A Tsar's Gold (Parker Chase Book 6)

by Andrew Clawson

  They carried on down the street. The Russian couldn’t have gone far, not in the few seconds between now and when the bus had first stopped. Unless he had gone into the restaurant, which made no sense. Why risk losing them? Parker and Jane stepped up out of the roadway and stood looking in the long windows of a bar; they worked like a mirror, offering a view of the opposite sidewalk. None of the pedestrians looked remotely like the Russian.

  Jane looked at her watch. “We only have five minutes left to meet Nick.”

  “We might have lost the Russian.”

  “Then that’s his problem,” Jane said. “We have a trail to follow.”

  A sense of unease rolled up Parker’s stomach like rising fog. Jane had a point. Maybe the best choice was to stay ahead of this guy and race to the finish line, wherever that may be. Letting him catch up with them again would cost time and give him a chance to find backup, or do who knew what else. All of this made sense on the surface, but none of it felt right. Parker had learned the hard way to plan for the worst while hoping it never happened. To make a good plan, they needed to know more about who was after them and what they wanted. The only thing he knew for certain was the Russians seemed willing to kill to get whatever it was.

  Flashing lights grabbed Parker’s eye. Police vehicles blocked the road ahead, where an overpass crossed above the train tracks. Broken glass glinted on the street, a spider’s web of destruction surrounding three cars that had collided at an intersection. Three drivers stood beside their smashed vehicles, one gesturing wildly at an officer while another yelled back. The third held a bloody towel to her head. Sirens wailed in the distance.

  “We have to go around,” Jane said. “They aren’t letting anyone cross here, and that’s the only way to get to the park where we meet Nick.” She pointed at the map. The railroad tracks running alongside the park stretched in either direction, effectively sealing off access other than the arched overpass roadways.

  “Which way is the closest?” Parker asked. To the left it looked to be at least three blocks. The next overpass to their right was half that distance away. “Down there.” He pointed, grabbed Jane’s hand and tried to move to the right.

  Jane held her ground. “That’s where the Russian might be. He was on that side of the street.”

  “Nick wants to catch the guy off guard, remember? If we go the other way and he can’t follow us, none of this works.”

  She squeezed his arm harder. “Aren’t you worried he could ambush us? These Russians might not want to let us go. What if he’s really leading us to a trap?”

  “We don’t have a choice.” He touched her shoulder. “If Nick says he’ll be there, he will. We need to hold up our end of the bargain and get into the park. And you know why else I’m not worried?” Parker pointed at her chest. “You’re here to protect me.”

  She smacked his arm. “Stop it. I’m serious.”

  “So am I.”

  While police lights flashed and people swirled all around them, Jane studied his face, searching it. For what, he didn’t know, but she found it. “Okay. And yes, I’ll watch your back.”

  “Then this Russian is toast.” He turned, pulling her toward the road. “We’re behind schedule.”

  They crossed to the other side, jogging between idling vehicles before continuing parallel to the park, headed for the next overpass. Without any idea who to look for beyond the single Russian, they went faster, pushing through and around other pedestrians. Moving fast would force the Russian to match their pace and stand out from the crowd. At least that’s what Parker hoped. In truth, he had no idea what he was doing. He kept searching as they moved. No one stood out.

  At the intersection cars moved both ways in front of them as they faced the park, waiting for the light to change so they could cross the six lanes of traffic. People began to crowd up behind them. Parker’s skin crawled. He glanced around but found nothing in the throngs of strangers queuing up. Packed this close, the guy could be right behind them and he’d never know it.

  The light ahead was still red, but a break in traffic loomed. Parker pulled Jane closer to him. “There’s room if we run.”

  “Across all those lanes?” Jane shook her head. “That’s crazy.”

  “Can you think of a better way to flush him out?”

  She opened her mouth to protest, then changed her mind. “No,” she said. “That doesn’t mean I want to—”

  “Hang on.” He grabbed her arm as the last car passed, then darted into traffic, dragging her with him. Jane stumbled, feet trying to catch up with the rest of her. Six lanes stood open for a few seconds. They made it halfway before the first car roared past behind them, a wind hot with exhaust whipping across their backs.

  Jane finally caught her balance and surged ahead, shouting “Watch out!”

  Parker’s knees buckled. He hadn’t noticed the dedicated lane for buses to move against traffic, adjacent to the sidewalk. Cars roared toward them from the right. A massive bus hurtled at them from the left, horn blaring. Close enough for Parker to see the driver’s eyes go wide. Clouds of smoke erupted as he stood on the brakes. A passenger standing inside flew forward, arms flailing before he disappeared from view. A teenaged girl at the bus stop screamed.

  The bus missed them by inches. The oversized mirror clipped Parker’s shirt as his foot hit the sidewalk. Jane made it a half-second before him and stumbled through the gawking crowd. Parker accelerated through the narrow gap in her wake, passing Jane as they turned for the nearest walkway winding into the park, only slowing once he gained the protective shade of towering trees heavy with leaves. Great gulps of crisp air filled his lungs. Jane stopped beside him, hands on her hips, her face dark with fury.

  Parker turned. “I didn’t see—”

  Jane’s fist thumped into his gut, sending all that wonderful air back out. Parker doubled over.

  “If you ever pull a stunt like that again, I will hurt you.” Her finger wagged in his face, though it was hard to see through the tears clouding his vision. “Do you understand? I did not come this far to be run down by a bus.”

  He didn’t have the breath to argue, and even if he had, a tiny voice in Parker’s head told him to stay quiet. Jane wasn’t messing around.

  “Do you hear me?”

  The finger in his face was clearer now. Parker blinked away the tears. He took a step back before straightening up. Best to stay out of range. “Yes,” he managed. “Sorry.”

  She snorted. “I cannot believe you did that.” Jane peered back the way they’d come. “I don’t see anyone coming. If the Russian was behind us, he is either lost or very, very good.”

  “What time is it?” Parker flinched when she twisted her wrist to check. The girl can punch.

  “Two minutes to go. We have to get to that fountain.” She pointed through a swarm of pedestrians. The park was crowded. If the Russian wanted to ambush them, it wouldn’t go unnoticed. “See anything?”

  Parker did not. Which he increasingly suspected meant he had no idea what to look for. “You watch one side; I’ll watch the other. Let’s jog over there.”

  She took off without warning, forcing him to run. Not the easiest thing after getting socked in the gut.

  The sunlight dimmed as they went deeper into the park, trees stretching five stories high blocking most of it from hitting the ground. What had once been open grass on either side of the pathway grew heavy with bushes; some had been trimmed back to leave room for the benches. The deeper they went, the fewer people they passed. Parker kept to the middle of the path as they moved at a fast clip toward the rendezvous point.

  Jane had the map open in her hands. “One more turn.” She stopped at a sidewalk intersection. “This way.” They rounded a bend where the bushes pushed up nearly against the path and the park opened wide again. Ahead of them, a stone fountain easily thirty yards in diameter shot water into the air, turning the sunlight into a dazzling, thundering kaleidoscope. Several children threw coins from the edges, their p
arents hovering nearby. Two mothers sat on benches with strollers at their side.

  Parker still didn’t recognize anyone. “Sure this is the spot?”

  “Yes,” Jane said. “I’m positive.”

  “Where’s Nick?”

  “We’re on time.” Jane displayed her watch. “Let’s do a lap. Could be he’s waiting where we can’t see.”

  Like wheel’s hub, the fountain had different paths feeding into it, the entire perimeter a circle of dense shrubbery. Parker stayed on the outside of Jane as they circled, slowing near each connected path. It was the work of two minutes to circle the fountain entirely. Finally, they stopped on the path where they’d originally entered.

  “He’s not here,” Jane said.

  “Nick wouldn’t bail on us.”

  “What if he’s injured, or in trouble?”

  “You think anyone can get the drop on Nick?”

  “The man we saw had a gun,” Jane said. “Any friends of his would be armed too. Nick’s size only offers them a bigger target.”

  “I’m sure there’s a good reason he’s late.” Parker nodded to a break in the foliage behind them. “Let’s hang back there out of sight until he gets here.”

  A child raced past as they edged over, his mother close behind. The thick bushes would keep their backs safe, nearly as good as a solid wall and impossible to see through.

  “Stay against the bushes,” Parker said. “I’ll watch behind us. You keep an eye around the fountain.” Jane turned to stand watch, her gaze flitting around the open area. The bushes brushed his shoulders, and Parker leaned back to peek down the path.

  A pistol barrel appeared between the leaves, aimed at his nose.

  “Do not move.” The Russian’s gun had a suppressor attached. If he fired, no one would hear a sound. Jane included. “Do you understand?”

  Parker said he did. “Tell Dr. White to join us.” The Russian’s voice was level, calm. His words sounded cultured, without the harshness Parker recalled from the others’ voices. A ballcap covered his hair, and since they had last seen him at the train station, the Russian had ditched his dark coat for a blue shirt. But up close it was clearly the same man.

  “Jane.” She turned but couldn’t see him, half-hidden by the bushes. “Jane, come here.”

  “I don’t see anything.” Her disembodied voice floated back to him.

  The Russian prodded Parker with his barrel.

  “I need you to see this, Jane.”

  “Why are you—”

  She came into view as the Russian grabbed Parker in a choke hold, using him as a shield.

  “I will shoot him if you scream, Dr. White,” the Russian said in his cultured English. “Do you understand?”

  The use of her name knocked Jane off-kilter. A scowl cut her face. “Why are you following us?”

  The Russian kept his eyes on a constant swivel from Parker to Jane. “You have information.”

  Parker tried to pull away. The Russian’s forearm clenched, cutting off his air supply. “Do not do that.”

  Parker knew when to fight and when to wait. He stopped pulling and the pressure eased. “Where are your friends?” he asked.

  The man flinched. He’s alone.

  “Lead us to that bench.” The Russian inclined his head toward a vacant bench just across the path, bathed in shadow and several meters off the main thoroughfare. Far enough that neither Parker nor Jane could get away without offering the Russian a clear shot. “You may not believe me, but I do not wish to harm you.”

  “I don’t.” Jane glared at him before turning to walk towards the bench.

  “Wait,” the Russian called, and she turned back to him, her gaze falling to his outstretched hand. “Put these around Mr. Chase’s wrists. And hurry.”

  Jane took the plastic strips. Parker held out his hands, wrists together, then gave her a brief nod. Do it. Not that he wanted his hands tied with a gun at his back, but right now they had no choice.

  “Now, both of you, go to the bench,” the Russian said after the zip ties were cinched. “Sit facing each other.”

  Parker and Jane stepped out of the bushes and made their way over to the bench. Parker sat facing Jane, as instructed, with his back to the Russian, who leaned against a wide tree beside the stone bench.

  “Back up, Mr. Chase. To the very edge.”

  Parker scooted back until he felt the gun barrel between his shoulder blades. “I hope you didn’t come all this way to shoot me now.”

  He glanced back to see the Russian looking around. “Face forward. I have no wish to shoot anyone,” the Russian said. “I need information.”

  “Then why did your buddies in Luxembourg try to kill us?” Jane asked. The fire burned even brighter in her eyes. Parker shook his head at her, almost imperceptibly. Easy.

  “They did not intend to shoot anyone,” the man said. “Unfortunately, you were uncooperative. They did what they saw to be best.” Jane opened her mouth, then closed it as the Russian scowled at her. “It is my turn to ask questions. First, where are the materials you recovered from Falcon and Landolt in Luxembourg?”

  “You’re two steps behind,” Jane said. “Ask your men from the chapel.”

  The gun twitched at Parker’s back. “My men never went to a chapel.” The first hint of emotion crept into his words. Parker didn’t like it. “Do not lie to me. You two traveled here together. Your friend is nowhere to be found. Tell me exactly what happened or I will be forced to make this hard on you.”

  Parker’s heart sank. Even if Nick showed up, he wouldn’t be able to help. Nobody was fast enough to get the Russian’s gun away before he fired, and Parker sure as hell hoped nobody tried. “Who attacked us in Frankfurt?” he said, without turning his head. “Your men spoke German like natives. They wanted to kill us.”

  Silence met his words. Parker risked a glance behind him. The Russian looked down. “If you are lying, I will shoot you. It is not a threat, Mr. Chase. Tell me where this happened.”

  Parker swallowed. “In a chapel in Frankfurt. We went there after your men in Luxembourg tried to kill us. Two of your other thugs ambushed us.”

  “They said they were going to kill us,” Jane said. “I speak German.”

  The Russian did the oddest thing. He smiled. “I know, Dr. White. Which is why I would never work with careless men. Whoever it is you mention in Frankfurt, they are not my associates.” He leaned over, his straight teeth flashing in a ray of sunlight. “Tell me about them. What did they look like? How did they speak?”

  Thirty feet away, a young woman screamed, shrill cries filling the air. Parker whipped around as the girl shrieked in pure terror. She stood alone in the middle of the path, hands on her cheeks. The pressure between his shoulder blades vanished, and he felt rather than heard something ricochet off the bench. He turned around again, and the girl’s cries stopped as abruptly as they had started.

  Nick Dean bent over the prone body of their Russian captor and stood up again holding the suppressed pistol. “You two okay?”

  Jane leapt to her feet before Parker could respond. “What took you so long?”

  Nick looked over her shoulder, then made a circle with his thumb and forefinger. Okay.

  Parker turned around to see the teenage girl wave at Nick before twisting on a heel and heading back into the park. She wore jogging clothes, had earbuds in, and looked to be completely unharmed. He turned back to Nick with an accusation on his lips.

  Nick waved off the question. “I paid her to distract everyone. Including your friend here.” He kicked the slumped Russian. The guy moaned. “Seems like you two are fine.”

  Parker held up his bound wrists. “This could have been a problem. Have a knife?”

  “Where did those come from?” Parker pointed to one of the Russian’s pockets. Nick rifled them and found more zip ties inside. “Stick your hands out.” Keys jangled when Nick pulled them from his pocket. One turned out to be a wickedly sharp folding knife. He cut the ties off Parker�
��s wrists, then said, “Watch our backs. I’ll take care of this guy.”

  Nick hauled the man onto the bench before lashing one wrist to the backrest and the other to an armrest. The Russian moaned, his head lolling to one side. “Wake up.” He snapped his fingers inches from the man’s ears. “Time to start talking.”

  The Russian’s head came up. Leaning back as his eyes moved up to Nick’s face, the Russian realized his arms were bound. He pulled once with each, testing the hold. Then he took a deep breath.

  “Why are you following us?” Nick flashed the Russian’s gun. “Can’t be friendly if you have this.”

  “You are in danger,” the Russian said. “You have letters written by Claus Elser.” The Russian coughed. “The coded messages were meant for his sister. Had she succeeded in deciphering them, the items you recovered would have been gone, the trail cold.” The first hint of emotion crept into his voice. “The trinkets you have so far are only small portions of a treasure that is more than enough to change the future.”

  “You call a Raphael and a Caravaggio trinkets?” Jane asked. “Those paintings are priceless to the rightful owners’ families. On the open market they’re worth tens of millions.”

  “I do not mean to offend,” the Russian said. “But it is the truth.”

  Jane blew air through her nose. “You’re nothing more than a treasure hunter who would kill us.”

  “Not so different from yourselves,” the Russian said. “Though none of my men wanted to kill you.”

  “We didn’t ask for this,” Parker said. “Do you have any idea why we’re even here?”

  “The paperwork in Claus Elser’s home indicated he banked with a man named Chase. I assume this was your father.” Parker’s silence was all the answer he needed.

  Nick spoke up. “Tell us why we shouldn’t call the police and tell them about a foreign visitor carrying an unregistered firearm. Good luck getting out of that.”

  A couple walked behind the bench, arm in arm. The Russian didn’t respond until they passed, then sighed. “It seems I have no choice.” He tried to move his bound wrists. “I am at a severe disadvantage. Would you cut the restraints?”