Iris Johansen - Chasing the Night

“Are you saying she’s nuts?”

“I’m saying that obsession can sometimes make people unbalanced.”

“Unbalanced,” she repeated. “That’s a polite way of saying nuts. And you expect me to deal with her? Oh no, she’s one of your people. You take care of it. My schedule is jam-packed. I have no time for this.”

“I told you, I’m out of it. It’s between the two of you now.”

“You said you didn’t want to turn me over to the wolf. You were talking about her, weren’t you?”

“Yes, I should have said she-wolf, shouldn’t I? I was hoping to persuade you to do the job and not have any contact with her. It would have been better for you.”

“I’m not going to have any contact with that woman. As soon as I can, I’m going to send her on her way.”

“I hope you do turn her down. I made a bargain with her, but I’m backpedaling as fast as I can. If she gets what she wants, she’s going to cause me a lot of headaches.”

“I don’t care about your bargains. If you’re not going to help, tell me how to make her leave.”

“Listen to her. Say no. Make her believe it. She’s no real threat. Not to you.”

“Easy words. She’s not easy. I can tell.”

“Oh, you recognized a kindred spirit? I admit I noticed a few similarities myself.”

She ignored those words. “Tell me how to get through to her. I have to know about her if I’m going to find a way to handle her. Tell me about Catherine Ling.”

“How much?”

“Everything.”

“I don’t know everything. I had to depend on Catherine to tell me about her early years. There weren’t any records. She’s illegitimate. Her father was an American soldier based in Saigon. Her mother was a half-Korean, half-Russian prostitute and took Catherine to Hong Kong when she was four. She died two years later, and Catherine was left alone to try to survive on the streets. She survived very well. She was smart, and her instincts were excellent. Some of the things she learned during those years were amazing, and completely illegal and immoral.”

“Considering how she broke into my house that doesn’t surprise me.”

“Anyway, she managed to sort it all out and avoided the worst pitfalls of prostitution and drugs. Probably because she came to realize that the most valuable commodity in Hong Kong was information. She taught herself to be fluent in eight languages and made herself an expert on selling and buying. From the criminal underbelly to high-end political secrets, she became the person to go to. That’s where she first came onto our radar.”

“I can see how she would come to your attention,” Eve said dryly.

“Oh, she did. She was only seventeen and a complete tigress. She did a few contract jobs for us, and I was very impressed. I recruited her. I had her trained by one of our best agents. In the last twelve years I’ve sent her all over the world, and she’s been a remarkable asset. I couldn’t ask for a more competent operative.”

“Until she became ‘unbalanced’?”

“Everyone has a few problems to overcome. Once she works through this patch, she’ll be as valuable to me as ever.”

“You’re incredible.”

“No, I just do my job in the best way I can.” He paused. “Tell her no. Don’t get involved, Eve.” He hung up the phone.

She didn’t understand that last command. She had no intention of getting involved. Considering the circumstances, she didn’t see how Venable could think she was in any danger of giving in to anything that Catherine Ling asked of her.

She jammed her phone back in her pocket. What to do? Venable had been of no real help. He had given her a little insight into the woman’s character, but revealed no vulnerabilities. She had obviously developed scar tissue over all the pain of her childhood if she’d become the power house Venable described.

Listen to her.

She hesitated, thinking.

Oh, what the hell. It was either violence or persuasion.

It might end up either, or both.

She strode toward the door and threw it open.

Catherine Ling didn’t move, but Eve could sense a subtle change, an increased alertness. She was ready to spring or defend herself from attack.

Good Lord, the woman was beautiful. Eve had been in such emotional turmoil, she had only been vaguely aware of Catherine’s appearance.

The sun was shining, surrounding her with light. Her straight dark hair, enormous eyes, and smooth golden complexion seemed to glow.

But it was her vibrant intensity that held and fascinated. Eve had never seen anyone more alive.

“I just talked to Venable,” Eve said curtly. “He’s being a complete ass. He won’t come and get you, and he says you won’t do anything he asks.”

She nodded. “He’s right. He doesn’t really want you to help me. He’s glad that he found an excuse to put a roadblock in my way.”

“I can’t help you. Not as well as some of your CIA computer gurus.”

She shook her head. “It has to be you.”

“Dammit, why?”

She was silent. “Because of your Bonnie. Do you think I haven’t studied and researched you? I know all about you. I know that you have a lover, Joe Quinn. I know you have an adopted daughter, Jane MacGuire, who is an artist and is in London right now.” She paused. “And, most important of all, I know you lost your little girl, Bonnie, when she was seven to a serial killer, and it’s given you a passion and dedication that none of those tech guys will ever have. I need that passion. I have to have that dedication.”

“Then you’ll have to do without. I have another job I have to do.”

“Put it off.”

“No, that little girl’s parents have waited too long already. And why should I? To find out how age has changed some low-life criminal on whom you have some kind of twisted vendetta?”

“No.” She reached into her jacket pocket and pulled out a photo carefully protected in clear plastic. “So I can find him. ” Her hand was trembling as she held out the photo to Eve. “Help me. I’ll give you anything, do anything for you. I have to find him.”

Eve slowly took the photo.

It was a picture of a little boy of not more than two years of age wearing a red sweater. Dark hair, enormous dark eyes that were alight with joy and mischief. He was smiling, and Eve had never seen a sweeter expression. It was a smile to melt the heart. “Who is he?”

“Luke. My son.”

Eve’s gaze flew back to Catherine’s face. “What?”

“Luke. That picture was taken on his second birthday. He was taken from me a week later.”

“Taken? By whom?”

“Sergei Rakovac. Major criminal who was involved with the Russian mafia and manipulating various politicians in Moscow. My husband, Terry, and I were sent in to break up his organization. He was interfering with the current American administration’s attempt at peacekeeping over the Republic of Georgia’s conflict with Russia.”

“What conflict? If there was a conflict, it sure didn’t get much press.”

“Enough. There was a particularly nasty conflict in 2008 between the Republic of Georgia and Russia that killed over a thousand people, but the ethnic infighting has been going on for decades. It involved South Ossetia, a territory belonging to the Republic of Georgia. South Ossetia declared its independence from Georgia, and Russia supported them.” She made a face. “While trying to gently pull them under Russian domination. It would probably have been the first move toward annexing Georgia itself. At any rate, the tempers have been flaring on both sides ever since, and it’s still a hot spot. When Russia weighed in on the side of the Ossetians and sent in a ‘peacekeeping’ force is when it became a bloodbath. Guerilla fighting, massacres. Even after the supposed truce, there was spotty guerilla warfare on both sides. The attacks are still going on today. The hatred never stops.”