Deadlock

by Iris Johansen

  You want another experience like the one with Joel Levy, Emily? Let's see if I can oblige you.

  But now he had to throw a bone to Babin and do as the arrogant bastard commanded. He had to find someone else to do the job of go¬ing after Emily in Connecticut that he wanted to do himself. Who was efficient that he could control?

  Sal Caprini. Sal was smart and lethal and would know that Staunton would come after him if he didn't do exactly as instructed. But there was the problem of finding Garrett and Emily. He frowned as he concentrated on the problem. Emily and Garrett had found Zelov and were digging deep. What would Garrett's next move be? In his position, what would he do?

  Then it came to him.

  He started to dial Sal Caprini in New Jersey.

  DARDON KNOCKED ON THE DOOR at six forty-five the next morn¬ing, and when Garrett answered, Dardon said, "Got him. He was down in Miami doing a job for IBM."

  "Hello, Pauley," Garrett said to the man standing beside Dardon. "Thanks for coming."

  "Dardon said it was going to be profitable," Pauley said. "I've de¬cided I have to retire like you. Keeping up with all this new technol¬ogy is making an old man of me."

  "Emily, this is Mark Pauley. Emily Hudson." Dardon gestured to the man who entered the room with him. "He's going to break into a phone-company database that everyone says is unbreakable and get us the information we need. Or so he says." He headed for the room ser¬vice table where Emily was sitting. "Breakfast. I'm starved. At the rate you're charging us, we can only afford to give you a cup of coffee, Pauley."

  "I'll survive." He came forward and shook Emily's hand. "I'm very glad to meet you. I understand that if I reveal I've seen you, I'll die a slow and horrible death. Titillating, isn't it?"

  He had a faint British accent, but there was nothing of British re¬serve in his smile. It was warm, intimate, and chock-full of charm. He was brown-haired, blue-eyed, in his late twenties, and stunningly good-looking. Emily couldn't remember even seeing a movie star that attrac¬tive. "If you can call death titillating. How do you do, Mr. Pauley."

  "Oh, not actually experiencing the dire fate. I violently oppose death. But it's always interesting to skirt on the edge." He turned to Garrett. "How much time do I have?"

  "Time to have a cup of coffee," Garrett said. "I'll even order you breakfast. I'm not as miserly as Dardon."

  "I understand and forgive him. He's an amateur, and he resents a professional's expertise." He gave Dardon a sly glance. "I'll even let him come and watch a master at work. He may learn something."

  "Bastard," Dardon muttered as he took a sip of coffee. "You're not so perfect. I will watch you, and I'll learn your bag of tricks."

  "By all means." Pauley's smile faded. "Seriously, give me a time frame, Garrett."

  "I want to be on a plane and heading out of the country by noon."

  "Then you may have to take me with you. These days it's not easy hacking into a phone company and tracing past calls. There are all kinds of trip wires and firewalls. Even the NSA has trouble, and they're the snoopiest bastards on the planet."

  "Do your best. Otherwise, you may have to take a short Russian vacation."

  "It will have to be short. I don't like Russia." He shrugged. "Well, I don't mind it, but they don't like me. You'd think a country as into electronic snooping as the Kremlin would be a little more tolerant. I think they're jealous." He winked at Emily. "Like my friend, Dar¬don." He turned to leave. "I'll skip breakfast and go back to Dardon's room and see if I can make some headway. Maybe I'll even strike it lucky and meet your deadline."

  Emily watched him leave. "Is he as good as he says he is?"

  "Better." Dardon made a face. "He's a damn wonder. He doesn't look at things the way we do. He has a cyber connection."

  "He looks like a movie star."

  "And makes the most of it," Garrett said dryly. "He makes the most of all his talents." "I think I like him."

  "You see? He's in the room five minutes, and you're on his cheer¬ing team." There was a faint edge to his voice. "Don't get too in¬volved. I'll send him packing as soon as I get what I need from him." He sat down and started his breakfast. "Eat. We've got to get moving. I want to get to the courthouse as soon as they open." He turned to Dardon. "And you don't have time to stay with Pauley and play with the computers. You need to set up the flight, pick up documents, and arrange for a place for us to stay in Russia."

  "Pauley, too? You were serious?"

  "Pauley, too. Even after he gets us the address we need, we may be able to use him over there." He grimaced. "And it will give Emily something pretty to look at on the trip to Moscow."

  That edge was in his voice again, and it was beginning to annoy her. "That would be nice," she said coolly. "I may learn something from him. I'm sure he's a good teacher."

  Dardon chuckled. "He'll tell you he is."

  "It depends on what he's teaching." Garrett met her gaze. "You could do better."

  "Could I?" She finished her coffee. "But you never know unless you give someone a chance."

  "My, my." Dardon's expression was suddenly wary as he looked from Emily to Garrett. "I believe it's time I made my exit. I have a lot of things to do."

  "No, stay." Emily pushed back her chair. "I'm through. I'll go to my room and finish packing." She glanced at Garrett. "Ten minutes."

  "Ten minutes." He was frowning as he got up, crossed the room, and stood gazing after her until she reached her door a few yards away. "I'll come and get you."

  Lord, he was being careful, she thought. But she wasn't complain¬ing. Even though this morning the sun was shining brightly, and Staunton seemed far away, she still was feeling that sense of threat just around the next corner.

  "00 I DETECT A LITTLE TENSION between you?" Dardon asked, as Garrett closed the door and came back into the room. "Should I have gotten someone other than Pauley? I could have pulled Les Mobler in. He's not as good as Pauley, but he's real ugly."

  "Very funny," Garrett said. "She's too smart to be taken in by sheer good looks." But he had been surprised that Emily had seemed to be drawn to Pauley. Surprised and irritated. It probably shouldn't have bothered him. Emily was a woman, and every day she was emerging more from that stunned, numb condition that had enveloped her since he had taken her away from Staunton. Women were attracted to Pauley, and he should probably be grateful that she was behaving nor¬mally.

  He wasn't grateful. He had felt a flash of possessiveness and jealousy that had come out of nowhere and was primitive as hell.

  And on some level Emily had recognized it and reacted with defi¬ance. The mood between them in those last few minutes had been explosive.

  "I've never seen you like this." Dardon was staring at him specula¬tively. "She's not your property, Garrett."

  "I know that." But he felt as if she belonged to him. Every minute they were growing closer, he was learning more about her, the bond was growing. "I wouldn't want to own any woman."

  Not consciously but that primitive instinct was there.

  Get over it. It was probably purely sexual, and as soon as they came together, it would fade.

  And they would come together. To hell with patience.

  And to hell with that pretty boy Mark Pauley.

  TWELVE

  "DID YOU GET THEM? IT T 0 0 K you long enough." Emily asked as she saw Garrett come across the marble lobby of the courthouse. "No problem?"

  "No problem." He gestured to the file in his hand as he opened the door leading to the parking lot. "I copied everything I could get my hands on. They had to have everything Mikhail Zelov wrote translated into English for the court case. And there were all kinds of documents verifying the authenticity and accuracy of the translations."

  "I still don't understand why the family didn't lock the records down as confidential."

  "I do. As long as the records didn't give out any information that they didn't want leaked, it was better for their image. It was a defensive move. They could prove to the world
that Mikhail was nuts and that they weren't greedy bloodsuckers." He opened the passenger door of the car for her. "Which means we probably aren't going to find any¬thing vitally important in the transcripts."

  "It's a start. We'll get to know Mikhail Zelov and the way he thinks. It could become important later." She asked, "How long will it take us to get to the airport?"

  "About fifteen minutes. It's not far from here." Garrett's phone rang as they pulled out of the parking lot. "Dardon." He listened, then said, "Okay, whatever it takes." He hung up. "Pauley hasn't completed the job. He's coming with us. He's at the airport with Dardon."

  "He didn't think he would finish." She glanced at him. "And you said that he could be valuable, didn't you?"

  "That's what I said." He looked straight ahead, negotiating the traffic. "It's amazing that, considering all the laws in the U.S., traffic still remains a major problem."

  She didn't let him skate away from the issue. "Well, is Pauley valu¬able or not?"

  "He's valuable," he said flatly.

  "Then why don't you want him to go?"

  He looked directly at her. "I'm jealous. I don't like to be jealous. It's childish and primitive. I'd rather avoid feeling either."

  "Oh." She hadn't expected that degree of frankness. "Like Dar¬don? Because Pauley's so bright?"

  "No," he said crisply. "Because I want to jump into bed with you, and I don't like the idea of his doing it. Or you even contemplating sex with our Adonis of the Internet."

  She could feel the heat in her cheeks. "I wasn't contemplating any such-"

  "Good. Then we won't talk about it. You wanted to probe about Pauley. I was honest and let you know the problem. Now we'll forget it until one of us decides to deal with it."

  She was silent a moment. "Yes, we'll forget it." Then she burst out, "But you made me feel awkward as hell. How am I going to look at Pauley without remembering what you said?"

  "Exactly." He was entering the freeway. "I might have had that in mind, too."

  Clever. She felt that flash of irritation again. She smoldered for a moment, then shrugged. "I can handle it. Of course, it will make me much more aware of him." She saw his hands tighten on the steering wheel. Good. "And I've never slept with an Adonis of the Internet. You've made me wonder what it would-"

  "You little devil." He was smiling faintly and shaking his head. "I think we'd better go back to talking about the traffic."

  That would be safer, she thought. She had no idea why she had been tempted into goading him. She had never been a tease, and yet she had taken a sly enjoyment out of teasing Garrett. It might be be¬cause it held an element of danger. He was very sophisticated and had learned control in the trenches, but you were always aware that it was control and that darkness and violence lay waiting beneath.

  But what was amazing was that she could even feel or think of anything besides Staunton and the search for the hammer. No, Irana had said she was coming back to life. Sex and emotion and all the other facets of living were gradually coming back to her. She should reach out to them. It was a way of proving to herself that Staunton had not permanently damaged her.

  Reach out to Garrett? The cure might be worse than the sickness.

  "Traffic," she repeated. "I don't think this traffic is so bad. At least we Americans respect the law. It's only occasional assholes that think they own the road."

  "You still consider yourself an American? You've batted around so many countries, I wondered if you had lost your attachment."

  She shook her head. "I'm not a citizen of the world. I'm a down-to-earth, flag-waving American. I always will be. I had to go to other countries for my job, but this is home. When I stop roaming, I want to get a nice house on the beach down in North Carolina."

  "Why North Carolina?"

  "My father grew up near the coast there and he loved it. Some of the best times of my childhood were the weeks we spent together there. I want to be near the ocean and the woods so that I can dig out my camera and take pictures of wildlife like my father. I'll go to foot¬ball games and have cookouts and every Fourth of July I'll send up fireworks. I can understand Mikhail Zelov wanting to remind his family of their roots. It's important." She looked at him. "What about you? Irana said your father was an American."

  His lips lifted in a sardonic smile. "He never inspired me to any sense of patriotism. If anything, I wondered what kind of country could produce a man like him. I never visited the U.S. until I was in my twenties, and by that time it was too late to put down roots."

  "Where do you have roots?"

  He shrugged. "Nowhere. I guess the closest I've come is Mykala Island."

  "That's not good."

  He smiled. "It's life, Emily. We all can't have everything you re¬gard as important."

  But she wanted Garrett to have it. It hurt her somehow that he hadn't had the solid start that her father had given her. She hadn't real¬ized until after her father had died how important and valuable those years with him had been. "Then you should set out and make sure you put down roots yourself so that your children will have them."

  He blinked. "Now we're talking about my children? How did we get so far from lousy traffic?"

  "I don't know." She shook her head. "Sorry. I didn't mean to in¬trude on your privacy. Maybe you don't even want to have children."

  "I do. I just never thought about it." He smiled. "I didn't realize I had to prepare the way for them. This is our exit." He got off the free¬way. "I'll have to take my responsibilities in that direction under con¬sideration." He glanced in his rearview mirror. "We may have a tail."

  "What?" She glanced back over her shoulder. A tan Toyota was the only car behind them. "Why do you think that?"

  "He exited behind us. He's been behind us on the freeway."

  "Did you see him before that?"

  "You mean at the courthouse?" He shook his head. "But I might not have noticed. I was a little distracted by the conversation."

  As Emily had been. "If we're being followed, they must have been waiting at the courthouse. We wouldn't have picked them up on the freeway."

  "I'm not sure it's a tail. I'm just naturally suspicious. Let's see." He sped up, glancing at the mirror. "They're speeding up, too. I don't think it's 'monkey see, monkey do.' " He slowed, then sped up again. "I'd say it's confirmed."

  "They just want to see where we're going?"

  "No, this isn't like one of Ferguson's guys tagging us and report¬ing back to him. I don't think this is a simple tail. They're waiting for something."

  Her hands slowly clenched. "You can't lose them, can you?" The road they were traveling was a straight one, with only woods on both sides. "This isn't the city."

  "It would be damn hard."

  "Then what are they waiting for?"

  "I don't know. A little more privacy? If so, they're going to get it soon. The turnoff for the airport is just ahead. There's a half-mile stretch that's virtually deserted."

  "Maybe we should go straight ahead."

  "No, I need to get rid of them. But as soon as we make the turn, I'm going to pull over, and I want you to get out and go into the brush before they see you."

  "And leave you alone? Not likely."

  "Emily, do what I say."

  "Garrett, hell, no."

  He gave her an exasperated glance as he made the turn. "Dammit, this is no game."

  "Staunton may be in that car."

  "Oh shit." He sped up as the Toyota came around the corner. "Keep down."

  The Toyota had sped up too, and was getting closer. Emily craned her head to see if she could recognize the driver or the man in the pas¬senger seat. They weren't near enough yet.

  "Emily."

  "No." She was able to make out the two men now. The driver was dark-haired, swarthy. The man in the passenger seat was fair-haired and thin. "It's not Staunton."

  "Then will you please get down," Garrett said through clenched teeth. "They're right on top of us."

  "They're trying
to pull alongside," Emily said.

  "Great surprise." Garrett said.

  And the fair-haired man in the passenger seat was aiming a gun at Garrett!

  "Down, dammit!" Garrett swerved sideways and hit the Toyota. A bullet shattered the back window as the gunman was jarred by the impact.

  Before the man in the Toyota could recover, Garrett hit the car again, sending it spinning toward the edge of the road.

  Another bullet, this time burying itself in the metal holding the windshield.

  Garrett went after the car, giving it another swipe that sent it off the road and bouncing down an incline and into a ditch.

  "Get over into the driver's seat." Garrett was out of the car in an instant. "Get to the airport and bring Dardon and Pauley. It should only take you a few minutes. Don't argue. I'm going to need help."

  Then why isn't he coming with me, she thought desperately as she stomped on the accelerator. He had darted to the side of the road and disappeared into the brush. She wanted to go after him. If he needed help, she wanted to be the one to give it to him.

  But Dardon was better equipped to deal with a situation like this.

  Hurry, get Dardon and Pauley.

  And get back here before Garrett is killed.

  "STAY HERE, EMILY." 0 A R D 0 N jumped out of the car and started slipping and sliding down the slope toward the ditch. "Pauley!"

  Emily ignored him and was right behind them as they reached the car. The driver was crumpled against the wheel. There was no sign of Garrett or the fair-haired man who had been shooting at them.

  Pauley checked the driver. "Dead. Broken neck."

  The impact of the car or Garrett? Emily had a memory of Gar¬rett's arm around Shafir Ali's neck in that tent in the mountains.

  Dardon was already moving toward the brush, examining the way the leaves were lying and the broken branches. "This way, I think."

  "No." Pauley was moving toward the north. "I think I heard something…"

  "Dammit, Pauley."

  "I heard something."

  Emily had heard it too. Low, scarcely audible. A groan? A scream? She started at a run after Pauley.