Steven Gore - Final Target

“People fall in love with the same person over and over again,” Gage said. “It’s just the names that change.”

Alla looked up at Gage. “You must know my ex-husband.”

Gage shrugged. “Just a guess.” He circled back to the fight. “What investment?”

“Stuart, Gravilov, and Hadeon Alexandervich built a plant in Dnepropetrovsk, to manufacture missile guidance systems.”

Gage caught his breath. He felt as if life had been fast-forwarded and he’d blinked at all the wrong times. Rage mushroomed inside him, at Matson for his treason and at himself for failing to recognizing what Matson had been up to.

“Stuart got caught sending over military-grade video amplifiers, so Gravilov suggested that he manufacture them over here.” She emitted a bitter laugh. “Stuart liked to brag that SatTek can drop a missile into a coffee cup, but he never seemed to grasp that it’s people, not coffee cups, who get blown up.”

“How far have they gotten?” Gage said, keeping his voice steady, concealing his anger.

“They’ve already built fifteen hundred.” She glanced over at Ninchenko. “Stuart ordered the parts, mostly through intermediaries in Taiwan and Singapore, and shipped them over. Gravilov and Stuart fronted the money.” She glanced over her shoulder. “A FedEx box from Germany arrived at the hotel.”

Gage tensed as he said the words, “MMIC controller chips.”

Alla nodded. “The last five hundred. They were repackaged in Munich to disguise them as computer components. Gravilov’s bodyguard snatched them right out of Stuart’s hands and headed for the plant. All that’s left is to embed the software.”

“How do you know-”

“I studied engineering in college. I understand the process better than Stuart does.” She shook her head. “Putting weapons in the hands of these people is lunacy…sheer lunacy.”

Alla glanced in the direction of the restaurant. “Now what?”

Gage looked at his watch and asked Ninchenko, “What’s Matson doing?”

Ninchenko passed on the question, listened for a moment, then answered. “He’s still at the bar.”

“How’d you get Matson to tell you all of this?” Gage asked her.

“I told you what I’d do to a toad,” she said, unsmiling, “so use your imagination. And it didn’t hurt that Stuart has painted himself into a corner. Gravilov gave him a down payment of five million dollars for the software and Stuart’s afraid that if he hands it over, he’ll never get the rest of the money and they might even force him to give the five million back. He knows he’s already lost his investment in the plant.”

“Where’s the software?” Gage asked.

“Stuart told them it’s with his lawyer in London, but it’s really on his laptop. The idea is that he stays in Ukraine until the payment is wired into his account. Then he gives them the software and they’re supposed to let him leave.”

“Supposed to?”

“That’s what’s got him worried most of all.”

Gage looked at Ninchenko, who shrugged his shoulders as if to say, Use your best judgment. Then back at Alla. “Would you go back to him if I asked you to?”

She shook her head. “If they don’t let Stuart leave, there’s no way they’ll let me. Why not just kidnap him and the laptop?” She jutted her chin toward the restaurant. “I’ll make sure he cooperates.”

“Things have gone too far. We need to disable the devices so no one can ever use them.”

Ninchenko held up a finger and again listened to his phone. “Matson has looked at his watch a couple of times.”

Alla peered up at Gage. “You seemed to be good at following people. How good are you at rescuing them?”

Gage glanced at Ninchenko and smiled. “Even better. There’ll always be people just minutes away.”

“And if I say I want out?”

“We’ll get you out.”

She turned sideways and rolled her shoulder. “You’ll need to untie me.”

“You going to run?”

“No.” She flashed a smile. “I think I’d like a ride back.”

Gage nodded, then Ninchenko released her. Gage then pointed at the front passenger door and said to Alla, “You ride in front.”

She slipped down from the tailgate, rubbing her wrists, then walked around and climbed in. Gage and Ninchenko got into the back.

Alla turned toward them as the driver pulled out into the street. She locked her eyes on Ninchenko, and then tilted her head toward Gage. “I know how he fits in. What about you?”

“I work for an enemy of Gravilov-”

“I should have guessed.” She glared at Ninchenko. “The enemy of my enemy. It’s the Ukrainian way.”

“Except,” Ninchenko continued, “this enemy agrees with you and Mr. Gage. The devices have to be disabled. They mustn’t fall into the wrong hands.”

“They better be disabled, and fast.” Alla looked back at Gage. “You know what Stuart’s leverage for more money is?”

Gage shook his head.

“The video amplifiers are supposed to be installed in Ukrainian air-to-ground missiles next week. Like your Hellfires. Orders were placed. Part of the money has already changed hands. And they’re in a hurry to get it done. Hadeon Alexandervich is afraid the opposition will win the new election. Within weeks there’ll be a new prime minister and a new chief prosecutor. Hadeon Alexandervich knows he’s target number one. He wants the rest of his money. Now.”

“How much?”

“For the missiles? His profit is going to be about two hundred and seventy million. And Stuart is supposed to get twenty million. Same as Gravilov.”

“Who’s buying them?”

“Stuart doesn’t know exactly. He heard Gravilov refer to his Middle Eastern friends, but that may just mean the intermediary, like the Jordanian in the sale of the Kolchuga radar to Iraq. But I know this: Whoever the buyer is will be at a demonstration at the Black Sea the day after the installation is completed. If he’s satisfied, they’ll be shipped out right afterwards. A boat is already waiting.”

“Isn’t Matson afraid of these people?”

“Yes, but he doesn’t quite get it. Violence to him is an abstract concept.”

“And I take it he doesn’t understand what protection means over here, either.”

Alla shook her head. “He doesn’t have the slightest idea.”

The driver pulled into the shadowed alley behind the restaurant.

“Where do I tell Stuart I was?” Alla asked.

Ninchenko told her the story his man had used.

“You have a cell phone?” Gage asked.

“From London.”

Gage pulled out his own. “Keep this on you. You never know when you’ll have a chance to sneak a call.” He deleted the numbers in the memory except for Ninchenko’s, then looked at the battery meter. “It has about four days of power left. There’s just one number programmed in, Mr. Ninchenko’s.” He thought for a moment. “If anybody finds the phone, tell them it’s a local one you use for convenience.”

“Whose number do I say is in memory?” Alla asked.

“Your cousin, Ivan Ivanovich. Say you’ve been planning a surprise party for Matson when you get back from Dnepropetrovsk.”

“There’ll be a fucking surprise all right.”

Ninchenko and Gage drove back toward the apartment, leaving Ninchenko’s men to watch Alla and Matson’s return to the Lesya Palace Hotel.

“I sure didn’t see that coming,” Gage said as they wound their way back toward central Kiev.

He stared for a moment at the dimly lit street, then shook his head slowly. “Makes me wonder what else I missed.”

“Why not blow up the plant?” Ninchenko asked when he, Gage, and Slava met for a drink at the apartment. They sat at the dining table, bottled water in front of Gage and Ninchenko, vodka in front of Slava.