The Gilgamesh Conspiracy Read Online Free Page B

the continuing build-up of American and Allied troops along the Iraqi border as the crisis escalated towards a probable invasion, the guards were taking no chances, although Gerry could not imagine what she might take out of the embassy that would cause any security problem. She watched Baxter collide with the side of the archway as he staggered through and saw the security man shake his head in disgust. She walked through herself, said a quick ‘good night’ and then followed him outside.
    In the car park she watched Baxter walk unsteadily to his car and fumble in his pocket, and then she heard a metallic clink as his keys fell to the ground and heard him grunt as he bent down to find them. ‘Hi Laurence, are you ok?’ she called out.
    He looked around and gave her a bleary grin. ‘Oh, hi Emily. Just dropped m’keys; they’re round here somewhere.’ He stared vaguely about, then leant against the car and groaned.
    ‘You’re in no state to drive,’ Gerry declared. ‘Look I’ll take you home.’ She bent down and found his keys under the adjacent car.
    ‘Thass great; give’m me; m’ok really.’
    ‘I’ll give them back to you when we get to your place. Now get in my car.’ After a couple of minute’s effort she had the drunken man slumped in the passenger seat of her borrowed car. ‘So where do you live?’ Gerry asked.
    ‘Take the First Ring Road’, he mumbled.
    ‘Ok,’ Gerry replied and set off towards his apartment. She was fully aware of its location having already spent several hours searching through it when Baxter was at work. Years ago her service would be worried about an individual such as Baxter revealing military secrets to the communist bloc, but now Gerry was merely ensuring that her country’s exports of military equipment to the Gulf States were not being jeopardised.
    ‘Maybe you’d better call Sandy, tell her you’ll be home soon,’ she suggested.
    ‘Still be at Canadian…Canadian embassy party I’spect.’
    Through her contact in the Canadian embassy, Gerry knew that Lyudmila Yakutina also known as Sandy Dempster had left two hours ago.
    ‘She’s a lovely girl, Sandy. Have you known her long?’ she asked.
    ‘Bout six months.’ That was accurate. From the selection of women’s clothing in Baxter’s apartment Gerry also knew that Yakutina often spent the night there.
    ‘I wonder how many generations of her family have been in Canada. She looks sort of Ukrainian I reckon. Long blonde hair. She looks like one of those tennis players. You know the Russian ones. Maybe her family’s from Russia…originally.’
    ‘Er…I d’know. She’s from Toronto,’ Baxter mumbled. He looked around and recognised where they were. ‘S’next right.’
    Gerry pulled up beside the small apartment block. Baxter climbed out and fumbled for his keys.
    ‘I’ve got them, remember?’ said Gerry rattling them in front of his face. He grinned at her and then took them.
    ‘Thanks for the lift,’ he said, ‘I’ll be alright now.’
    ‘I need to use your bathroom, if you don’t mind,’ said Gerry.
    ‘Oh! Well come on in then.’
    She followed him up the stairs to the large, three bedroomed first floor apartment provided at the UK taxpayers’ expense.
    ‘You’re late!’ snapped a woman’s voice in a Canadian accent, and as she followed him through the door Gerry recognised the blonde haired attractive woman, aged about thirty who had jumped up from her seat. ‘Oh!’ she added when she saw Gerry just behind Baxter.
    ‘Hello, Happy New Year! Delighted to meet you,’ Gerry called out and noted the woman’s mouth about to form some words but then her expression changed from a curious frown, to a forced smile and she said ‘Happy New Year!’ in return.
    ‘I’m Emily Stevens, a colleague of Laurence’s,’ Gerry continued. ‘He’s a bit pissed so I brought him home. You must be Sandy.’
    ‘Yuh I’m Sandy,’ she replied. ‘Thanks for bringing him back.’ She had recovered