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conversations at the many tables. He hadn't been there for more than five minutes when Nazifa arrived fashionably late and with a hop in her step.

She removed one of her dark velvet gloves and offered her hand to James. "Hello, James. How are you?"

He took it gently and let it fall, gesturing to the seat opposite him. She ignored it and decided to sit next to him on the bench instead.

"How good to see you again,” he said. “I heard Ratko wants to talk to me. I suppose it's about Suput."

Nazifa laughed before breaking off and speaking in her native tongue to the bulky waiter who arrived at their table. Soon, two dark Sarajevskis arrived at their table, followed by two cherry rakijas in traditional glasses with a narrow neck and bulbous bottom. James thought they looked like little potion bottles out of some fantasy novel.

"Rakija is something to be enjoyed. You drink real rakija slowly," she announced. "Come, drink."

James and Nazifa raised their glasses and sipped on the rakija. He smacked his lips as the sweet taste tantalised his tongue.

"So, Ratko?" James prompted.

"Oh, yes. Ratko is very angry. He was very angry with me, but I don't care. It made our problem go away. You can't speak to people like Suput. They only understand the language of violence."

"Like debating with the dog after it craps on your carpet?"

Nazifa roared with laughter, her hand lingering on James' thigh for just a moment. "Yes. But Ratko will never understand. He will sulk like a child for some days, but he’ll swallow the medicine."

"Is this the first time it’s happened?"

Nazifa shook her head. "No. He knows he needs us more than we need him. Bosnia will continue its fight with or without him. That’s why he’ll stay quiet."

"Then is there any use in me meeting Ratko at all?"

She shrugged. "Your choice. Drink."

This time they lifted the half-litre jugs of dark beer and swallowed great gulps, leaving them both with little white moustaches. James gulped it down, surprised by the harsh bitterness of the beer.

"Do you have any more work for me?" Nazifa asked.

"No more targets for now. Unless Ratko has something we can act on, we'll have to wait to make our next move."

Nazifa looked disappointed. "I was so excited last time with you. So many good memories of my time in the army came back to my mind. It hasn't been the same since I left. It's why I wanted to work with Ratko."

"Ah. Why did you leave the army? I'm sure you're still young enough to be there now."

She laughed at that. "They made me leave. You see, a man from another unit tried to take advantage of me."

"They made you leave because he tried to take advantage of you. It doesn't sound very fair."

"No, no, it was no problem. He tried to rape me, so I cut him." She made a snipping motion with his fingers. "I cut it off."

James' eyes widened. He didn't know what to say to that.

"So, they made me leave. I said I would never report it in the papers or go to court and they said I could leave without going to jail. It's not so bad, eh?"

"And... and what happened to the guy?"

"I don't care," she shrugged, grabbing her beer again. "It's not so important."

"No, I don't suppose it –" His phone started to ring. "Excuse me, Nazifa."

James took out his smartphone and frowned. Gallagher's name appeared on his screen. He dearly wanted to let it go to voicemail, but he knew he couldn't, not this time.

"Yes?"

"Winchester, I hope this call is not coming at an inappropriate time."

"I would let my own mother choke if it only meant I could listen to your dulcet tones for only a few seconds." James winked at Nazifa.

"That's enough of the sarcasm, Winchester. As you are likely aware, I have been mainly communicating with Wood."

"I hope it's not the morning kind, sir."

"Winchester!" Gallagher boomed. "Enough of the nonsense. There are a number of matters I need to discuss with you. First, did you kill Tomislav Suput earlier this week? Yes or no will suffice."

"No, sir."

"Good. Suput's death has only played into our target's hands. The higher the temperature gets, the greater the chances of a major international crisis. A war will only increase our risk of being exposed, and Kadrić will be far harder to reach. I dearly hope you understand the ramifications of his death. It means we need to act with greater care than ever."

He rolled his eyes. "Yes, sir."

"Secondly, have you been briefed on Finch's findings?"

"About the ambassador, sir?" James chose his words carefully. "Yes, I have. Sinclair will prepare the next stages of the plan. As of now, we don't know where his allegiances lie."

"I understand that. Under no circumstances, Winchester, are you permitted to liquidate him. You are expressly prohibited from doing anything that could harm him, let alone kill him. This will not change, regardless of where his allegiances lie. I'm sure you do not need a lecture as to why."

James gritted his teeth. He knew killing a public figure like an ambassador would generate a huge amount of fallout, but he couldn't agree to Gallagher's request. If someone had a free pass, he was powerless to achieve anything. He crossed his fingers.

"Of course, sir. I will never do anything to harm him... under any circumstances."

"Excellent. I am pleased that you seem ready and able to follow orders. Perhaps I may be able to put my trust in you going forwards. If you keep that trust, it will give you access to far more lucrative projects with considerably less risk in future. Do we understand each other?"

"We do, sir," James replied, knowing full well Gallagher would never

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