David Morrell - The Spy Who Came for Christmas

He took it from a pocket and opened it. At once, he intentionally fumbled with it and let it fall into the snow.

“ Damn.”

Continuing the pretense, he pawed in the snow. His thin leather glove barely protected his fingers from the cold. When he found the phone, it was covered with flakes. He wiped them off, made a show of pressing a button, and frowned at the screen.

“ Something’s wrong.”

“ Your phone doesn’t work?” Brody asked.

“ Snow must have got into it. Here, lend me yours.”

When Brody handed it over, Andrei pressed numbers and walked a short distance away, pretending to talk on the phone while he actually spoke to the microphone on his ski jacket.

“ Did you just try to call me?”

“ What was that about?” the Pakhan demanded through Andrei’s earbud. He sounded furious.

“ Something I needed to do. I’ll explain later.”

“ Did you hear what I said? Our clients claim I cheated them! But I won’t take the blame because you screwed up! I’ll make sure they know who to punish!”

Andrei barely held his anger in check. “Tell them they’ll get the package before midnight.”

“ You guarantee that?”

“ When we deliver, demand a bonus.”

“ Answer me! Do you guarantee delivery?”

In the cold, Andrei’s cheeks felt hot. Somehow he managed to keep his voice low and maintain control. Almost.

“ Damn it, yes. Now let me do my work.”

With that, he pretended to shut off the phone.

“ What’s the matter?” Brody asked.

“ You’ve got family problems. So do I.”

Down the lane, Andrei heard Yakov murmur, “Testing. One, two, three, four.”

In response, Brody pressed a finger to the object in his left ear. “I hear him.”

When Yakov returned, Andrei asked, “Detective Grant, is Mr. Brody’s microphone working? Did his voice come through your earbud?”

“ Clearly.”

“ Excellent.” Amid the distraction, Andrei slipped Brody’s cell phone into his pocket.

Brody didn’t notice.

“ Okay,” Andrei said. “Now, let’s practice what you’re going to do.”

Snow clung to their coats as they left the stairwell, passed the elevator, and walked along a hotel corridor to the security door.

There were five of them-Andrei, Kagan, Yakov, Mikhail, and Viktor, a lanky man Kagan had met only a half-dozen times, newly arrived from Russia. Andrei slid a credit-card-shaped hotel key into a slot. Making a slight metallic sound, the lock electronically opened.

Andrei wore his leather shooter’s gloves so he wouldn’t leave fingerprints when he turned the doorknob. Coordinating their movements via their earbuds and hidden microphones, he and the others had gone into the hotel through separate entrances to avoid attracting attention. They’d lowered their heads when passing security cameras. They did the same now as they stepped under the last camera they needed to be concerned about.

Closing the door, they entered a continuation of the corridor. Numbered rooms stretched along the wall to the left. In this exclusive part of the hotel, an attractive, well-dressed female receptionist smiled at them from a desk and pointed toward the melting flakes on their coats. “I see it hasn’t stopped snowing.”

“ A picturesque night for a walk,” Andrei replied.

“ Have you been to Canyon Road?” the red-haired woman asked.

“ Very impressive.”

“ It’s the big attraction on Christmas Eve. All year-round, in fact. I’m glad you didn’t miss it. Is there anything I can get you?”

“ Thank you, no.”

“ You must have checked into the hotel when I wasn’t on duty. I don’t recall seeing you before.”

“ I don’t recall seeing you, either. We only came back to our rooms to pick up some presents we’re taking to a party.”

“ Have a good time.”

“ We intend to.”

As expected on Christmas Eve, no sounds came from any of the rooms, the guests having gone out to dinner, to enjoy the sights, or perhaps to attend mass in the nearby cathedral. But even though there was virtually no risk of being interrupted, speed was essential.

While Andrei spoke to the receptionist, Mikhail stepped behind her and stuck a hypodermic into her neck, pushing its plunger.

“ Hey! What do you-”

The fast-acting poison made the woman shudder. Five seconds later, she slumped across her desk.

The other men took off their outdoor gloves, revealing latex ones. In a carefully rehearsed sequence, Mikhail grabbed the receptionist’s pass key off the desk, returned to the start of the corridor, and used the key to open a door to a custodial area. Kagan and Yakov picked up the dead woman and carried her through the open door, setting the corpse inside. When they returned to the corridor, they pulled the door shut, automatically locking it.

Meanwhile, Andre and Viktor went up a curved staircase and faced the three doors that led to the target’s suite.

The others joined them.

Andrei looked at his watch and nodded. Everything was proceeding as planned. Six minutes earlier, at 8:00 P.M., they’d stood amid the snowfall on the tourist-crowded Plaza, watching Hassan, his wife, and four protective escorts get into a limousine bound for a reception at the New Mexico governor’s mansion. At 9:00, Hassan was scheduled to step before television cameras and deliver the first of many rousing speeches about his newborn child of peace and his hopes for the Middle East.

But just before the speech, Hassan’s wife would receive a call on her cell phone. She would answer because the number displayed on the phone belonged to her baby’s nursemaid.

The voice would belong to a man, however. It would explain in vivid detail what had happened to the baby. It would emphasize that if Hassan loved his child, he would cancel the speech.

And never make another one.

Kagan stared through the window, straining to distinguish shadows from illusions in the falling snow.

One of them will try to distract me in the front, he thought. Probably Andrei. I set up enough ambushes with him. That’s how he thinks. Meanwhile, Mikhail and Yakov will attack from the sides.

But wouldn’t they have made their move by now? Kagan wondered. Maybe I did fool them. It’s been a while. Maybe nothing’s going to happen. Maybe they’re back on Canyon Road.

The baby whimpered.

“ Meredith,” Kagan said.

“ He’s just restless. Probably having another dream.”

“ Doesn’t sound like a happy one.”

“ I put my little finger to his lips. He’s sucking on it. He’s quiet now.”

“ You can’t let him cry.”

“ He’s a good baby. He won’t cry.”

Kagan never looked in Meredith’s direction. With the gun on his lap, he focused intently on the window.

He continued with the story, working to keep Cole and Meredith calm, hoping it would overcome his fatigue and keep him alert.

“ In those days, the capital of Israel was Jerusalem. The man in charge was a Roman puppet named Herod, who called himself the king of the Jews. He was seriously paranoid. Forty years earlier, a rebellion had chased him from Israel. The Romans had hit back viciously, using thousands of battle-hardened soldiers to return Herod to power. Thereafter, he squashed the slightest sign of a rebellion, even to the point of killing one of his wives, her mother, and several of his sons.

“ Now, suddenly at dawn, the guards on the eastern wall of Jerusalem reported three strangers coming out of the distance, approaching on camels. Their confident bearing identified them as men of importance. When they reached the gate, they announced that they were priests on a sacred mission and asked to pay their respects to Herod. What do you suppose his reaction was, Cole?”