The Perfect Weapon

by Christopher Metcalf

  “Anton.” The name was whispered through teeth gritted in pain.

  “Where?” Preacher was unmoved by the name.

  “Vienna. He is a policeman, a detective.”

  Lance smiled at the man and reached down and grabbed the lapels of his jacket to pull him up to a seated position. “Thank you. I am sorry to have to put you through this. But you knew what you were signing up for when you took this job back before I was even born.”

  “Yes, I knew.” The Russian spy sputtered and rubbed his neck.

  “I know you have to live in doubt after our encounter this morning, but I can tell you without any hesitation, that I will not divulge the source of the information. I was never here. And if we ever meet again, it will be because I need your assistance. I feel the time is near that people like us will have a new and common enemy.” Lance got up and rapidly walked out of the alley. He took a bus across town, and then another before boarding a train that took him through Salzburg, then Linz and into Vienna just four hours later. Customs was no problem for a young American tourist backpacking across the heart of Europe. His money was appreciated everywhere it was spent.

  “So that brings you to Vienna two days ago right?” Marta was now propped up on her elbow looking down at him. For another moment, Lance was lost again looking at her. She was glorious with her hair falling down over her shoulder. He looked from her face to her shoulders and then down her body to her lovely feet. She lay naked beside him, just for him. He couldn’t help but reach for her and trace the silhouette of her body as far as his hand could reach. She let him take his time and smiled at his involuntary smile.

  “I’m sorry. What was your question?” He brought his eyes back to hers.

  She shook her head and dropped her face to the pillow. “Oh god.”

  “What? What is it?” He brushed her hair from the side of her face and then rubbed his hand down her lovely back. He brushed his lips down to her left shoulder blade and kissed it. This too, was an involuntary action. He experienced a number of them in her presence. “What is it?”

  She turned her head from the pillow. “This is just so crazy. I don’t...” she couldn’t find the words. Lance didn’t respond verbally. Instead he kissed her back below her shoulder blade. “Lance.”

  “Yes.” He was further down, almost to the small of her back.

  “You know what I am going to say.” She was direct, as always.

  Lance was no fool and recognized his cue to break from this round of kissing. He brought his face to the pillow next to hers, keeping a hand on her back, again involuntarily. “Do I?”

  “I need to say it.” The smile faded from her face. It was replaced by a serious stare that pierced him.

  “I’m not stopping you.” He smiled just a little. “Would you like me to say it first?”

  “Yes. That would be reassuring.” She reached and took his hand.

  “Okay then,” he rose onto his elbow and reached down and pulled the sheet up over them. Then he rolled her from her stomach onto her back. He swept the hair away from her face and behind her ear. He could see her serious look from moments ago was now headed for tears. He caressed her cheek and then her lips with a fingertip and stared into her mesmerizing eyes. “I love you.”

  The tears came. She used the sheet up to soak up the saltwater. They looked at each other for a few endless moments. This was a first for each of them.

  “Are you reassured?” He smiled and she joined him. She pulled him to her and covered him with kisses and more tears.

  She broke away and laughed and cried. “I don’t think I want to say I love you.”

  This set Lance back for a shocking moment. “Okay.”

  She smiled broader and brighter and kissed him again. “No, silly. Love is the wrong word now. I have to say that, more than love you, I need you.”

  The smile returned to Lance’s face. “Really. That’s serious.”

  “Very.” Her lovely procerus muscle pulled her beautiful eyebrows together.

  “And how long have you felt this way?” Lance took this opportunity to wipe away a tear rolling down Marta’s cheek.

  “From the first moment. The moment I first saw you in Baghdad.”

  “Even after I shot you?”

  “Twice.”

  “After I shot you twice.” Lance winced at the thought for maybe the 3,000th time in just over five months.

  “Yes. Even though you wanted to kill me. My feelings for you have not changed at all, except to feel an even greater need. You have infected me.”

  “Infected?” Lance furrowed his brow at her choice of words. “And is there a cure for this?”

  “No. None. This is a terminal condition.”

  “And if I were to shoot you again?” He tilted his face away in a wry smile.

  “It would hurt, but not as much as losing you.” The serious look returned to her face. She was afflicted in this moment.

  Lance brought his lips to hers and then traced her chin, cheek and eyes with his lips. The salt of her tears tasted like love. He smiled at that thought. It sounded like a line from a trashy romance novel. “I think we are going to have to get out of this bed in a little while and do some serious talking.”

  “Yes. In a little while.” She kissed him again and pulled him to her. Then she kissed his cheek and neck and spoke into his ear. “And you will have to finish your story. But in a little while.” A little while took longer to get to than either expected. But neither minded.

  Chapter 16

  Morning turned to afternoon. The world and its demands and timelines and dangers passed them by for one day. She was just a girl, and he just a boy in love with her. It was easy. It was anything but reality, but it was nice for a few short hours.

  Marta brewed French press coffee. Lance made toast, his specialty. They sat down at the small table and talked about anything but business. She asked him about baseball. He admitted he wasn’t much of a fan, but gave her a quick tutorial on football, American-style. She enjoyed sitting there, listening to him talk. Without her asking, he eased into her favorite character, Bart Radish.

  “And then, there are them thar touchdown dances. Don’t care much for them, but some are downright creative.” The fun lasted for a few more minutes until Marta got them back on task with a simple question.

  “What do we do now Lance?” She sipped her coffee after asking him.

  “I have to admit that, kind of like our last time together, I never thought past seeing you. I honestly haven’t considered next steps.”

  “What is your mission?” It was a direct question like usual. But this one carried baggage and strings. His hesitation didn’t concern her in the least. “I understand your need to keep mission particulars secret. I just want to know the basics, like where will you be and how long we will be apart. I am asking for very selfish reasons.”

  “Like I said, I hadn’t considered next steps and how we proceed.” He rubbed the back of her hand where the scar from the gunshot marred the beauty of her skin. “Listen, I want to be very clear with you. I am a liar. I lie every day, every hour of every day. But I am not lying in the least when I say that I want you in my life.” He gestured to the table and the room. “I want this. I honestly have no idea how we do it, how we can make this happen, but I want it.”

  “Do you need it?” Seriousness was back in her eyes.

  “More than you do.”

  “You’re wrong. You have known this or something like this before. For me it is a revelation. I am not the same person I was six months ago.”

  “That’s funny.” He circled his finger around the raised scar on her hand.

  “How is it funny?”

  “I could say the exact thing, those very words. I am not the same person I was every day of my life before seeing you, meeting you in Baghdad.” He sat back and bent his knee to bring his bare foot up onto the chair he sat on. He wrapped his left arm around the leg. Several bruises were obvious. “Meeting you changed me. I was
just saying that to myself the other night in that alley in Munich, and before that, several months ago in an alley in Hamburg. I have been changed by this, by you. And you have to know, I have never known anything like this.”

  She sipped her coffee and took a bite of toast with jelly. “How are you changed? How are you different from before?”

  “Lots of ways really. You, the image and thought of you invade my mind at the strangest moments. The thought of you makes me stop, for just the briefest moment, and think about my next step. It’s like you’re with me in some way. Very strange.”

  She laughed at this. She grasped his hand in both of hers. “You just took the words out of my mouth. Just yesterday evening in Budapest, I had to shake my head to get you out of there, right in the middle of that café. It is a little frustrating.”

  “Yes, that’s it. It’s frustrating to not be able to control it.”

  “Exactly,” she brought his hand to her lips. “I’m infected by you.”

  “No cure?” He asked.

  “No cure.” She replied.

  They moved from the kitchen table to the living room. They were kneeling at the coffee table. Spread out on the table were three maps. They were slightly more dressed than before, and in full strategic mode.

  “From Mindanao, I’ll likely head through Indonesia and India to Pakistan. My assumption is, it will be three weeks to a month before I am back in Europe.” Lance moved a finger from Pakistan to Vienna.

  “A month? That's too long.” She went back to Pakistan on a map of Asia. “Perhaps during your stay in Pakistan you can get away for a day or two in Dubai. There are several flights each day from Karachi.”

  “I’m afraid I’m going to be a ways from Karachi. Maybe Peshawar, possibly Quetta.”

  “There is nothing in Quetta. I know, don’t ask.” They had agreed not to ask details or contacts, just locations. “Quetta?”

  “I know. Go to hell and hang a left.” He cracked a joke.

  She laughed. “That’s funny. You could say that about a lot of places I’ve been.”

  “So what about you? Where will I find you if I need to?” He focused on Europe.

  “My plans will take me to Bucharest and Kiev for sure. And then most likely Moscow.” She moved her fingers across the map, somewhat tentatively. He noticed.

  “You’re not sure?”

  “No. My plans are changing daily. The generalities are the same, but I have been rebuilding my team since Baghdad.”

  He sat back on his feet. “Sorry.”

  “Don’t apologize. You were successful in your mission. You were more than successful, you were amazing, from what I heard.” She moved to sit against the sofa behind her.

  “What else did you hear?”

  “No details, must I remind you?” Her smile concealed nothing.

  “We are going to have to talk about one detail.”

  “I think I have a good idea.”

  “He will find out, if he hasn’t already. He’ll find out about us and he’ll surely feel the need to get involved somehow.” Lance brought his hand up to his chin to think.

  “We are players on his chessboard are we not?” Her use of chess was ironic. He had thought the very same thing when he realized Seibel was behind just about everything. His is the invisible hand moving pieces on a board game of his own creation.

  “I’m sure he’s already got people looking for me. He undoubtedly knows about my flight to Antwerp. He wouldn’t have to make much of a leap to put two and two together and figure out I was looking for you. Hell, he probably thinks we have seen each other several times since Baghdad.”

  She looked at the maps for a few moments, lost in thought. “Do you think that is what he wants? This is what he wants?” She gestured to the two of them.

  “Do you mean us?”

  “Yes, you and me together. Is that what he had planned all along?” She raised her eyebrows. It was not the first time she had thought of this.

  “I’ve thought of that. Wondered if you are the reason I’m in this game.” Lance leaned back against the couch.

  “Does that change how you feel?”

  “About you?”

  “Yes.”

  “You and I both know Seibel is the master manipulator. His little plans and schemes affect us all. My feelings about you have nothing to do with him. He may have had something in mind when he found me, but he never mentioned you in more than a passing manner. You were at the periphery of the Baghdad mission. I was completely surprised to stumble across you there.” Lance smiled and then closed his eyes. He went out of body and back to Baghdad above the apartment building he'd entered, supposedly to get a bird’s eye view of the action below. But what if?

  What if it was all his plan? What if he sent Lance into that building for the sole purpose of running into Marta and her team? Now that would be devious. And so like Seibel.

  “Where do you go?”

  He opened his eyes. “What?”

  “When you close your eyes and sometimes even when they are open. You leave. Where do you go?”

  He pursed his lips. Damn. She had him figured out pretty dang well for the few short days and nights they had spent together. “I drift.”

  “You do it a lot.”

  “I know.”

  “I saw it twice in Baghdad and several times at the villa. I wonder what you see when you drift away.”

  “Do you want to go with me?” He raised his eyebrows and went Cheshire Cat with his grin.

  “Yes, take me.”

  He crawled around the table and sat next to her. He took her hand in his and kissed it, then closed his eyes. “You are from Novosibirsk right?”

  “Yes. You turn right at hell.”

  He laughed at that. “Mother Russia’s third largest city, you know. East or west side of the river?”

  “I’m sorry?”

  “Which side of the river did you live on?”

  “East.”

  “Northwest or southeast of prospect Derzhinskogo?” He referenced a major thoroughfare.

  She looked at him, with his eyes closed, and wondered again what he saw. Did he know about her childhood? Did he know about her? “Southeast.”

  “West or east of Ulitsa Borisa Bogatkova?”

  “East.”

  “North or south of Ulitsa Kirova?”

  “Lance. I don’t...”

  “Almost done. Please.”

  “South.” He didn’t know about it. He wouldn’t do this if he did. If he knew what it did to her.

  From 50,000, then 10,000, and now 2,000-feet over Novosibirsk, Lance peered down on the largest city in Siberia. He was looking now at a satellite image taken probably a year ago. Lance had seen it, and hundreds of other images, on his most recent trip to Langley. He saw rooftops of houses and apartment buildings and warehouses and train tracks. The Ob River cut the city in half. He was enjoying the drill-down until a moment ago when Marta’s voice gave up a good bit of emotion he hadn’t heard before. He decided to stop.

  He opened his eyes and smiled at her. In her eyes, he saw the tinge of emotion evident in her voice. “Sorry. Stupid party trick.”

  “That’s okay. What did you see?”

  “Your hometown, from a few miles up.”

  “Satellite image?”

  “Yes.”

  “Can you see a lot of them?”

  “Yep.”

  “Right now?”

  “Yes. Right now.”

  “Do you need to close your eyes?”

  “No. It just helps me get a clearer image.”

  “Just photography?”

  “Photos, maps, people.”

  “Photographic memory?” She was an inquisitor by nature.

  “I don’t think so. Maybe.”

  “See, you are even more special. I knew it. I think you may be the most gifted person I’ve ever met.”

  “No way. Nothing special, just weird. I’m anything but special. Strange yes. But not special, not like y
ou.”

  “Lance. I don’t believe for a moment that you haven’t known since you were a little boy that you were special, unique. I’ll bet you had to work hard just to keep your talents hidden from others. You were probably an average student, average athlete, average everything.”

  “You got it. Guilty.” He smiled and shook his head.

  “So how did Geoffrey find you?”

  “Foreign Service Officer exam. He ran across my application and questionnaire.”

  “Oh yes. The questionnaire. I know about that.”

  “You see, right there. You have a significant advantage over me. You have been exposed to Seibel for 10 or 15 more years than me. You know some trade secrets I don’t.”

  “Not really. He is still a mystery to me. I only know what he wants me to know. Plus a little more I suppose he doesn’t know I've learned.” She grinned a little at that.

  “You’ll have to share some of that with me.”

  “Later. You still owe me the last day and a half of tracking me. Tell me how you discovered my secret hideout and how you got this little scratch.” She circled her finger around the cut and bruise she had cleaned extensively and kissed dozens of times. “And I assume these little bruises probably have a story as well.” She rubbed her hand from his ribs to his legs. She had examined the extensive bruising the night before and found nothing broken.

  Chapter 17

  “I’m sorry to have to tell you that Anton is dead.”

  They had moved up to opposite ends of the couch with their legs entwined. He held her bare foot in his hands massaging it. He had to be careful because she was extremely ticklish.