Chapter Thirty-One
Novikov watched the events unfold from his viewpoint at a tea shop farther down the row with a seething anger.
This was why he hated working with amateurs.
The outcomes could be unpredictable, although in this case it was hardly their fault.
This was twice now that he had seen Wilde in action, and his training and experience were evident.
The man was a killer. It was unfortunate, but not insurmountable.
More deeply troubling was that Wilde had managed to put together a whole team of similar individuals.
The SAS veteran, Walton, had been an obstacle.
But now there were two additional men who had joined him.
While he didn’t have their backgrounds, the former Spetsnaz soldier could assume they were from the special operations world as well, particularly given the display put on by the redheaded savage who had shown up in the nick of time, and the overall demeanor of the big man with the misshapen nose and cauliflower ears.
Wilde now had a whole team of operators with him, which made things considerably more difficult.
Novikov had watched as they fought off the assassins he hired, and received notification that two more of the Muslim Brotherhood members had been taken out as well during Wilde’s exit from the area.
Fortunately, Novikov had stayed in the shadows.
He was dealing with a different kind of threat now and needed more information.
He watched them leave the market and tailed them back to their hotel.
Now he would watch them like a hawk to see what their next move would be.
He had wondered if Wilde was using the cover of being a graduate student for some other purpose, though his sources checked out that he was enrolled at Harvard University.
These seemed like extraordinary lengths to go to for graduate research, let alone for other men to join in on the insanity.
He had seen Wilde’s file and he wasn’t rich.
He couldn’t afford to pay these men. None of it made sense, unless there was something more to it.
Unless they had ulterior motives. Then again, none of it needed to make sense.
As long as Novikov’s employers were paying him, he would see the operation through, even though it was becoming increasingly difficult.
Perhaps it was time to bring in additional help.
Wilde may have had some loyal friends, but Novikov had a long list of acquaintances, and the means to pay them for their assistance.
He had spent two decades in the army working with some very rough individuals, and many of them were now available for hire.
He decided that if Wilde and his friends made a move for the Empty Quarter, then he would start making calls.
He would use an overabundance of caution, not willing to underestimate his target for a third time.
The open desert, where there were no laws, no contingencies, and no bystanders to fret over, would be Wilde’s tomb.