."

"I did give him permission to eliminate Mlakar if he so chooses, but I did not give him authorisation to take the matter with the nationalists further. When will you be leaving?"

"Three days from now. Then I'll return to London."

"Good man. You're a practical individual, which is why I've offered you the pick of intelligence positions. I would argue that you have been overlooked for too long, and I can only apologise for that."

Sinclair beamed. He'd always bristled at being overlooked, always ignored despite his long years of service. He'd already been a veteran by the time James joined the organisation. Yet still he remained in place, taking the same risks and receiving the same pay.

"Thank you, sir," said Sinclair. "I'm worried about James, though. He's going to get himself killed."

Gallagher's voice remained steady and even. "Why do you believe Winchester is so enamoured with defending Bosnian liberty? Judging by his file, he has never been a political man."

"The girl. Nazifa Aleksi."

"I see. Go on."

"He meets her constantly. She is a fanatical Bosnian nationalist in the same way as Kadrić was for the Bosnian-Serb side."

"Is she beautiful?"

Sinclair clicked his tongue as he thought about it. "In some people's eyes, sir. I cannot say she would be my type. Bright purple hair has never done anything for me."

Gallagher let out one of this rare chuckles, steely and robotic. "Would you say he has been manipulated successfully?"

"I would, sir. He is unable to think straight when it comes to her. If she were removed, I would judge that James would leave with me. She's not leading him anywhere good. Of course, that's just my personal opinion."

"Understood." The clicking of a keyboard sounded in the background. "Wood, I have taken the liberty of having our intelligence department perform some research into Miss Aleksi. I must admit, I was surprised by their findings. She was discharged from the military due to a violent incident, which, while not of particular interest, is an indicator of character."

"Sir?"

"If you consider it for the greater good to have her removed, I will continue."

Sinclair agonised over what he was about to say. His mind played a lightning-fast round of devil's advocate. If his friend had fallen for a girl, didn't he owe it to him to stand aside and encourage him? Alternatively, if he believed it would lead to trouble, didn't he also have an obligation to do what was best for him?

"I do, sir." Sinclair cringed. It sounded like a death sentence.

"Very well. I will have the order drawn up today." He sighed. "Also, I regret to inform you that Miss Aleksi has a girlfriend."

"What? What did you say?”

"It appears to be true. Our agents managed to procure some private, rather intimate, photographs taken quite recently. The woman's name is Jasmina Velic, also of Sarajevo."

"That can't be possible."

"And why not?"

Sinclair couldn't make the words with his tongue. "It... we would have noticed, surely."

"Not necessarily. These rather intimate photographs show otherwise. We compared her face in these with the most current images of Miss Aleksi we could find. Whether they remain a couple is unknown, but these photographs must have been taken within the last two to three years."

Sinclair reached out for a stool. His legs crumbled out from under him. He knew what this meant. Nazifa wasn't who she purported to be. She'd used her looks, her Balkan beauty, to wrap James around her little finger. A trained contract killer like James would be very useful to her in the short-term for crippling the Bosnian-Serb nationalist leadership. She was using him.

"Sir, eliminate her. James will never believe us with his state of mind. If she's dead, he'll move on like he has with women in the past."

"And her girlfriend?"

Sinclair slapped his thigh. "James doesn't know who she is. There's no reason to bring her into this."

"Very well, Wood. The order is confirmed. Keep an eye on Winchester until we can get him safely out of the country."

"Sir, one other thing. I don't want to hear about how Maugham does it. Just brief me when it's over."

"Confirmed, Wood."

Chapter Forty-Seven

James felt his phone vibrating in his pocket. He picked it out and released an expression of disgust when he saw Gallagher's number. Depositing it back in his pocket, he ignored the angry vibrations from London as he continued to puff away

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