by Rob Jones
Lexi obliged them, and sat on the edge of the bed. Scarlet and Karlsson sat opposite her on comfortable leather chairs. Several moments of silence followed until Karlsson spoke up: “Well, this is awkward…”
“We heard a nasty rumor that you stole our map,” Scarlet said, her eyes glancing over the large room. “And then pretended to be dead.”
“Well…”
Scarlet scowled at her. “If I had my way you wouldn’t have to pretend.”
“I’m sorry about all of this… like I said to Richard, I was blackmailed. I never stole the map!”
“Save it, Lexi,” Karlsson said.
Lexi stared at Scarlet, imploring her to believe what she was saying. “It’s the truth, Scarlet, I swear it. Sorokin was blackmailing me – he said he’d kill my parents if…”
“I’m not buying any of it,” Scarlet said, “so stop wasting your breath.”
“But it’s true,” Lexi insisted. She held her phone up and showed them the photo of an elderly couple being held at gunpoint. They didn’t need to know it was taken less than an hour ago by two of her colleagues just to give her a cover story. That was the way this business rolled – deceit and dishonesty for the greater good.
Scarlet took the phone and stared at the image. It was dark, but she could easily make out an older Chinese man and woman sitting on plastic chairs. They were blindfolded and gagged and seemed to be in what looked like a kitchen.
She sighed and handed the phone back to Lexi . “It’s possible you’re telling the truth,” she said, reluctantly. “But I’ve never trusted you in the way Hawke does, so any funny business and you can expect trouble from me – all right, darling?”
Lexi looked like she wanted to say something, but thought better of it, and simply slipped her phone back inside her jacket without saying a word.
“Hawke’s too soft on you,” Scarlet continued, still not entirely convinced by Lexi’s story. “Don’t make the mistake of thinking I’m like him.”
“You know I won’t,” Lexi replied in an ambiguous tone.
“And where’s the map, hun?” Karlsson.
“It’s in a bank.”
“How very convenient.”
“It is! After I had time to think, I realized how vulnerable I was.”
“You?” Scarlet said in disbelief. “You’re about as vulnerable as a cobra.”
“Listen,” Lexi said, trying to calm the situation. “It’s true… after they killed Sorokin I knew I would be next – you didn’t see the hit outside the airport. Whoever did it was incredibly professional, totally ruthless.”
“It was Ekel Kvashnin,” Scarlet said coolly.
Lexi gasped. “Kamchatka?”
“The very same,” Scarlet said, “or Kodiak, if you’re an American like Bradley darling, here.” She smiled at him.
“She loves me!”
“I wouldn’t go that far, Brad,” Scarlet said. “Let’s say you’re on probation.”
“Ouch,” Brad said, smirking, but Lexi was unmoved by the banter, her face deadly serious.
“It was really Kamchatka?”
Scarlet nodded. “Yes.”
“Then I was right to be so concerned and take the map to the bank.” Her words seemed to trail into nowhere.
Scarlet didn’t reply. She was too busy thinking about the next strategy. Lexi had looked surprised enough when she had told her about Kodiak being the hit-man who had killed Yevgeny Sorokin in the botched attempt to secure the map, but who Kodiak was working for was still a mystery to them.
She hoped Hawke had made progress with retrieving Nightingale, and like the former SBS man she too had presumed early on that her kidnapping must be related to the search for the elixir of life. It was just too much of a coincidence for it to be anything else, but she did allow for the fact that Nightingale was a former CIA agent and would certainly have made many serious enemies over the years – the kind of enemy more than capable of orchestrating a successful snatch from a New York apartment and making someone simply disappear.
Scarlet Sloane tried to focus. It would be easy to see things as spinning totally out of control right now. First, as far as she was concerned, Lexi Zhang was now even less trustworthy than she was before, and that really was saying something. She had faked her own death and stolen the map, and was now claiming that all of this had happened while she was under the coercion of a Russian criminal by the name of Yevgeny Sorokin. The image of her hostage parents had looked real enough, but it would be simple to fake such a scene, especially if you had the experience, contacts and morals of the Dragonfly – and she’d certainly had the time to cook it up as well.
Then there was the fact that their team was dangerously divided again. Joe Hawke was chasing ghosts in New York City, and Lea Donovan and Ryan Bale had insisted on going with him to give him back-up. While Nightingale’s disappearance was almost certainly connected to the map, Scarlet never counted her chickens until they were running around her garden.
Her SAS training kicked in as usual – bang on time. She knew what she had to do – retrieve the map from the safety deposit box while keeping a cautious eye on Lexi at all times, and then contact Sir Richard Eden and report her progress. He was the center of operations and would brief her on the next phase. The risks were high – she knew Kodiak was out there somewhere in Berlin, and that a man of his particular talents would be closing in on them fast.
When she spoke, her tone left no room for debate. “All right, we’re going to need that map now, Lexi, and you’re going to take us to it.”
*
The man known to the Russian underworld as Kamchatka, but more familiar to Western intelligence agencies under the codename Kodiak, pushed back in his seat and stretched his arms. It had been a long wait, but as the old Russian proverb went, patience and labor will grind everything, and that was certainly the case now as he watched the beautiful Chinese woman leave the lobby of the Waldorf Astoria and make her way along Hardenbergstrasse.
The only problem was that she was no longer alone. Now, she was being accompanied by two others – a large man who looked like he knew his way around a gym, and someone whose role-model he presumed was Catwoman. Neither looked like they could stop Kamchatka from completing his mission. They walked to the road where someone from the hotel parking service pulled up in a BMW 7 Series and handed the man the keys.
Thanks to the laser microphone on the lap of the dead taxi driver beside him, he knew they didn’t have the map on them, and that it was in a safety deposit box at a bank, but unfortunately they hadn’t given the name of which bank, so he would be obliged to follow them all the way to the precious treasure. He couldn’t risk any more mistakes after failing to kill the Chinese woman the first time and securing the map back at the airport. He knew his failure would have been reported by now, and he also knew only too well the folly of failing his leader.
Now, his targets climbed into the BMW and pulled gently away into the Berlin traffic.
Kamchatka pushed down the window and flicked his cigarette butt into the icy air. A moment later he fired up the Merc’s ignition and rolled the heavy car out into the traffic a hundred yards or so behind his targets. They would lead him right to the map and then he would have redeemed himself.
CHAPTER SIX
The holding room was small and uncomfortable. Typical government hospitality, Hawke considered philosophically. They were sitting around a table in handcuffs and their only distraction was two small windows, one of which looked out on a brick wall a few yards away – which Hawke had already dismissed as a potential egress point – and the other was an internal window through which they could see part of a long corridor.
On the other side of this narrow window, a man in uniform was standing with his back to them, presumably their guard.
“Hey,” Lea said. “Check that out – we have company.”
“I’m not checking anything out,” Ryan said. He was leaning back in his chair with his eyes closed. “I don’t ca
re who it is. They’re all tossbags.”
But Hawke followed Lea’s gaze and immediately saw what all the fuss was about.
“Woah! I didn’t see that coming,” he said.
“Me neither,’ said Lea, leaning forward in her chair. “I haven’t been this excited since our divorce came through, Ry.”
“I’m not opening my eyes,” Ryan said. “I know you’re just trying to get me to open my eyes and I’m just saying that I’m not going to.”
“I really think you should, mate.”
“Joe’s right, Ry. You should definitely open your eyes.”
“Nope.”
Lea gave a frown. “I’m guessing this means we’re in deeper shit than we thought.”
Hawke laughed. “I would say you’re a good guesser.”
Lea nudged Ryan playfully in the side with her elbow. “Are you absolutely sure you don’t want to know who’s about to walk into your life, Ry?”
“As I said, you’re just messing with me, so no. You two losers probably have a bet going or something. I open my eyes and the freaking janitor’s coming, and so on.”
“Have it your way, mate.”
Lea bit her lip as she cast her mind back. “I’m also guessing this means the big boys had Nightingale under some pretty chunky surveillance.”
Hawke nodded. “Another good guess, I’d say, but then not massively surprising since she was a former CIA asset and had done more hacking than a coal miner.”
Lea shook her head in amazement. “But this…”
Hawke shrugged. “Just goes to show, you never know.”
“Looks like it’s show-time,” Lea said. The group in the corridor were now at the door to the holding room. The guard snapped to attention and saluted. “Last chance, Ryan.”
He sighed dramatically. “Nice try, but no cigar. Eyes are staying shut.”
Hawke rolled his eyes.
The door opened.
Agent Dempsey walked in first and a second later several men in suits were standing in front of them, imposing, unsmiling.
“You already know me,” Dempsey said, businesslike, “and I’m sure you know Jack Brooke, the US Secretary of Defense.”
Ryan’s eyes opened wide like saucers and he nearly fell off his chair.
“We know the Secretary,” Hawke said.
“And now I know you all,” Brooke said firmly, with no hint of a pleasantry in sight. “Especially you, Mr Hawke. Former SBS, British Special Forces, and now some kind of globe-trotting action-man wannabe, am I right?”
Hawke suppressed a smile and kept his cool. “And you’re Jack Brooke, former Delta soldier, and now some kind of pen-pushing President wannabe, am I right?”
Agent Dempsey and the other BDS men looked to Brooke for a reaction, but when the Secretary cracked half a grin and nodded in appreciation of the response, they relaxed and took a step back.
Brooke sat down opposite Hawke and put his hands on the table. “Mr Hawke, I want you to tell me why you were in Agent Nightingale’s apartment.”
Hawke looked at the man. He had seen him enough times on the television news but he looked different up close and personal – older, more wrinkles, and a cast-iron slate-gray stare.
“Because she called me and asked for help just before they took her.”
Secretary Brooke frowned deeply. “I see. And how does she know you in the first place?”
For a short moment, Hawke thought about spinning the Pentagon chief some kind of yarn. They weren’t just talking about Joe Hawke, he contemplated, but also Agent Nightingale. For all he knew she didn’t want the details of her relationships spilled all over the floor, no matter who was asking, but this was one of the most senior men in the American Government, and at this point Hawke was fresh out of ideas about how to save his friend. He knew his best play was to try and get Brooke onside as soon as possible, and you didn’t do that by kicking things off with a bunch of lies.
“She saved my life when she worked for the CIA. As I say, I was in her apartment because I was trying to help her. That’s all – and it’s the truth.”
“I believe you,” Brooke said,
“You’d take our word just like that?” Ryan said, still shocked that one of the most powerful men on the planet was now sitting opposite him.
Brooke stared him down and fixed his eyes back on Hawke. “Of course I wouldn’t take your word for it.” He produced Hawke’s phone from a pocket, confiscated from the Englishman earlier when they were arrested back in Tribeca. “But I would take Agent Nightingale’s word for it.”
Hawke looked down at the message she had sent him. The image of the man with the knife was right there again, mocking him, enraging him. He raised his eyes from the phone back up to Brooke.
“For this reason, I know you’re legitimate and not lying to me, so I’m prepared to hear you out and give you a chance.”
Hawke nodded. “Good, but what I don’t understand is what any of this has got to do with you. Just what do you know about all of this?”
Brooke hesitated for a moment before replying. It looked like he was debating with himself just how much information to give them, and Hawke guessed that was exactly what was going on. After a few seconds of heavy silence, Brooke responded.
“I know more than you can imagine – I’m the US Defense Secretary, Mr Hawke.”
“I understand that, but why were your men at Nightingale’s apartment?”
Another pause. “She was under surveillance.”
“Some great surveillance…” Lea said, but shut up immediately when Brooke turned his slate gray eyes to her.
“Who took her?” Hawke asked.
Brooke got straight to business. “We think a Russian citizen named Maxim Vetrov is behind the kidnapping, and that it has something to do with some work the agent was working on in relation to you.”
“Me?” Hawke was stunned – his fears had been confirmed. He had put Nightingale’s life in danger.
“Yes, you and your team working under the British politician, Eden.”
“You know about Sir Richard?” Lea asked, concerned.
Brooke nodded gravely. “This goes higher than you can possibly imagine, any of you, including Sir Richard Eden.”
Hawke, Lea and Ryan shared a concerned glance.
Brooke continued. “Unfortunately what we’re dealing with here is so highly classified that only a handful of people know about it in the entire world, so you’ll understand when I tell you that I can only release certain information to you and no more.”
“Of course,” Hawke said. “Who is this Vetrov character?”
“Maxim Vetrov is the original Russian oligarch. He has everything you can think of and then ten times more – the luxury apartments, the private islands and the yachts. He’s even been to space three times on the Russian Space Program just for the hell of the ride up there.”
Lea sighed. “Sounds like he has money to burn.”
“If he burned his money he’d have enough to power New York City…” Brooke said, still no hint of a smile. “Our profilers tell me he exhibits the classic signs of a sociopath and an egomaniac, and we know for a fact he has personally killed dozens of people, mostly enemies but some of his own just for recreation purposes.”
“What an asshole,” Lea said.
Brooke ignored her. “Of course, we always have people like Vetrov under surveillance, but things got more interesting very recently when he had another Russian businessman named Sorokin killed in Berlin.”
“Who?” Hawke said.
“Yevgeny Sorokin was a drugs kingpin from Moscow. Not the kind of person we’d waste too much of our precious time on, but we started paying more attention to him recently when he started communicating with Sheng Fang, with whom I know you are acquainted.”
“Don’t remind me,” Lea said.
Hawke looked at her and knew she was thinking about Luk. It had bothered him too that they were unable to take the Hong Kong psychopath down, but now wasn’t t
he time to worry about it. He returned his gaze to the Secretary. “Go on, please.”
“Sheng hired Sorokin to deliver our stolen Tesla device into Tokyo Bay, as you all know.”
Ryan lowered his head and covered his eyes. Lea turned and put an arm around his shoulder.
“For that, Mr Bale, we all have a great deal to thank you for. I will tell you in confidence that the President of the United States is aware of the role you personally played in retrieving the device and is truly grateful to you – to you all. It’s another reason why you’re talking to me right now and not in Sing Sing waiting for your lawyers.”
Brooke turned to Hawke. “To say Sorokin was a double-crosser is an understatement. He always planned on betraying Sheng right from the start, but unfortunately for him, Maxim Vetrov has had long-standing plans of his own to locate the source of eternal life.” He looked at their shocked faces. “Yes, I know all about that, of course.”
“I see… and that’s why he killed Sorokin?” Hawke said.
Brooke nodded. “Yes, outside the airport in Berlin. His plan was to kill both Sorokin and the Chinese agent Zhang Xiaoli, but she got away with the map.”
Hawke frowned. It was beginning to sound like Dragonfly wasn’t the traitor he had thought she was. “But what I don’t understand is why Vetrov kidnapped Agent Nightingale – it can’t be just for her research into the map, surely.”
Brooke cleared his throat and glanced around the room uncomfortably.
“Agent Nightingale calls herself Alexandra Reeve.”
Hawke looked at the Pentagon Chief and almost smiled. He’d known the enigmatic former CIA agent for many years and in all that time she’d played many games with him about her name. Now, at last, he knew. “I didn’t know that,” he said. “I never knew her real name.”
“I said she calls herself that, it’s not her real name, Hawke.”
“I don’t understand.”
“Her real name is Alexandra Brooke.”
“You mean…”
Secretary Brooke’s eyes narrowed with emotion for a moment and the silence in the grim holding room grew heavier. “That’s right, Hawke. Alex is my daughter.”
