“He is also dead. I did not take these photos I’m going to show you. Venable sent them to me because you were involved, and he thought you should be advised. I take it you worked with Jantzen?”
She nodded. “We worked several drug busts together in Caracas and Quito. He’s a good guy. I liked him.”
“A good friend.” He nodded. “As good a friend as a loner like you permits herself.” He handed her the phone again. “With the exception of my humble self.”
She flinched as she saw the photos of Jantzen’s body torn by bullets. “He had a wife and a kid. He was always talking about how smart his little girl was. What happened to him?”
“A trap. He called Venable and told him that the meeting with the informant was bogus. They knew he was CIA.” He paused. “And they knew his connection with you.” He pulled out a small box and handed it to her. “This was wrapped around his hand when they found him.”
She opened the box and pulled out a fine gold chain. But it had a circular ID plaque hanging from the chain with her name engraved on the surface. “Dog tags? I don’t wear dog tags even when I’m in the jungle. Certainly not gold ones.” The metal felt oddly warm in her palm. This strange chain had been held by Jantzen, and she had the feeling that some of his vitality lingered. God, his poor wife, Laura; what would she do now? It was easy to say that everyone survived, but how? “I need to call his wife.”
“She hasn’t been informed yet. Venable wanted to explore the reasons why he was targeted, so that he had something concrete to tell her.”
She looked down at the dog tag. “What can he tell her about this stupid dog tag? It doesn’t make sense.”
“Neither does this.” Hu Chang pulled out another gold dog tag. “Olena was wearing it. Ivan said it looked like a gift. They’re both eighteen-karat gold and very fine workmanship.”
“No coincidence,” she whispered. “Halfway across the world but no coincidence.”
“That was my thought when I received word from Venable.” He paused. “And I received another message from him right before I arrived here. There are no photos yet, but he’s just heard that a Kirov Slantkey was shot in the head while riding his motorcycle in Moscow. Venable said you’d know.”
“Yes. Slantkey was the informant who told me Rakovac was holding Luke in Russia after he was kidnapped. It narrowed down the search area. I was very grateful to him.” She leaned back in her chair. She felt weak and confused and unbearably sad. Get it together. Something bad was going down, and she had to identify and stop it. “Three deaths. All connected to me?”
He inclined his head. “I would wager that Slantkey will have a piece of gold jewelry with your name on it.”
“Which could have either incriminated me or sent a message.”
“I believe it was the latter.”
“Why? I did care about all those people, but it’s not like they were family.”
“Not like a son,” Hu Chang said softly.
Luke.
Panic raced through her.
“That’s why you were checking security. You think he’s in danger?”
“I think someone does not appreciate you. Extreme bad taste, but it’s very evident. He’s spelling it out for us in gold.”
“Then why not go after me? I should be the target.”
“We won’t know that until we’re told. Or we discover for ourselves.” He was studying her expression. “You are as upset as I thought you’d be. I think I will allow you a few minutes to get over the first shock. I cannot give you more because I believe we have little time.”
“I’m fine,” she said jerkily. “As fine as I can be, considering that good people are dying all around me.”
“Shh. Just take those few minutes.”
Perhaps he was right, she was terribly upset and sad and angry. And frightened because it was clear Hu Chang believed Luke might be next. Take those minutes and try to gather her strength and mind to find answers.
She leaned back and was immediately assaulted with memories of Olena. She had been too far gone on the drugs to furnish Catherine with affection during those early days on the dock. But she had shared food and what little protection she could. And when Catherine’s mother had died of an overdose, she knew Olena had shared her pain. So different from Jantzen, who was strong and kind and able to control his own life.
Until the night when that control had been shattered by those bullets.
“Okay.” She drew a deep breath. “What’s happening, Hu Chang? You’ve known about this for at least a few days. You’ve had time to think about it. Right now, I’m having trouble thinking at all.”
“Understandable. Pain tends to obscure.” Hu Chang tilted his head thoughtfully. “It appears that you must be the primary target. But why are these other kills thrown at your door? I believe I see a pattern here. It’s like a circle. On the far outer rim is Olena Petrov, who helped you when you were a child. Then Jantzen, who was part of your life after you became an agent with the CIA. Then Slantkey, who helped you to regain your child. The circle is narrowing, becoming more intimate.”
And Luke was the center, the heart of that intimacy, she thought with a chill.
And not only Luke.
“Whoever did this knows me very well. He’d know about you, Hu Chang.”
“Without doubt. For I have made myself indispensable to you.” He smiled. “But because I’m so essential, I will be one of the last to be chosen to bid adieu to you.”
“You think it’s going to go on.” She moistened her lips. “So do I. It’s crazy, but I can see that weird circle you’re drawing, and it’s scaring me.”
“It’s supposed to scare you. That’s part of the plan. You’re supposed to be afraid, to dread, to anticipate, to suffer with every death.” He gazed at the gold chain in her hand. “It’s a plan that has been well thought out, even to those expensive little trinkets he’s using as a calling card. Do they have any significance for you?”
“No.”
“Then we look at them as just that, a calling card. However, I may be able to trace the purchaser if I use my contacts.”
“Then do it,” she said unevenly. “I want this over quickly.”
“But your enemy does not. He’s making a ceremony of it. Taking away your support and the people you care about one by one.”
“There have only been three so far.”
“I believe there will be more. We must try to mitigate or eliminate the harm.” He took out a notebook and pen from his pocket. “But I have to know who those targets will be, Catherine.”
“I’m supposed to make you a list? How can I do that?”
“I’m sure that the person who killed Olena Petrov has a list.” He added, “But the circle is narrowing, and you may not have to list everyone from your past. Just your present. The names that come easily to your mind.”
Catherine shook her head. It was positively macabre, choosing who you had to worry about dying because they were part of your life. Macabre and dark and wrong. She started to write quickly. A few minutes later she handed the notebook back to Hu Chang.
He glanced at the names. “The usual names I knew you would choose. Luke, O’Neill, myself, your young friend Kelly Winters, our charming Chen Lu, Erin Sullivan, Eve Duncan. A few omitted that I would have guessed you would have included.”
“You said anyone from my present who comes easily to my mind. Those I omitted can either very well take care of themselves, or there would be no obvious connection.”
“Such as Richard Cameron?”
Cameron. Hu Chang’s mentioning his name jarred her. Probably because she tried not to think of him at all. Their only encounter had been months ago but it had traversed both Tibet and San Francisco. They had both been involved in trying to rescue journalist Erin Sullivan and been forced to work together. Cameron was the security chief of a powerful secret conglomerate whose actions were often at odds with Catherine’s job with the CIA. A situation that had made for strange bedfellows
.
Strange, erotic, bedfellows that had made Catherine feel almost helpless to resist staying in that bed or following Cameron when they had parted. And that helplessness had only served to show her that she had been right to refuse to go with him.
“I haven’t seen Cameron since San Francisco, and he was never a part of my life,” she said.
“Debatable. But I agree he can take care of himself.” He closed the notebook. “And we have to hope that our list is the same as the killer who appears to be stalking you has.”
“That’s not good enough,” she said fiercely. “I won’t sit here waiting for him to pick off another person I care about. I have to find out who he is and go after him.”
“Absolutely.” He got to his feet and handed the notebook back to her. “So why don’t you make another list of all the people who hate you and have the resources and contacts to carry out a vendetta this elaborate. In the meantime, I will go and talk to Luke and Sam and tell them why we’ve been so rude as to ignore them.”
“You’re going to tell Luke about this?”
“Of course. Your instinct may be to protect him from knowing he’s a target, but that’s a mother’s instinct and has no basis in reality. He may be only twelve, but he’s led a life that has rid him of any hint of childhood. How can he protect himself if he doesn’t know that danger is out there?”
“I’ll protect him. Sam will protect him.” He was looking at her. “Okay, tell him. But he’ll only worry about me.”
“And so he should. It’s a son’s duty, and he must learn things of that nature.” The door closed behind him.
She leaned back in the chair.
Dammit, she was sad and shaken and didn’t want to have to handle this crisis that was looming over her.
And over Luke.
She looked down at the photo of Olena Petrov. You didn’t want to handle this either, did you, Olena? Such a terrible life, and we all thought it had turned around for you. It should have turned around. You shouldn’t have had someone come into your home and take your life just because you helped me when I was a little girl. It’s not right.
Jantzen. His little girl would never have him by her side again. Not right, either.
All of this scenario was wrong and ugly and looked as if it would continue if she couldn’t find a way to stop it.
So do what Hu Chang had told her to do. Look deep and find the name of the person who hated her enough to destroy everyone around her in order to hurt her before he took her life.
She flipped the notebook open.
Think.
Not as easy as the other list.
She was CIA, and she had made many enemies in her career. She had grown up on the streets of Hong Kong, and those years had not been free of conflict.
Weed through her life, which had been violent and brimful of people who might want her dead.
Give Hu Chang his list.
And then go after the vicious son of a bitch who had killed her friends.
* * *
“I think there are really only two possibilities,” she said when Hu Chang walked into the library thirty minutes later. “One is Charles Corliss, who was a gun runner in the Middle East. He also had a hand in smuggling chemical weapons out of Syria into Iran. Three years ago, I was instrumental in busting up his sweet little deal with Iran and in the process put a bullet in his kneecap that caused him permanent disability. Venable told me he’d put a price on my head.”
“And the other?”
“Tomas Santos. He was a kingpin drug dealer in Caracas and had a network of criminal organizations that extended from Venezuela to Mexico.”
“Had?”
“We managed to find enough evidence and witnesses not too terrified to testify to put him away for twenty years. He’s in a maximum-security prison in Caracas.”
“Then why is he a candidate?”
“You said to find someone who hates me. Santos hates me.”
“For putting him away?”
She shook her head. “I was one of the force who went to his penthouse to arrest him. He had a helicopter standing by on the roof to whisk him away to Iran, where he couldn’t be extradited. He tried to get to it. We stopped him.”
Hu Chang’s eyes narrowed. “But that’s not all.”
“No. I shot and killed his wife, Delores Santos.”
“An innocent bystander?”
“Innocent? Delores Santos stopped being innocent when she left the cradle. She was an active partner with her husband in all his drug trafficking and reputed to be as vicious as he was. At that penthouse shoot-out, she’d already taken down one of the local police detectives before I got off a good shot.”
“And knowing your expertise, it was a very good shot.”
“She died in Santos’s arms. He looked up at me, and I’d never seen such hatred.”
“Threats?”
She shook her head. “But I saw him twice during his trial, and there didn’t have to be threats. The hatred was still there.”
“But he’s in prison?”
“That doesn’t mean he couldn’t manipulate things from inside. He had tremendous power and money stashed away all over the world. Dorgal, his second-in-command, was almost slavishly loyal and could have arranged the kills.”
“Corliss or Santos? What’s your choice?”
She shrugged. “It could be either.”
“Gut instinct.”
“Santos. Hatred. Plus I killed someone he cared about. Evidently, Delores Santos was his alter ego or something. Maybe he thinks this is a fitting way to punish me.”
“It seems that could be a reasonable assumption.”
“There’s nothing reasonable about this. It’s all ugly and crazy.” She looked down at the notebook. “What did you tell Luke?”
“Exactly what I told you I would tell him. O’Neill is in the process of bringing in extra security from his friends among the ex-CIA elite. All will be well.”
She prayed he was right.
“Those other names on that list,” she said brusquely. “We have to protect them. Until this is over, I’d like Erin to leave Tibet and go to Chen Lu’s golden palace in Hong Kong. Chen Lu has enough of a security force to make it fairly safe. Can you arrange it?”
“But of course I can. Erin Sullivan is very stubborn, but she has a great regard for my vast intellect.” He smiled. “Is this what they called in the Old West encircling the wagon train?”
“That sounds very strange coming from you. Yes, approximately. I’ll call Eve Duncan and give her a warning. If Joe’s at the lake house, that will be security enough for her.”
Hu Chang nodded. “Joe Quinn has a reputation for being very competent in that area.”
“Exceptionally. He’s an ex-SEAL and a police detective. That’s an effective combination.” She picked up her phone. “Get busy, Hu Chang. You forced me to mentally go over those scumbags who want to see me dead, and I’m tied up in knots. All these years, I’ve managed to block them out of my mind and forget them, but that’s gone now. I can’t have any other deaths.”
“You’re calling Eve?”
“No, not right now. I changed my mind. I’m calling Joe Quinn. He’s a police detective with Atlanta PD, and there’s no way he’ll let anything happen to Eve. If I called Eve direct, she’d want to come here and help. The only help I want is for her to keep safe. Right after I talk to Joe, I’m calling Venable. I want to check on the status of Corliss and Santos.”
“Wise.” He turned toward the door. “And I will go call Chen Lu and tell her to circle her particular wagons and prepare for visitors.”
“Good.” Joe Quinn’s phone was ringing, then he picked up. “Joe, Catherine Ling. Look, God, I’m sorry, but I have a problem, and you and Eve may become involved in it.” She filled him in quickly. “If you can protect Eve without letting her know what’s hanging over her, it might be a mercy.”
“Eve and I don’t play those games,” Joe said quietly. “She wouldn’t
thank me.” He was silent. “You’re okay?”
“I’m fine. Just take care of Eve.”
“No one will touch her,” he said flatly. “She’ll probably call you back. You’re her friend.”
“I thought as much. I just wanted to be sure that you were on top of it.”
“I’ll contact Venable and see if I can do anything to help out.”
“If you do, it’ll be from behind a desk or at your lake cottage. I don’t want you more than a few yards from Eve.”
“Bossy female.” There was a hint of amusement beneath the grimness in Joe’s voice.
“You bet. Bye, Joe.” She hung up.
CHAPTER
2
Catherine took a moment after talking to Joe, then dialed Venable.
“I expected to hear from you before this,” Venable said testily when he answered. “When I turned that information over to Hu Chang, it didn’t mean I was opting out. Jantzen was a good man, and I’m mad as hell.”
“Yes, he was, and so am I,” Catherine said. “Any more news about Slantkey?”
“A gold dog tag with your name in the pocket of his motorcycle jacket. He’s definitely one of yours.”
One of hers. One of the victims killed in her name. The casual words were cold, the responsibility even more chilling. “Hu Chang told you about Olena Petrov?”
“Yes, definitely a pattern.” He muttered a curse. “Jantzen was smart, he wouldn’t have walked into a trap if the bait hadn’t been presented with a cleverness that was impressive. It was a tip on an arms shipment that came out of the blue. It didn’t have anything to do with the mission he was currently working on.”
“And Olena wasn’t clever at all. She’d made wrong choices all her life. Maybe she felt safe in that home we’d given her and just threw open the door for her killer. Either way, they were both victims, and I have to find the bastards who killed them.”
“We have to find them,” Venable said. “I told you, I won’t let them kill my people and just walk away.” He paused. “And you’d be hard to replace. It would be easier just to take the son of a bitch down.”
“Sentimental, as usual. I’m touched.” She and Venable had been together since she was fourteen and selling information on the streets of Hong Kong and he was a CIA agent trying to strike a balance between the British and Chinese. He had trained her, schooled her, but he had never pampered her. She was an agent and took her risks. She would have thought it bizarre for him to do anything else. The job was everything to Venable. “I’m glad we’re thinking along the same lines. I came up with two names, Corliss and Santos. Give me an update on them.”
Your Next Breath Page 2
