Rogue Angel 51: The Pretender's Gambit

by Alex Archer

  “And then you would have spent the night asking me questions I don’t have the answers to. That wouldn’t have been good for either of us. I’m telling you now so you’ll know. The answers, if I’m lucky, are in Ukraine.” Annja didn’t like feeling she had to report to anyone, let alone Bart, but the search for the elephant was part of his murder investigation.

  “Where’s Onoprienko now?”

  “On his way to Odessa.”

  “Who is Onoprienko meeting there?”

  “I have no idea.”

  “Is Klykov holding out on you?”

  “I don’t think so.”

  Bart sighed grumpily. “You’re trusting that old guy too much, Annja.”

  “We’ll see. In the meantime, I’m going to grab breakfast and get ready for the flight. I just wanted you to know where I was and that maybe you’ll get a break on the case. If the ME and forensics people tie Onoprienko to the murder of Benyovszky, you should be able to get extradition, right?”

  “Maybe.”

  “Then let’s hope it works out like that.”

  “I appreciate it, but that’s not going to stop me from worrying about you.”

  “I worry about you, too, but you still have a job to do and I do, too. We can’t let worry stop us. We both love what we do, so we deal with it.”

  “I know, but this is kind of crazy.”

  “So is chasing killers through New York City and you do that every day.”

  “I don’t think of you doing something like this. I usually picture you in some quaint little restaurant eating the local fare and drinking wine after a long day playing in a sandbox digging up bones and trinkets somewhere.”

  Annja checked an immediate attack on his casual dismissal of her vocation. “That’s not what this job is.”

  “I’m getting that. You know I didn’t mean it like it sounded. It’s early. I’m not at my best. Call me when you can?”

  “I will.” Annja said goodbye and went looking for breakfast. Despite her fatigue, she felt energized. It was always good to be moving toward a goal.

  * * *

  “GOOD MORNING, ANNJA.”

  Glancing up from her tablet, Annja spotted Klykov standing only a few feet away from her table in the terminal’s lower food court. He was dressed in another neatly pressed suit and pulled a carry-on bag behind him. He held his fedora in the other hand.

  She smiled at him. “Good morning.”

  He pointed with the hat to the seat across the small table from her. “May I sit?”

  “Of course.” Annja took her tablet off the table and pulled her breakfast toward her to make room for him.

  Klykov sat and hung his fedora on the extended handles of his carry-on. “Sleep well?”

  “I got a couple hours’ sleep.” Even those had not been restful. Yesterday’s argument with Bart kept replaying in her head in spite of the polite conversation they’d had only a short time ago. And the violence in Onoprienko’s apartment thundered around in her brain, as well. Normally she didn’t think too much about events like those because once something was done there wasn’t much she could do about it, but she knew most of the feelings now were because the situation had involved Bart. “And you?”

  “I slept well enough. I have to admit, I’m excited about going on this trip. I mean, it’s one thing to watch you do what you do on your show, but it’s really something to be part of it.”

  “There’s usually not as much gunplay.” At least, not that ended up in the shows. Annja kept as much of that out of those stories as she could.

  Klykov grinned. “That is nothing. I have seen years of that in this country and in Russia. The chase to learn the secret of the elephant is so different.”

  “It is.”

  “You lead a remarkable life, Annja.”

  “I can go get you breakfast,” Annja offered.

  “No, thank you. I had breakfast before I left the house this morning. I would have invited you to meet somewhere, but I guessed that you were a lot like my wife and probably liked to have time to yourself when you had to get everything together. Meeting you here seemed less invasive.”

  “Thank you. I didn’t know that you’re married.”

  “Was married. For forty-two great years.” A shadow dimmed the lights in Klykov’s eyes. “I lost her to cancer three years ago.”

  “I’m sorry.”

  “Life is what it is, Annja. We had forty-two years and we loved each other very much. I still love her.” Klykov shook his head. “I don’t talk to many people about her.”

  “Then I feel privileged.”

  Klykov chuckled. “You would have liked her. She would have liked you. Your spunk. Your zest. Those are qualities Katia respected in people.”

  “She sounds like a great lady.”

  “She was.” Klykov looked at the rest of the food court bustling with travelers around them, but she knew he wasn’t seeing them. He was somewhere else.

  “Can I get you some coffee then?”

  “No.” Klykov shook his head. “I’m fine. Thank you. I did find out who Onoprienko hopes to sell the elephant to in Odessa. More information came in last night. There is a…woman Onoprienko likes to talk to. When he has the money. He mentioned his scheme to her the night before he killed Maurice Benyovszky.”

  “Who?”

  “A fence named Viktor Fedotov. An honorable man as far as thieves go. I talked with him this morning. He has agreed to stall Onoprienko in the event he arrives in Odessa before we do.”

  The PA announced the initial boarding call to their Aeroflot flight to Odessa. There was one layover in Moscow. They were going to be in the air and in Moscow for almost fifteen hours before they reached Odessa. Thankfully Klykov had reserved two first-class seats.

  * * *

  ON THE OTHER side of the terminal, Rao watched Annja Creed talking to the old Russian. Having had precious little sleep the night before because he’d been camped outside the woman’s apartment, Rao looked forward to the long flight. He still didn’t know why the archaeologist was leaving New York City. As far as Rao could tell, she had not found the elephant.

  Rao felt troubled as he sat there. He had followed her from her apartment that morning, and had nearly panicked when he realized her destination was LaGuardia.

  He had purchased a ticket that had gotten him inside the terminal, spied on her while she worked on her computer, and saw her e-ticket printout just long enough to confirm she was going to Odessa in Ukraine.

  That had puzzled him. He had wondered then if Annja Creed had given up pursuing the elephant. That didn’t seem like something she would do. In the end, he knew he simply had nowhere else to go. Onoprienko had not turned up and the police in New York City were searching for the man. Rao knew he could not find Onoprienko before the police did.

  If the police got their hands on the elephant, there was a possibility that the temple could file diplomatic claims and get the elephant returned. That would take time, and there was a risk that information might come to light that would slow down that return.

  It would be better if Rao was able to get the elephant himself.

  The trip to Odessa could be something Annja Creed had already scheduled. Rao was cognizant of that. If that were the case, all he could do was turn around and begin the search for the elephant anew.

  When the old Russian showed up and took a seat with Annja Creed, Rao felt more certain he was on the right track. He sat, hidden in plain sight, clad in American street clothes and expensive sunglasses.

  When the boarding call came, Rao picked up his carry-on and headed to check in.

  * * *

  SHE IS HEADED TO ODESSA, UKRAINE. DOES THIS MEAN ANYTHING TO YOU?

  Sequeira sat on the edge of his pool and watched Joana swimming laps. He enjoyed the smooth play of her muscles as she moved through the water.

  Then he returned his attention to the cell phone text from Brisa. The assassin had included a picture of Annja Creed walking through the airpo
rt terminal. The woman was very beautiful.

  WHY IS SHE GOING TO ODESSA? Even as he asked that question, Sequeira thought of the history of the elephant piece and how it had passed through Russia. Ukraine was not so far from Russia.

  I HAVE NOT BEEN ABLE TO FIND OUT. IF I WAS ALLOWED TO ENGAGE HER, I WOULD HAVE AN ANSWER.

  And Annja Creed would also be dead. Despite the tension that filled him, and the fear that he was going to lose the elephant, Sequeira smiled at that. Brisa was not always calm and cool. The assassin preferred to know a target, identify it, and eliminate it.

  ANNJA CREED IS OUR ONLY LEAD TO THE ELEPHANT AT THIS POINT. I WANT HER ALIVE FOR NOW.

  ALIVE IS HARDER.

  YOU’RE GETTING A BONUS FOR BRINGING THIS IN.

  I CAN’T SPEND A BONUS IF I’M DEAD OR IN JAIL.

  GETTING NERVOUS?

  NO, BUT AN OPERATION HAS TO RUN CLEANLY IF IT IS TO BE SUCCESSFUL. THERE ARE TOO MANY MOVING PARTS IN THIS ONE.

  WAIT A LITTLE LONGER.

  IS THE MONK NECESSARY? I COULD KILL HIM.

  LEAVE HIM IN PLACE FOR THE MOMENT, AS WELL. IN CASE ANNJA CREED DOESN’T WORK OUT. Sequeira sat there in the early afternoon sunlight feeling content and excited. Authorities had noticed Melicio was missing, but the tide had not brought the body back into the coast yet. Perhaps it wouldn’t show up at all. He returned his attention to the phone, to the picture of Annja Creed. I AM COMING TO ODESSA.

  IT WOULD BE BETTER IF YOU STAYED OUT OF THIS.

  I WILL NOT INTERFERE WITH YOUR WORK. I JUST WANT TO BE THERE WHEN YOU GET THE ELEPHANT.

  THE POLICE HAVE ALREADY TIED YOU TO CALAPEZ.

  “POSSIBLY” TIED ME. That information had come from the attorney Sequeira had hired in New York. NOW THAT CALAPEZ IS DEAD, THERE ARE NO MORE TIES TO ME. I’M COMING TO ODESSA. IF YOU HAVE THE ELEPHANT BEFORE I ARRIVE, ALL THE BETTER.

  There was no response. Sequeira didn’t expect one. He usually agreed with whatever Brisa said. But in this instance he couldn’t.

  “Fernando, you are not paying attention.” Joana pulled at her bikini bottom as she walked up the steps out of the pool. She showed him a mock pout. “You need to stop doing business and swim. Get your cardio in. Spend time with me.”

  Sequeira smiled up at her. “I’m afraid I’m going to have to go.”

  “Why?”

  “Business.”

  “Where will you go?”

  “To Odessa.”

  Joana stood before him, radiant and beautiful, and he knew from the tight corners of her eyes that she was thinking he was planning on a rendezvous with another woman.

  Sequeira stood and kissed her hard enough to bruise her lips. “Do not worry. I will think of you every minute I am gone.”

  “How long will you be away?”

  “I don’t know yet.”

  “Then take me with you.”

  “I can’t.”

  Quietly, with a small frown, Joana accepted that. She had known when she’d taken up with him that his loyalties were divided. Some days he could be wholly hers, and other days he would be all business, and some of that business dealt with things she would never know about. Sequeira had made certain she understood how things must be when he had taken her into his household.

  “What am I to do while you are gone?” she asked.

  “Do what you always do. Shop.”

  She hugged him. “When do you have to go?”

  “Soon.”

  “Then enjoy the pool with me for a little while.” She put her arms around his neck and kissed him, pulling him toward the water.

  Sequeira destroyed the cell phone and scattered the pieces behind him as he let her guide him into the water. He owned a private jet. He could leave as soon as he wished.

  Chapter 21

  “Annja?”

  “Yes.” Answering the vibrating phone had brought Annja out of a dead sleep. The phone had been lying across her chest, hooked into a charging station in the wall next to her seat. First class was awesome that way. She blinked her eyes and glanced at the compartment around her.

  Most of the other passengers were engaged in quiet conversations, read, watched the onboard movie or slept. Beside her, Klykov snored slightly. His fedora rested on his chest and rose and fell with his breaths.

  “Where are you?” This time Annja recognized Doug Morrell’s voice.

  “I’m on a plane.”

  “Going where?”

  “To Odessa.”

  “Brighton? Why would you go there?”

  “Not Brighton. Odessa in Ukraine. On the Black Sea.”

  “You know we need to get an idea for the next episode. We’ve only got so much of a window for these things.”

  “I’m doing background research for a possible show.”

  “In Odessa?”

  “Yes.”

  “What is it?” Doug sounded suspicious. He knew she stayed torn between doing the television show and following up on whatever artifact had seized her attention.

  “Have you heard of a upiors?”

  “Not really.”

  Annja coughed to clear her throat. “It’s a Slavic vampire. In fact, many etymologists believe that the English word vampire was derived from the original upior legend.”

  “You’re going to do a piece on vampires?” Doug’s voice held absolute delight. He loved the whole idea of vampires. Only instead of blood-sucking fiends, he preferred the sexy near-god version of them that was currently popular.

  Annja preferred her vampires, if she had to have them. “Polish ones. They have barbed tongues. They’re supposed to bathe in blood.”

  “Like Countess Bathory? Amazing!”

  “When you stake them, they’re supposed to explode.”

  “Even more amazing. Annja, this is a great idea!”

  Annja knew that Doug would think so, and she felt bad that she wasn’t going to be able to deliver an actual upior for the show, but she thought she could do some background for a piece on the vampire while she was in Odessa.

  “Good. I’m glad you like it.”

  “Can you send me anything? Some local stuff? Legends?”

  “As soon as I get to Odessa in a few more hours.”

  “Amazing. Let me tell the powers-that-be and we’ll get cranking on things at this end.”

  “I’ll leave you to that.” Annja ended the call and closed her eyes again.

  “A upior?” Klykov asked from beside her.

  “I didn’t mean to wake you.”

  “Is okay. I can go back to sleep, but maybe I will have nightmares now.”

  “Sorry.”

  Klykov smiled without opening his eyes. “I have seen many things worse than upiors, Annja. I have never seen a upior.”

  “Neither have I, but there should be enough of a history of them in Odessa and nearby environs for me to put a show together.”

  “You should use caution when you are in Odessa, though. There are many people who believe upiors exist. I am just not one of them.”

  Unable to go back to sleep immediately, Annja reached into her backpack and took out her tablet and her mini–satellite receiver. She hooked the devices together and booted up the tablet. Her first stop was her usual archaeology website.

  Rachel, who was hiddenheroine@fieldofpoppies.ssl, had written back about the picture of the elephant she had sent.

  HEY ANNJA!

  SO COOL TO BE PART OF THIS. I GOT HOLD OF TANECHKA AND WE HAD A LONG TALK. I’VE MISSED CHATTING TO HER, SO THIS WAS A GOOD EXCUSE TO RECONNECT. LIFE SOOOO GETS IN THE WAY OF LIVING SOMETIMES!

  ANYWAY, TANECHKA TOLD ME HER GRANDFATHER’S NAME WAS ASAF CHISLOVA. HE WAS HER MOTHER’S FATHER, WHICH IS WHY I COULDN’T REMEMBER THE NAME.

  TANECHKA SAID THE STORY ABOUT THE ELEPHANT WAS THAT HER GRANDFATHER’S GRANDFATHER, OR SOMEWHERE BACK DOWN THE LINE, GOT THE ELEPHANT BECAUSE HE WAS A COMMANDER IN THE CRIMEAN WAR. I HAD TO LOOK UP CRIMEAN WAR. I DIDN’T KNOW WHAT IT WAS. AND THEN I LEARNED THAT WAS WHERE FLORENCE NIGHTINGALE WAS! I’D
ALWAYS THOUGHT SHE WAS A BRIT! AND SHE WAS! BUT SHE GOT FAMOUS WHILE NURSING IN RUSSIA! WHO KNEW?

  WELL, YOU PROBABLY DID. :)

  HISTORY! YOU GOTTA LOVE IT!

  ANYWAY, ABOUT TANECHKA’S GRANDFATHER, THE SAD THING WAS THAT NOBODY KNEW ABOUT HIS STORAGE LOCKER UNTIL IT HAD ALREADY BEEN SOLD OFF AND EMPTIED. HER GRANDFATHER WAS IN A NURSING HOME AFTER A MAJOR STROKE. SHE WENT TO SEE HIM, BUT HE COULDN’T TALK AND NO ONE KNEW WHERE HIS STUFF WAS. I FEEL BAD FOR HER. :(

  ANYWAY, I HOPE THIS HELPS.

  BYE!

  Annja opened an email and sent a response.

  RACHEL,

  THANKS FOR ALL THE EFFORT. THE INFORMATION DOES HELP. I FEEL BAD FOR YOUR FRIEND, TOO. I’LL SEE IF SOMETHING CAN BE SALVAGED FROM THAT STORAGE UNIT.

  Picking up her phone, Annja put a call through to Bart. She knew he would be awake and working by now.

  “McGilley.”

  “Bart, it’s Annja. I’ve got a favor to ask.”

  “Okay, ask in a minute. I got some news I’m not happy about. Since Fernando Sequeira’s name came up in this murder investigation, I’ve had a couple Interpol contacts keep tabs on him. I just got off the phone with them. Sequeira’s private pilot filed flight plans for Odessa, Ukraine. The jet took off only minutes ago. What is going on over there?”

  “I don’t know.” Annja considered the situation. “Leonid and I have negotiated with the fence Onoprienko is going to use to sell the elephant. Leonid got the name from a mutual acquaintance. The fence is going to hold Onoprienko up till we get there.”

  “You do realize you’re getting deeper and deeper into the criminal element, right?” Bart sounded more worried than angry. Annja counted that as a win.

  “When you’re dealing with artifacts and national treasures, you sometimes deal with criminals. Every archaeologist I know has come across tomb raiders and grave robbers. This isn’t the first time I’ve had to work with people like this.”