Iris Johansen - Chasing the Night

He nodded. “If they’re not too afraid to talk. Rakovac still has both friends and enemies in that area.”

“Can you call them?”

He shook his head. “I have to see them in person. It’s the only way I can judge whether they’re lying to me. I have friends and enemies there, too. Most of them in the village of Svedrun, near the marsh. I can’t always tell which ones have crossed over to Rakovac’s camp. Time and money change everything. Men who swore that they’d hate Rakovac to the day they died for betraying me are working for him now.” He shrugged. “I think I’d know if they were lying to me if we were face-to-face. I’ll have to see.” He poured coffee into the cups on the tray. “I suggest we drink our coffee and head for bed. We’ll start out for Svedrun in the morning.”

“I’m coming with you,” Natalie said.

He shook his head. “Not this time.” He lifted his cup. “I promised you that I’d give you Rakovac, but we’re not close enough.”

“I want to-”

“No,” he said. “Don’t argue, Natalie.”

She opened her lips to protest, then closed them again.

Catherine turned back to Eve. “Is there anything else?”

Eve glanced down at the e-mail. “Just references and sources they used. The institute is nothing if not meticulous.”

“But efficient,” Catherine said. “Why can’t we leave tonight, Kelsov?”

“I have a few calls to make to prepare the way. I want to switch cars halfway to Svedrun. I don’t believe my vehicle has been traced to me, but I don’t want to take chances when we’re going into what might be Rakovac territory. As I said, he has spies and contacts all over Russia.” He paused. “I know you’re in a hurry, Catherine. But I won’t risk our necks unless I have to do it.” He turned to Natalie. “Show Eve and Joe to my bedroom. Catherine can sleep with you. I’ll bed out here on the couch tonight. Tomorrow I’ll put up a cot in the barn.”

Natalie got to her feet. “I’ll bring you some linens.” She looked at Eve and Joe. “If you’ll follow me?”

Eve closed the computer and got to her feet. “Thank you.” She asked Kelsov, “What time in the morning?”

“Six.” He turned to Catherine. “Is that good enough?”

“If it has to be.” Catherine moved toward the door. “You go with Natalie, Eve. Kelsov, come and help me bring in our suitcases.”

“I’ll come out and help,” Joe offered.

Catherine shook her head. “Get Eve settled. Kelsov is always bragging how strong he got working in that labor camp in Siberia. Let him prove it. I’ll load him down like a pack mule.”

“I believe she’s a bit irritated because I’m asking her to wait for morning,” Kelsov said as he followed Catherine. “But it’s no punishment. I’m far stronger than any pack mule.”

“I told you he bragged a lot,” Catherine said as she opened the front door. “I’ll have your cases to you in a few minutes.”

Natalie stared after her an instant before she opened the bedroom door. “She’s so…strong. Not in body, but in other ways. As strong as he is. He likes that.” She stepped aside and gestured. “I changed the linens when Kelsov told me he was bringing guests. There’s only one bathroom in the house, and it’s off the living room. Tell me if you need anything.”

“We’ll be fine, Natalie,” Eve said. “Catherine will bring us a toothbrush and anything else we need.” She glanced around the room. It was very simply furnished, with only a double bed covered with a dark cotton spread and an oak nightstand. Everything in the room appeared spotlessly clean. “It looks very comfortable. Good night.” She turned to Joe after Natalie left the room. “You were quiet at dinner. What were you thinking?”

“I was thinking I don’t like this damn lack of control.” He made a face. “Kelsov is a little too domineering for my taste.”

“And you don’t trust him.”

He shrugged. “He’s an unknown quantity. Catherine trusts him…within limits. I’d just as soon make my own judgments.”

“You always do. But he seems to be in control at present.”

“Then it might be a good idea to do something to shift the balance.”

Eve’s eyes narrowed on his face. “We do need him, Joe.”

“I’m not saying that I’m ready to eliminate him from the picture.” He smiled. “I’m just analyzing the situation, Eve.”

But Joe was probing, weighing options, and that often translated into action. She had known when she had first seen Kelsov that Joe would be wary of him. He didn’t entirely trust arrogance or flamboyance, and Kelsov certainly had both.

“Stop frowning.” He touched her cheek. “I’m not going to cause any trouble. I’m just going to keep my eye on Kelsov.” He turned toward the bed. “Now I think I’ll stretch out. You use the bathroom first, and I’ll bring you your robe when Catherine comes back with the cases.”

“We think Catherine Ling has left Atlanta,” Russo said as he came into the study. “Or, at least, Duncan’s lake cottage. Our agent was able to get close again earlier today, and the cottage appears to be deserted.”

Rakovac leaned back in his chair. “No Duncan either?”

Russo shook his head. “And he checked with the ATLPD, and Joe Quinn has taken a leave of absence.”

He smiled with satisfaction. “Then I believe we can assume that Catherine has taken the bait and jerked Eve Duncan into the whirlpool with her. We should be hearing something from our Catherine shortly.” And that meant that the final stage of his personal game had been put in place. But it had to coincide with the grand scheme with Dabala for the timing to be perfect. “Did you check the bank? Has Ali Dabala sent the first installment?”

Russo shook his head. “He said he and his group want to see proof of your efficiency. It’s a lot of money. How does he know that you won’t disappear and leave him looking the fool?”

Rakovac scowled. He’d known that Ali would balk at the down payment, but he’d hoped he was desperate enough to come through with it anyway. Evidently, that wasn’t going to happen.

“What are you going to do?” Russo asked.

“Give him what he wants. It’s not as if I’m not prepared.” He flipped open his desk drawer and pulled out the schedule. Ten positive hits. Three alternates if those didn’t come through. Two other cities far from the main target area.

One in Istanbul, Turkey.

One in Lima, Peru.

He pondered the two cities. It felt a little godlike to be able to lift his finger and decide if thousands of people were going to die.

Russo moistened his lips. “Which one?”

“Either would do. They’re both on different continents from the U.S. and wouldn’t arouse too much outrage. The Americans always claim to be horrified at another country’s disasters, but if it doesn’t touch them, they have a certain remoteness. They wouldn’t recognize it as a threat to them.”

“Venable would recognize it.”

“But he wouldn’t be able to convince anyone else.”

“So which one?”

His hand hesitated over the Istanbul page, then flipped open the Lima file.

The face in the photo was of a man his late forties, slightly plump, with silver frosting his temples.

“Pedro Gonzalez,” Rakovac said. “Gate agent. Vantaro Airlines. Wife and three children. Are we ready for him?”

“We’re ready.”

“Then tell Dabala to get one of his men down to Lima, and we’ll have his documents and his flight arranged. All he has to worry about is whether his man has the nerve to pull the trigger. Or, in this case, go to his precious paradise.” His lips tightened. “And the minute it happens, I want a wire in my bank account for the $3 million.”