by P A Duncan
“I suspect I’m past my prime in that area,” she said, memories of that Bosnian summer intruding, “and Belfast is not exactly where I’d want to raise children.”
“Yeah, I feel like that about this country. I’d want a better place for my kids.”
“That’s true of parents anywhere.”
“Thanks for being my date,” he said. “I appreciate it.” He smiled at her again. “And thanks for letting me be here with the classiest woman.”
Given her competition were biker chicks, that wasn’t difficult. “You’re welcome.”
He leaned closer. “When will I be able to see you again?”
“I haven’t gone anywhere.”
“But you will. When?”
His eyes locked with hers, his gaze intent but not soulless. The wrong person, she thought, I’ve focused on the wrong person. To be in a place where you’d kill for a dubious cause, you had to have no conscience. John Carroll hadn’t arrived at that place yet. She read it in his eyes. It was up to her to make certain he never got there.
“We have to work around my job. You know that,” she said.
“Have you ever been to Oklahoma?”
“No.”
“Another buddy of mine works on a farm there, near Enid. I’m going to help him out for a few weeks.”
“This isn’t like the Addams fiasco, is it?”
“No, no. This guy is like my brother. Can you come there?”
“Get settled there and give me a call. I’ll see what I can work out.”
He smiled again. “Great! Thanks. It means a lot to me.” He drained his beer. “Let me go say goodbye to Lamar and Sharon. How about we hit a casino, maybe play some poker?”
Ah, poker. Now that would be interesting to watch and find out how well he could bluff. “Sure. I’ve been known to win a hand or two myself.”
At a small casino with a moderate stakes game, they played for almost four hours. Mai watched Carroll and paid little attention to her own hands. She excused herself to watch him and found him a decent player with a good poker face and a head for remembering cards. That mattered little in poker, she knew, but it helped in estimating the odds of getting the card you wanted. He left the game a modest winner and went to cash in his chips.
“How about some blackjack?” he asked.
A message from the computer geeks likely awaited her. “Jay, I should get back to the hotel. My flight out tomorrow is an early one.”
“See, I knew it. I knew you’d be leaving.” There was an edge to his tone, and his jaw clenched.
“If I don’t work, I lose the job,” she said. “If I lose the job, I’m out of the country.”
His eyes were soft when he looked at her. “I know. I thought… I’m house-sitting for Lamar and Sharon while they’re honeymooning. Ashley is staying with L.D.’s parents. I’d hoped you could join me, you know, to get to know each other better, and I remember we’re taking it slow. They have two bedrooms.”
Spending time in the Duvals’ trailer had no appeal for her, and she wanted to know if the email account or computer Alexei had used could be traced. She took his hand in hers.
“Lad, I’m sorry,” she said, “but we’ve talked about the uncertainty of my life and the job.”
“I know. I understand. I definitely don’t want you to get deported. There’ll be plenty of other times. Right?”
“Of course.”
At the door to her hotel room, he didn’t ask to come in, but he engulfed her in an embrace, one he held for a while. His hips shifted away from hers, and he moved back to arm’s length.
“I’ll call when I’m in Oklahoma,” he said.
“I look forward to hearing from you.”
“You, uh, you don’t keep my letters, do you?”
Mai blinked; that came from nowhere. “No,” she lied. “Why?”
“Not a good idea. If the feds come after me, I don’t want you involved.”
“Why are the feds coming after you?”
“Why did they go after Randy Weaver or Caleb Isaac? It’s part of their plan.” He swayed, confirming for her he was drunk.
“I’m careful, lad. Don’t worry about me.”
“But I do. I worry a lot.”
There was the awkward moment before two strangers kissed, but he breached the distance and kissed her. Quite well.
She hoped he didn’t see she felt nothing.
No sooner than she was sure Carroll was long gone, Mai checked her laptop for an email. Nothing. She called her pilots and headed for the airport. She did doze in the cabin on the flight back to D.C.
25
Double Standards
Directorate Headquarters
Even at six in the morning, The Directorate hummed with activity, though Nelson’s office was dark. She detoured to his private quarters, wondering which susceptible analyst she’d find with him. When the door opened after she entered code, she found him alone, in pajamas and a robe, a cup of coffee and a bagel at hand while he read reports. His one vanity, his hair, was perfectly coiffed.
“I was expecting you,” he said, “though I admit not so early. Did you add to your immense wealth in Vegas?”
“Hardly. Fill me in.”
“Want some coffee?”
“No.”
“And good morning to you, too. I’m doing well. Thanks for asking. A consult would have been nice before cutting your mission short.”
“I’m sure I consulted as much as Alexei did before he took off. I live in hope the double standard will end someday.”
“He cleared his excursion with me.”
“He didn’t consult his partner.”
“You were unavailable. He made his case for moving quickly, and I accepted it.”
“Patriot City is the place Norton Ball warned against infiltrating.”
“Alexei had a lead and acted on it. Sounds like good tradecraft to me.” He crossed his arms over his chest and regarded her. “Am I getting attitude?”
“How dare you joke about this.”
“Sit and I’ll fill you in.”
She sat across the small table from him. He thumbed through the stack of files next to him and handed one to her.
“That’s all we have so far,” he said. “The email address he used this morning was opened and closed out within ten minutes. Typical IT gibberish, but basically, they were unable to trace its location.”
“What about this guy Cutter?”
“Alexei found him at the library. He gave Alexei the Patriot City lead.”
“Is he in our custody?”
“We couldn’t find anyone named Cutter in the area. I thought I’d let the money drop play out.”
Mai finished the thin file, closed it, and set it aside. Everything seemed fine, but her intuition wouldn’t shut up.
“You’re concerned?” Nelson said.
“Of course.”
“That’s unexpected.”
“What the bloody hell do you mean by that?”
“I know he’s taken a back seat the past few years, but he’s still the senior operative.”
“Something he reminds me of when he wants his way.”
“You’ve reached the point where you may feel the need and the right to run the show, but he gets to make these calls.”
“This isn’t about me.”
“Your concern is somewhat…uncharacteristic.”
“Jesus Wept, Nelson, it’s bad enough he’s insecure about whether I care or not. You don’t have to be a surrogate.”
“What’s the issue, then?”
“Alexei is an extremely fit and active fifty-one—”
Nelson grinned at her. “Details about how fit and active would be appreciated.”
“Nelson…”
“Sorry. Continue.”
“He doesn’t count how many times he’s been injured, but I do. Plus, he still thinks he’s invincible, and he’s not. I don’t like any of this, especially the sneaking out when I’m not here to discuss
it.”
“I thought this wasn’t about you?”
“I want to be the one to bring Cutter in. I’ll take him to a safe house and question him. I want to know if he set Alexei up.”
“I’ll have a team in place at the post office for the money drop, but, yes, you can be the team lead. There’ll be a lot of civilians around. No public rough stuff, but use whatever force you need to get him to come with you.”
It wasn’t enough, but she knew it was all she’d get.
Nelson studied her again, his scrutiny intense. “You’re that worried about this?”
“Why does that surprise you? I’ve been with him nearly half my life.”
“I wouldn’t have okayed it if I’d had doubts. The worst thing that could happen from long exposure to Missouri is that he’ll come home having found God and wanting to burn books.”
Missouri? Oh, the round-trip ticket had been to the Kansas City, Missouri, airport. “Patriot City may not be in Missouri. That airport is a major hub,” Mai said.
“Sergei Nevansky didn’t take any other flights from KCI.”
“Unless it was a private aircraft.”
“We’re checking a six-state area. I’ve got queries in at the FBI and ATF.”
“They told Alexei they’d never heard of Patriot City.”
“I’m a director. I went to the top, but I’m still waiting for an answer. See. Everything under control.”
He smiled again, but it did nothing for her confidence.
Mount Vernon, Virginia
When Mai entered the house a little after eight, Natalia almost leapt into her arms. Mai looked at Olga over the girl’s shoulder. Olga shrugged. The usual—her upcoming visit with her father.
And Alexei had escaped the angst.
“Have you started packing?” Mai asked, when Natalia finally released her.
“Four suitcases,” Olga said. “Finished yesterday.”
“Four?” Mai asked Natalia.
“I have to have the right clothes for any occasion.”
Oh, God, Mai thought, it’s started. “You’ll be at either the observatory or the beach. What do you need besides shorts and swimsuits?”
“I’m, like, taking some books and my GameBoy and games, because, you know, he, like, ignores me when we’re at the observatory.”
“That’s his work. Winnow it down to two.”
Natalia sighed. “What if I have to buy something?”
“Your dad will be good for it.”
“Or… You could give me a credit card?”
“Not happening,” Mai said, perhaps with more tension than she intended. She went to the stack of mail on the counter and flipped through it.
“Natasha,” Olga said, “go up and start repacking. I will come up soon and help.”
The girl made a face at Mai. Mai saw it and made one back at Natalia before she headed upstairs.
“She doesn’t leave for two days,” Mai said. “Why did she pack so soon?”
“She was upset when we got home from birthday party and Alexei had left.”
“And to fix that you let her pack? Between you and Alexei, she’s on her way to being a spoiled brat.”
“And riding lessons and horse and private soccer coach does not spoil? What is wrong?”
“You said Alexei left a note.”
“Da. He had to leave on urgent business.”
“You know he’s been trying to find a particular compound to infiltrate?”
“Gorodna Patriotichyesky?”
“He got a lead and left to check it out. I’m… I’m perturbed he didn’t wait for me.”
Olga looked toward the door to the home office and back to Mai. “I have confession,” Olga said.
This could be interesting. “What?”
“I have code for office.”
“I’m aware.” Olga said nothing, and Mai was quick on the uptake. “You’ve searched the office?”
“Only on occasion. I need to show you something.”
Olga headed for the office, punched in the access code, and entered, Mai at her heels. Olga opened a drawer in Alexei’s desk and pointed.
Mai saw his gun, watch, items from his wallet, and his necklace. “He leaves this behind when he goes on a mission, except for the gun, but he had to fly commercial aviation.”
“There is more.”
Olga sat in Alexei’s desk chair, and that bothered Mai for some reason. Olga took lock picks from the pocket of her slacks.
“You carry lock picks?” Mai asked.
“Old KGB saying. Better to have and not need than need and not have.”
She picked the lock on a bottom drawer and removed a large lockbox, whose lock she also picked. She set aside a small wooden box, which piqued Mai’s curiosity because she’d never seen it before.
“What’s in that?” she asked.
“I have never looked.”
“Of course not.”
“No, is personal, but look if you want.”
That was a temptation, but, no. There might be something in there she wouldn’t want to see.
“You remember Bukharin used to hunt Nazis whenever Directorate would let him?” Olga asked.
“Yes, and I remember when Nelson cut that off. Why?”
“He had list of Nazis, ones associated with Siege of Stalingrad. You know why?”
“He showed me the list once, and that’s where his father and siblings died.”
Olga took file folders from the lock box. “These are files he kept on them. The one he had left to hunt was on bottom. These are in different order from last time I looked. This one was on top.”
Mai took the folder handed her and looked at the tab. “Pinkus von Hollenbrand,” Mai said.
“He was Waffen SS, assigned to Stalingrad, perhaps responsible for ordering deaths of Soviet Army prisoners there. There is no way to be sure, but Bukharin thought he was…”
“The one who ordered the deaths of his father and siblings.”
“Da.”
Mai scanned the file’s contents. “Pinkus has been a busy man, but the last entry here was more than fifteen years ago. He’s probably dead. What’s this got to do—”
“Alexei told me what he told you, that he goes to library to find mercenaries.”
“Analysis said they congregate there for some reason.”
“He returns here, reads that file, and leaves quickly on mission.”
“He’s either gone on a rogue mission to find this old Nazi or…” Mai looked up from the file. “Or von Hollenbrand has something to do with Patriot City.”
“If so, is extra incentive for Bukharin to go there.”
“Which means he’ll kill von Hollenbrand on sight and get himself killed.” She slapped the file on the desk and paced the length of the office. How could he fucking do this? She came back to her desk, picked up the receiver to the phone, and dialed Nelson’s direct line, punching so hard the phone jumped about on the desk.
“Nelson,” came the answer.
“It’s Mai. When you okayed this little foray, did you know Alexei was going to hunt for some Nazi named Pinkus von Hollenbrand?”
A pause. “Funny, he never mentioned that. He told me he had a lead on Patriot City. That’s it. Are you sure it’s von Hollenbrand?”
“Reasonably. Why?”
“He’s also on The Directorate’s list. He murdered three of our operatives in the fifties, and we have a long memory where that’s concerned. Damn it, he said nothing about that because he knew I wouldn’t okay it. All right, I’m contacting the FBI and ATF again, and this time I’m coming away with an answer that suits me.”
“That’s not enough.”
“He’s a big boy, Mai. He can take care of himself.”
“If he comes back in a box, I’ll make you eat every one of those words.”
“Stand down. I was doing this before you were born.”
“Fuck you.”
Mai slammed the receiver down and became aware of Olga
’s scrutiny. “I need some time alone,” Mai said. “Go help Natalia re-pack.”
Olga gathered the files and returned everything to the lock box, which she re-locked in the drawer again. She stood, almost nose to nose with Mai. “You are not lady of manor here. Do not speak to me that way ever again,” Olga said. “You are professional. I give you no slack.”
“You cut slack, not give it.”
“Whichever. There is perfectly good punching bag in gym downstairs. You will find it helpful.”
26
Unaccustomed Emotions
Merrifield, Virginia
Mai entered the Merrifield Postal Center and saw a familiar face dispensing stamps and other services. Two more members of her team sorted mail and placed it in postal boxes. The rest of the team sat in a tactical vehicle disguised as a carpet cleaning van and watched the parking lot. She wore a transmitter with an open mic so they could move at her command.
Mai went to a personal mailbox set up for today’s adventure. Full of discarded junk mail for her to spend some time sorting, it would explain her lengthy presence. She positioned herself at a counter near box number 3203, the number in Alexei’s email to Cutter, and kept an eye on the window Cutter would have to go to for the key.
Fifteen minutes after the time Alexei had indicated he should arrive, Mai heard in her ear bud, “We have a possible. Forties, dressed in jeans and a camo jacket, five-ten, Caucasian. Arrived in a beat-up Chevy Citation. Ran the plate number. William E. Foxx. HQ’s doing background.”
Mai saw the man matching that description enter. “Too late,” she murmured. “I’ll have to engage without it.”
Foxx went to the window staffed by the disguised Directorate operative. After checking the man’s identification, he handed over a key.
To Mai he transmitted, “ID said William Foxx.”
“Got it.”
Foxx had to walk past Mai to get to the drop box. When he did, she abandoned the stack of mail and followed him. He unlocked the drop box and took an envelope from it. From behind him but beyond his reach, she said, “Cutter?”
