Cliff Ryder - Black Widow

Kate pulled up Sergei ProkhoroVs field reports. He and Viktor had managed to keep General Kumarin under surveillance. So far the general hadn't deviated from his routine duties. Room 59's intel unit was spot on with those.

"Taburova is hours away from Moscow at the rate he's traveling," Jake said. "There's time."

"Maybe," Kate replied, "but it feels like we're running out of it."

"We'll be ready. Unless there's a wrinkle we haven't spotted."

Kate massaged her tense neck muscles. "We always look for those, but they still manage to surprise."

She flicked through the file on Taburova and brought it up side by side with General Kumarin's. She had the definite feeling that she was missing something there. She didn't have the slightest clue what it was.

Moscow

"You need to relax and be patient."

"I am being patient," Sergei said irritably. He quietly drummed his thumbs on the steering wheel of the sedan.

Viktor sat in the passenger seat, as cool as if carved from ice. Over the last day, Sergei had seen the man sit like that for hours. All that moved were his eyes. He barely seemed to breathe.

Sergei went back to watching the parking lot of the government building where Yuri Kumarin kept a set of offices. They were only a few blocks from the Kremlin, where he usually worked.

The previous night, Sergei and Viktor had broken into the offices. In truth, Sergei had merely accompanied Viktor, while the latter had done the work. Sergei wasn't capable of the miracles the other man had worked with the elite security system in the building. He wondered if Mikhalkov would have been able to handle the system with as much finesse.

Viktor, by all accounts, was impressive.

Sergei glanced at the laptop computer between them. The monitor showed views of Kumarin's office. While they'd been inside, they'd installed the smallest video cameras and audio pickups that Sergei had ever seen. They were designed to access the building's Wi-Fi network and transmit to a satellite pickup Viktor had set up on the building's rooftop HVAC unit. Viktor was certain the monthly bug sweep that Kumarin had scheduled would find it, but that was still nine days away.

If nothing else, the one thing Sergei was certain of was that he wouldn't be able to wait another nine days. He felt that he'd be lucky to make it through another night.

"Something like this takes time," Viktor said.

"I know." Sergei hated that the man could read him so easily.

"We will be fine. Everything is going according to plan."

"To Kumarin's plan, maybe." Sergei tried to keep the bitterness out of his voice, but knew he failed when he saw Viktor smile. Which only made Sergei more irritated.

"You've made plans before?" Viktor asked.

"Of course."

"Remember how easy it was to have those plans upset? All it takes is one misstep." Viktor glanced reassuringly at Sergei. "You and I, tonight, are that misstep for Kumarin. You'll see."

"And if Kumarin chooses another night?"

Viktor shook his head. "Not another night. This one."

"How do you know that?"

"Because the buyer for the weapons is on his way to Moscow."

Sergei bit back a curse. "How long have you known this?"

Viktor shrugged. "A while."

"You could have told me."

"You have been worrying enough."

Sergei cursed. "You people have been withholding information from me."

"Perhaps." Then Viktor nodded. "A little."

"Why?"

Viktor pointed at the laptop and the images of Kumarin working at his desk. "Because we needed you focused on this man."

"Why haven't you simply picked up the buyer?"

"Like Kumarin, this other man is not easily caught. During the time that they're together, they should be slightly more vulnerable."

"And if they're not?"

"They will be. You must accept this."

Sergei wanted to shout in frustration, but he knew it would do no good. He breathed out and made himself be patient.

Then, on the laptop monitor, Kumarin put down the phone and got up from his desk. He grabbed his coat from a chair behind him and pulled it on. Calmly he took a pistol from the desk drawer, slipped the magazine out to check the load, then snapped it back into place and tucked it into a pancake holster at the small of his back. Another drawer yielded a smaller automatic in a holster, which he strapped to his right leg.

"This is not a man who trusts others," Viktor commented.

"No," Sergei agreed. This was the first time since they'd had Kumarin under surveillance that the man had strapped on the hideaway pistol.

"I think," Viktor said calmly, "that you are through waiting."

A sleek black limousine pulled up in front of the building and waited. After a short time, Kumarin appeared and climbed into the back.

When the car started forward, Sergei put the sedan in gear and eased out into the traffic in pursuit. His heart felt like a triphammer against his ribs.

* * *

Moscow

For a few minutes after the truck stopped, Ajza sat in the rear compartment in the dark. Slivers of light crept in from outside. The sounds of traffic and the frequent stops let her know they were in a city. Given the distance they'd driven, she felt certain it was Moscow.

Maaret sat with her child in one corner of the compartment. She hadn't been allowed to milk the goat or prepare bottles before they'd left, and the baby had nursed everything she had. As a result, he was now hungry and whimpering.

A guard pulled aside the tarp covering the rear of the truck. "Shut that baby up," he ordered.

"He's hungry," Maaret pleaded. "There's nothing I can do." But she pulled him close and he quieted.

Ajza knew the baby wouldn't be silent for long. She stood up to loosen her stiff muscles and felt a burst of nervous energy.

Beyond the open tarp, the Moskva River gleamed like a silver ribbon beneath the quarter moon. Pleasure boats carried tourists along. At the river's edge, numerous small craft were moored at several docks. Inland were warehouses and specialty shops.

The Kitai-gorod was arguably the oldest neighborhood in Russia. Built in the early sixteenth century, it had been much changed and added to since. Many of the old historical buildings had been razed to make room for the businesses that grew up around the river trade. Now many of those businesses chased tourist money.

The area the trucks had stopped in was mostly deserted. During the day, Ajza thought, the street was probably filled with shoppers and blue-collar workers.

"Get out," the guard ordered.

Ajza waited in line for a moment, then crawled out of the truck. She took the baby when Maaret handed him down, then gave him back to his mother when she stepped down.

A panel van pulled to a rocking halt only a few feet away. The side door slid open and two of Taburova's men stood there with assault rifles.

Taburova got out on the passenger side and gestured to the women to come closer. "Over here. Quickly. We don't have much time."

The men operated like an assembly line, hauling explosive vests from the cargo van and buckling the women into them.

"Be careful of these vests," Taburova warned. "Once they are secure, any attempt you make to remove them will result in detonation."

Having no choice, Ajza stepped forward and a man slipped a vest onto her. Then he handed her a chador to pull on over it. She stepped away, lightly fingering the deadly vest.

"Are you still ready to die to kill our enemies?" Taburova asked.

Ajza looked at him. "Yes," she answered. She glanced back and saw Maaret being fitted for a vest while still holding her child. Ilyas's child. She turned back to Taburova. "I am ready now more than ever."

And if it came to that, she was as prepared as she could be to give her life. But she wanted Ilyas's child free and out of harm's way first. For the moment she planned to stay close to Taburova. She didn't think he would set off the vests if he was close to anyone wearing one.