Andrew Kaplan - Scorpion Winter

At that moment he looked up and saw Iryna. She was on the Internet cafe TV, wearing a black wig cut the way she had worn her hair before, the way people were used to seeing her. Scorpion clicked a few times on his computer to bring the TV image up on his computer screen. She was saying something vehemently, those incredible lapis eyes flashing, and he felt a twinge in his groin at the thought that he’d been in bed with her only hours before.

She was pointing to their photos in the newspaper and obviously denying that they’d had anything to do with Cherkesov’s assassination. The camera pulled back to show Kozhanovskiy standing next to her. He was speaking now. Scorpion recognized where they were: the dining room of the apartment above the pub near Kontraktova Ploscha.

He wished he could understand what they were saying. The screen switched to show a stormy meeting in the Verkhovna Rada, members screaming and shoving each other, then cut back to Kozhanovskiy. So it was something to do with the election, he thought. For now, he had to decide who to go after: Gabrilov or the Chinese?

He needed intel. Badly. He thought about Vadim Akhnetzov. Lianhuay did heavy machinery business in Ukraine. Akhnetzov had to have heard of them, he thought. It was long past time he connected with the man who was paying him anyway. He sent an emergency e-mail to a cover Gmail account Akhnetzov had given him and logged off after deleting any record that he had been on that computer.

One overarching question nagged at him: Why would the Chinese want Cherkesov dead?

T he short man wore a Swiss hat and a red plaid scarf draped over one shoulder. Hardly a typical Ukrainian male outfit, and Scorpion thought he might be gay. The man was standing on the Nyvky Metro platform, looking around every few minutes.

“Ne oborachivaisya,” Scorpion said, coming up behind him. Don’t turn around. They were near the edge of the platform.

“Ya rodom iz Finlyandii,” the man said. I come from Finland.

“I used to like the jazz in Esplanade Park,” Scorpion said in English, completing the sequence. The man started to turn around, and Scorpion stopped him. “I said, ne oborachivaisya.”

“I’m Boyko,” the man said in excellent English. “You Collins?” he asked, using Scorpion’s cover name from when he had first met Akhnetzov.

“Never mind who I am,” Scorpion growled. “Tell me about the Lianhuay Trading Company.”

“What about them? They’re a Chinese company. Officially, they sell machinery and do construction projects.”

“And unofficially?”

“We’ve heard stories about illegal arms and trade intelligence. They’re said to pay well.”

“Are they Guoanbu?”

“Well…” Boyko shrugged. “They’re Chinese.”

“Why would the Chinese want Cherkesov dead?”

Boyko started to turn around. Scorpion stopped him.

“You think they were involved?” Boyko asked.

“You tell me,” Scorpion said. “What did they have against Cherkesov?”

“Haven’t the foggiest. Could be the new gas pipeline.”

“What pipeline?”

“There’s a proposed new pipeline from Kazakhstan through Ukraine to supply natural gas to additional countries in Europe. The Chinese and the Russians are both bidding for the contract.”

“How was Cherkesov involved?”

“At Ukengaz, it was our understanding that if Cherkesov had been elected, he’d have gone with the Russians.”

“Sounds like a motive to me,” Scorpion said. “Why didn’t Akhnetzov tell me about this?”

“Don’t use his name. Just Vadik. I have to tell you, he’s not happy.”

“Neither am I.”

“Not at all. May I smoke?”

“Set yourself on fire for all I care. Let’s talk about Vadik and the Chinese.”

“He wasn’t sure it was relevant,” Boyko replied, lighting a cigarette.

“Excuse me? The Russians and the Chinese are in competition for a pipeline worth billions. Cherkesov and Ukengaz are poised to give it to the Russians and you don’t think that gives the Chinese a motive? What planet are you from?”

“The SVR never mentioned the Chinese,” Boyko said. “This is awkward talking this way. Can I turn around?”

“No,” Scorpion said, putting his hand on Boyko’s back and moving a half step behind him. “Pyatov was a decoy to pull me off the scent. It also made me the fall guy. Everyone’s looking for me.”

“Makes you less effective. You failed. Vadik’s ready to call this whole adventure off.”

“No deal,” Scorpion said. “Our agreement was no Russian invasion. If I can stop it, he still owes me the rest of the money.”

“I’ll tell him. Anything else?”

“Who set me up? The SVR? Tell Vadik if it’s him, his money won’t save him.”

“It wasn’t him. He said even now he wants to believe in you.”

“So who was it? Gabrilov or the Chinese?”

“Gabrilov’s no genius. Maybe the Chinese?” Boyko shrugged.

“Tell me about Li Qiang.”

“You’ve made progress,” Boyko said, starting to turn his head, then stopped. “You’re right. He’s head of the Guoanbu in Kyiv.”

“I know that. Tell me what I don’t know.”

“He has a male friend.”

“How thrilling.”

“No. A special male friend,” Boyko said, emphasizing the word.

“And who’s this special friend?”

“His name is Ruslan. Ruslan Ardiev.”

“Where can I find him?”

“He performs at the Androgyne Club. Frankly, his body’s better than his voice. If not there, there’s a massage place, the Congo, on Berezhanskaya; goluboi, of course,” he added, using the Russian slang word for gay. “And watch out for Li Qiang’s bodyguard, Yang Hao. Never leaves his side.”

“Dangerous?”

“We’ve heard stories,” Boyko said.

They heard a train coming and felt a rush of cold air ahead of it as it approached the station.

“Are we boarding?” Boyko asked.

“Just wait,” Scorpion said.

“I’m not comfortable with the train coming with you behind me.”

“Funny, I’d’ve thought you’d love it,” Scorpion said.

Boyko snorted. “Cheeky boy. Not before I see what you look like.” The train stopped and opened its doors. “Are we boarding?”

“Tell Vadik what I said.”

“I will. Are you coming, Collins?”

“You go,” Scorpion said, giving him a nudge forward.

Boyko got on, turned and looked at Scorpion, who had turned and was walking away on the platform.

“Pity,” Boyko said.

Expo Plaza

Kyiv, Ukraine

The Lianhuay company office was on the ninth floor of an office building across from the Expo Plaza Exhibition Center. There were two security cameras covering the front entrance, but only one at the back. Scorpion used his Leatherman tool to chip a toehold in the wall at the back of the building, then climbed up and disabled the camera. A tap on his Peterson universal key and he was inside.

The building was dark and empty. His footsteps echoed as he climbed the stairs to the Lianhuay office. There was an alarm on the office door, but it was only single channel. It took him less than a minute to disarm it. The door lock was a card reader. He used an NSA card and waited while the software read the magnetic reader setting and opened the lock.

Before entering, he used his flashlight to check for motion detectors. He didn’t see any and went inside. It was hard to tell whose office was whose; the name plaques were in Mandarin, which he couldn’t read. But hierarchy was the same no matter what language it was in, he thought. Li Qiang would have the best office, and so he made his way to a large corner office with window views of the Expo Plaza across the way.