Iris Johansen - Deadlock

But Russia had changed in those years, and she was eager to see those changes.

"We're here, Dr. Povak." The pilot, Chad Nalley, came out of the cockpit after taxiing to a stop. His smile lit his wholesome, boyish face with warmth as he said to Irana, "And if I'm not mistaken, that's Dar¬don parked by the hangar. Evidently he wants to make sure you're whisked back to Garrett with the speed of light."

"I got that impression." Irana smiled as she released her seat belt. "Thank you. You've been very kind."

"My pleasure. You're a very nice woman, Dr. Povak." He turned the switch that let down the automatic stairs. "You take care of your¬self." He went down the steps ahead of her and turned to help her. "Garrett isn't the safest man to-"

Pain!

She was lifted, thrown like a paper doll down the rest of the stairs. Fire. Heat.

Blast. There had been a blast…

She rolled over on the ground and saw Dardon trying to get out of the car. But the windows had been blown out, and the doors were twisted.

The pilot was groaning a few yards away from her, blood dripping from a deep cut on his forehead.

She had to get to him. She had to help him.

She couldn't move. What was wrong with her? She struggled to her knees. If she could get to her medical bag in the plane, she could-

What was left of the Gulfstream jet was in flames.

"Welcome to Moscow."

She looked up at the man who was coming toward her. Sandy hair, broad fair eyebrows, carrying an AK-47. He was smiling… Who would smile at a moment like this?

"Come along, I've been waiting for you." He jerked her to her feet. "Emily must have told you about me. I'm Staunton." He was pulling her toward a car on the other side of the burning aircraft. "Now be a good girl. I'm in a hurry. You can either accommodate me, or I'll send a few bullets toward Dardon in that car and a few more at that pilot lying on the ground."

He would do it.

"Please, just give me a minute. The pilot is hurt. I need to help-"

"How kind you are. But he really doesn't deserve it. All Borg had to do was offer him enough money, and he gave him your flight plan."

She still held back. "Just let me stop his bleeding."

"You're wasting time. You want the bleeding stopped?" He sprayed a barrage of bullets into the wounded pilot. "It will stop soon. Now do you want me to aim at Dardon's gas tank and blow his car up?"

She couldn't take her gaze from the torn and bloody remains of the pilot. "No, I'll come." Her legs were working now, but she was still dazed. Just get him away from Dardon. Just stop the killing.

"Borg thought you wouldn't cause me any trouble, but the idiot almost blew you up. I wouldn't have liked that one bit. He should know how to set the proper charge by now." He smiled. "But here you are, and here I am. Won't that be fun?"

"EMILY." GARRETT WAS S T A N D I N G at her open bedroom door.

She scrambled up in bed. "Did you finish the translation?"

"No." He paused. "I just got a call from Dardon."

She tensed. Something was wrong. "Irana. Did something happen to her plane?"

"Oh, yes, something happened to it." He lifted his hand. "She's alive. She may not even be hurt. Dardon couldn't tell."

"What do you mean he couldn't tell? A plane crash is-"

"It wasn't a plane crash. Dardon had just pulled up to the hangar after Irana's plane came in. She was coming down the steps when the plane blew up. "

"What?"

"An explosion," he said. "An explosion timed to go off a few min¬utes after the stairs were lowered. At least that's what Dardon's think¬ing right now."

"Staunton," she whispered.

"He didn't set it. But he was there to shoot the pilot and pick Irana up and take her away after the explosion."

"Staunton has Irana?" She couldn't take it in. It was her worst nightmare. "You're sure?"

"Dardon saw him pulling her toward a car on the other side of the plane."

"Then, dammit, why didn't he stop him."

"His car was damaged by the blast, the doors were sealed. He couldn't get the door open until it was too late. The pilot was dead. Staunton was gone."

"And he's got Irana," she said dully. "We'll get her back."

"How?" She turned on him, and asked fiercely, "How are we going to do that, Garrett? What are we supposed to do now? He took her away as if we were helpless children."

"Do you think I don't know that?" His voice was hoarse. "I'm the one who promised her I'd keep her safe if she came here. I didn't do it. That son of a bitch-" He broke off and turned away. "Get dressed. Dardon should be back here anytime now."

"How, Garrett?"

"We find out where he is and go after him. Dardon got the license-plate number and the make of his car."

"That's not enough information. Russia is a huge country."

"But Staunton will stay fairly close."

"Why?"

He looked back over his shoulder. "You, Emily." She nodded as she saw where he was going. "He doesn't really want Irana. He wants me."

"That's my guess. He'll try for a trade." "Thank God."

"Which we're not going to give him. We have to find him before that-"

"Don't tell me what we're going to do." Her fists were clenched at her sides. "Do you know what he'll do to her? I do. I've seen it. You don't understand. He doesn't care. He likes it. I'm not going to let him hurt Irana. He wants me? He'll get me. Just find a way that I can keep a weapon to kill him."

"It may not come to that. Not if we can find a way to locate him before-"

"It will come down to that. I've always known that it might." She grabbed her clothes and headed for the bathroom. "So find Staunton if you can, but it doesn't really matter. One way or the other, we're going to get Irana away from him."

GARRETT MET DARDON AS HE drove up to the farmhouse thirty minutes later. The front bumper of his car was twisted, the paint blis¬tered in places, and the glass in four of the windows was broken.

"God, I'm sorry, Garrett." He opened the car door with difficulty and got out. "I tried to-I managed to get the door open but then I- Hell, I was afraid he'd kill her like he did that pilot."

"I wasn't there. I can't judge," Garrett said. "I know you like Irana. You would have done everything you could."

"How is Emily taking it?"

"How do you think? I have to find that bastard before she puts her head on the chopping block." "How?"

"That's what she asked." His lips twisted. "The big question. But I'll find the answer." He had to find it. First Karif, and now Irana. Staunton had taken too much from him. He couldn't let Irana die as Karif had died. He looked down the road. "In fact, the answer may be coming toward me right now."

Dardon's gaze followed Garrett's to the approaching car. "Pauley?"

"Pauley."

They watched as Pauley drove into the farmyard and parked the BMW next to the car Dardon had just gotten out of. He stuck his head out the window and gave a low whistle as his gaze wandered over the scorched and shattered body of the Mercedes. "Garrett, I have to talk with you about taking better care of your automobiles. That Mercedes was a fine car. As you can see, I'm delivering this car back to you in tip¬top shape."

"Did you put Babin on the plane?" Garrett asked.

Pauley nodded. "And I waited until the plane took off. But I think he would have left anyway. He was very nervous. You're very good at intimidation, Garrett. Can I learn that, or is it a natural gift?"

"You wouldn't want to put in the time involved to develop it. Stick to your own talents."

"But I want to expand my horizons. You opened a whole new world to me last night."

"You want to expand your horizons? Then hit the computer. I have a problem that should give you enough of a challenge to satisfy you."

"That's not the challenge I-" He stopped, studying Garrett's ex¬pression. "You're pretty grim. Something's not so good."