Cliff Ryder - Black Widow

Now he wished that he had remained anonymous.

"Sergei?"

No matter what else happened, Sergei knew he couldn't let Pasternak's deathbed confession be erased. Someone had to know if Sergei and Mikhalkov fell. Whatever the conspiracy involving Kumarin was, it had to be revealed.

"Pasternak told me that he worked for Yuri Kumarin to broker the deal."

"Who is Kumarin?"

Sergei was surprised the woman didn't know. She seemed to know so many other things. "He is a Russian general known for his anti-Chechen political stand."

The woman was silent for a moment and Sergei was certain the news had surprised her. He expected her to break the connection, but she didn't.

"Thank you for trusting me, Sergei. We'll get this worked out. Once this is over, you'll get a chance to know more about who you're working for. For now, I want to get you out of harm's way."

Sergei took a deep breath and released it. "Can you ensure Mikhalkov's safety, too?"

"We're working on that. I'm calling in some favors."

"Can you fix this with my agency?" Sergei didn't want the FSB tracking him, as well. Russia was suddenly full of enemies and dangers as it was.

"Yes."

Sergei didn't know how the woman could sound so confident, but she did, and he felt immediate relief because of it. He just hoped that relief wouldn't be short-lived.

* * *

New York

Grimly Kate divided her attention between the Moscow map that showed GPS tracking of Sergei ProkhoroVs phone and the satellite imagery of the city streets. So far none of the tech team she'd made responsible for the Russian FSB agent's health and well-being had spotted any tails.

"Sergei needs to ditch that phone as soon as he can," Jake said.

Kate touched her headset to change phone lines. "How is my cut-out number doing?"

"Gimme twenty seconds," the tech said. "I'll lock the number in through the Rio exchanges. If anyone tries to piggyback the call, we can jettison the connection before they can reach us."

But Sergei Prokhorov would be left to fend for himself. Kate wasn't happy with that idea. Protecting Room 59 came first, and all the inner circle of agents knew that. Some of them had died inches from safety and she'd had to watch.

"Let me know. I'm working on borrowed time." Kate switched to another line. "Where are my work-ups on General Yuri Kumarin?"

"Coming. Asking for them isn't going to make it happen any sooner."

Kate took a deep breath and let it out. "I know, Geoff. Just let me know." She hated being behind the eight ball, and her position often put her there.

"You doing okay?" Jake asked.

"I'm fine."

"You don't sound fine."

"I've got two agents out in the field who are both exposed. I don't know if we can keep Prokhorov hidden or salvage him after we do, and I told him that I could because I need him focused on getting out of this alive. And I can't get in touch with Ajza Manaev while she's in that camp."

"You'll work it out."

Kate knew she would. If she didn't, Sergei Prokhorov or Ajza Manaev was dead. Probably both of them.

All because they're caught up in the middle of a trap that was grinding inexorably closed, she thought.

"You can field an exfiltration team for Ajza," Jake pointed out.

"There are too many women and children in that camp." Kate remembered those images, too. She hated the thought of letting the Black Widow camp exist for another minute, much less the idea of days or weeks longer. "We don't sacrifice potentially dozens of innocents for the safety of one agent. That's not what we were was set up to do. We're perishable goods. Collateral damage if it comes to that. We take the hit when things go wrong. Every agent in the field knows and understands that."

"Then let it ride," Jake advised.

Kate paced and tried to relax. Those agents needed her at her best, thinking clearly.

"Why would Kumarin get weapons for Taburova?" Jake asked.

Kate knew her bodyguard was playing devil's advocate. They both knew why Kumarin had brokered the weapons deal.

"They're bait," Kate answered. "To get Taburova or the Chechen freedom fighters to come out into the open. Once Russia finds out a weapons shipment for the Chechens has hit their streets, they're going to push the military to roll over them again."

"Okay, but why American weapons?"

Kate looked at Jake. "The simple answer is that the American weapons were all they could get."

"The simple answer would be to sell the Chechens Russian weapons. Or Chinese. They've got warehouses of that ordnance over there."

It was true. Arms dealers still sold Russian overstock throughout the world. Kate turned that fact over in her mind.

"Ajza dropped a load of American weapons into the sea in Istanbul," Jake went on. "I'm betting it wasn't too easy to get two shipments of American weapons."

Kate didn't like the answer that came to her mind. "The United States has been heavily involving itself in East European countries that were once satellites of Russia."

"We've been accused of subverting Russian political influence in that area," Jake agreed. "How do you think it's going to look when a Russian general can point to a warehouse full of American weapons that were delivered to Chechen terrorists?"

"Bad."

Jake nodded. "Plenty bad. Sounds to me like Kumarin is trying to double-dip on this operation. He's going to bring down some of the Chechen leaders and give the U. S. a hickey in the process. Should set back our peacekeeping involvement over there for a while. The rest of Europe isn't too happy when we get overly involved in their backyard."

The theory made sense. And all the pieces came together easily.

Kate's computer screen blinked and revealed a new folder titled General Yuri Kumarin. She crossed to the computer and opened the file.

Kumarin was in his early fifties, a handsome man with close-cropped gray hair and gray eyes. His Russian army uniform was immaculate. Other photos in the file showed Kumarin on various military lines and standing in bombed-out sections of Moscow. Headlines on various articles screamed how vehemently Kumarin disliked the Chechen rebels.

After a deep breath, Kate said, "Kumarin is the key. We need to work him and find a way to him."

And get our people out safely, she added silently.

Outside Chechnya

"You will room with me," Maaret said as she led Ajza into one of the small buildings. "Three other women live here, but there is room for another. Get your things and bring them here."

"I don't have anything," Ajza replied.

Maaret looked at her suspiciously. "You're well fed. You have no wounds. Some fresh bruises, yes, but no open sores. How can you have nothing?"

Ajza was surprised at Maaret's observational skills, and she was ashamed of herself for having thought so little of the woman. Guilt over her own lack of hardships assailed her. In truth, she was nothing like the women trapped at the camp.

"The man who brought me to Taburova, Achmed, stole everything I had."

"Achmed is a very bad man. He brings in a lot of women. And girls. He and his men abuse them terribly."

"He won't do that anymore. Taburova killed him."

"One of the other women told me that." Maaret paused, then, "She also told me you threatened to kill Achmed with a grenade."

Ajza shrugged. "Better to die as I am than after Achmed and his men were done with me."

"Your husband is dead?"

"Yes."

"You loved him?"

"Yes." Ajza lied flawlessly, but still felt guilty. Maaret had lost her husband. That was why she was there.

"Why should you want to live?"

"I don't want to live without my husband, but I'm still alive." Ajza paused. "Dying…is harder than I thought." She'd wanted to die when she'd heard about Ilyas, but dying hadn't been an option.