David Golemon - Primeval

Again, Sagli smiled and then closed the lid to the small box. "The Twins — that is what this is about, Miss Simpson. As you see we have one, we want the other. The Twins of Peter the Great, once a myth and now proven to be a fact. You will assist us in discovering the whereabouts of this diamond's equal."

"I haven't a clue as to what you're talking about."

Sagli held the small box out. The large man by the door took it and then returned to his position by the door.

"We could have taken any hostage we wanted here in the States. However, taking you was just too tempting. You have been what you Americans call a pain in the ass. We knew our picture would lead you right to where we wanted you to be. Now we will get the information we need in exchange for sparing your life."

"Uh-huh, and I'll run for president of the United States next year at this time. My bosses wouldn't give you the time of day."

"Indeed, they may not if they thought that we were not serious in our quest." Sagli nodded over at the large man who nodded and placed the box holding the diamond on the floor. He quickly advanced toward the chair and he went behind Lynn and then without hesitation reached out and grabbed her right hand and slammed it on the table, knocking the now cold meal from its surface. Before Lynn knew exactly what was happening, the man produced a knife and quickly and expertly cut her right index finger off, slicing through skin and bone as effortlessly as a breadstick.

Lynn screamed and then closed her eyes against the pain. For some unknown reason her thoughts quickly turned to her brother, the protector she had known since the time she had been able to remember. She couldn't help it; she let loose with his name in a moment of lost composure.

"Jack!" she cried.

The Russian smiled when the name of her brother was mentioned, and then just as quickly the grin vanished.

"There, now your employers will believe you are in dire peril," Sagli said as he nodded for the man to leave the room with his new proof of life and of Lynn's identity.

Lynn grasped her hand as Sagli reached out and quickly wrapped a handkerchief around the wound and then he ruthlessly bound it tightly. With tears of pain and frustration coursing down both cheeks, she became mad, not only at her complete failure at controlling the pain, but being weak enough to have called out for Jack.

"I'm going to kill that bastard for that," Lynn said between clenched teeth. "Then I'm going to kill you and that worthless partner of yours," she finished far more calmly than she felt.

"We will get what we want from your government, and then you will die, possibly not in that order, but die you will. Either way, the good guys will not win this round, dear Miss Simpson. There will be no one capable of stopping us from finding the other Twin, no American cowboy to come to your rescue."

Lynn's eyes narrowed, knowing that the only man who could come riding to her rescue knew only that she was working on a project that may or may not concern him; thus he was in the dark as to what peril his sister was in, and realizing this, an air of despair settled over her like a dark shroud.

Assistant Director of Intelligence Nancy Grogan had been at her desk going on fifteen hours. Stan Rosen, coming in from a stop at home, poked his head inside of her door after a brief knock. They were both under orders from the director to get a handle on the abduction of Agent Lynn Simpson.

"Anything since I've been out?" he asked, knowing from her tired expression there had been no developments.

"Stan, this makes no sense: Two of the most wanted criminals in the world abduct an American intelligence officer. Where is the plan? They know we won't negotiate her release."

Rosen took a step into the office and removed his horn-rimmed glasses. "You have been in your position, how long? Three months?"

"Four," she said, not in the least bit anxious to be lectured.

"We negotiate with scum on a daily basis around here. The director and the president want your girl freed, and they will be willing to deal with those two pieces of shit to do it. Then we can sweep this thing back across the border where it damn well belongs."

"We have to hear from them first."

"Go home; those files will start blending into each other if you keep going. Get some rest; I'll stay and keep the home fires burning here. The director will have some hard questions tomorrow, and you better be awake enough to have a few answers."

"You're right, at least a nap and a shower," Grogan said as she tossed the thick file about Sagli onto her desk. Then she looked up. "Did the director say anything about contacting Lynn's brother?"

Stan looked at his watch. "Not as of ten o'clock tonight. The president said he wants every piece of intelligence we can gather before addressing that problem."

Nancy Grogan shook her head and stood.

"Call me if anything develops."

"Oh, thank you for not bringing up the fact that it was me that passed on that airport picture of Sagli and Deonovich to you. There was no sense in getting both of us in Dutch with the director."

Grogan stopped gathering her data to take home and looked at Rosen.

"I do have one question; maybe your answer will be payment enough for not mentioning to the director that it was you who gave me the photo."

"Shoot," Rosen said.

"The contact who passed it to you: How did you get someone on the Canadian side to work for you with intelligence knowing? I mean, I should have gotten a report on anyone working with you across the border."

Rosen smiled wide. "We all have our secrets."

Grogan tilted her head and continued to look at her operations counterpart.

"The guy is so small in their government and we pay him so little that he just got lost in the reports, that's all." With a last smile and nod of his head, Stan Rosen left. "I'll let you know if anything happens while you're resting," he called out over his shoulder.

Nancy sat back down in her chair. She looked at her empty doorway and wondered at the fact that Rosen still didn't name his source.

Forty minutes later, Grogan pulled into her driveway at Fort Myer, Maryland. She paused in her car as she noticed that her security lights didn't come on as usual. As she gathered her large bag she knew she had to call the security company first thing in the morning, another headache to deal with. As she took the fifteen steps up her walk to her front door, a voice came out of the darkness. She stopped and without turning, started to reach into her bag.

"Please do not attempt to reach for your weapon, I have instructions that say you are not valuable enough to leave unharmed if you make trouble. You will be quite dead before you turn around, Assistant Director Grogan. We would just choose to go through another spy to deliver our demands."

"Who are you?" she asked as she slowly turned to face the darkness of her front yard. She could see a man, a rather large one, standing just outside of her night vision.

"That is not important. What is of the utmost importance is that you listen. As you know, we have your agent and she is in dire straits at the moment, and in very much discomfort. If you and your agency would like to relieve her of any more pain, and perhaps have her returned, we need one thing from you."

"I need proof that she is alright, otherwise you can go straight to hell. We don't pay criminals for killing our people."

"Proof is forthcoming. Right now you need to return to your agency and gather one piece of information. Six months ago, there was a robbery at the Denver Museum of Natural History. Several valuable pieces were stolen, along with some very valuable papers that were stored in one of these artifacts."