by Cliff Ryder
Kate massaged her tense neck muscles. "We always look for those, but they still manage to surprise."
She flicked through the file on Taburova and brought it up side by side with General Kumarin's. She had the definite feeling that she was missing something there. She didn't have the slightest clue what it was.
51
Moscow
"You need to relax and be patient."
"I am being patient," Sergei said irritably. He quietly drummed his thumbs on the steering wheel of the sedan.
Viktor sat in the passenger seat, as cool as if carved from ice. Over the last day, Sergei had seen the man sit like that for hours. All that moved were his eyes. He barely seemed to breathe.
Sergei went back to watching the parking lot of the government building where Yuri Kumarin kept a set of offices. They were only a few blocks from the Kremlin, where he usually worked.
The previous night, Sergei and Viktor had broken into the offices. In truth, Sergei had merely accompanied Viktor, while the latter had done the work. Sergei wasn't capable of the miracles the other man had worked with the elite security system in the building. He wondered if Mikhalkov would have been able to handle the system with as much finesse.
Viktor, by all accounts, was impressive.
Sergei glanced at the laptop computer between them. The monitor showed views of Kumarin's office. While they'd been inside, they'd installed the smallest video cameras and audio pickups that Sergei had ever seen. They were designed to access the building's Wi-Fi network and transmit to a satellite pickup Viktor had set up on the building's rooftop HVAC unit. Viktor was certain the monthly bug sweep that Kumarin had scheduled would find it, but that was still nine days away.
If nothing else, the one thing Sergei was certain of was that he wouldn't be able to wait another nine days. He felt that he'd be lucky to make it through another night.
"Something like this takes time," Viktor said.
"I know." Sergei hated that the man could read him so easily.
"We will be fine. Everything is going according to plan."
"To Kumarin's plan, maybe." Sergei tried to keep the bitterness out of his voice, but knew he failed when he saw Viktor smile. Which only made Sergei more irritated.
"You've made plans before?" Viktor asked.
"Of course."
"Remember how easy it was to have those plans upset? All it takes is one misstep." Viktor glanced reassuringly at Sergei. "You and I, tonight, are that misstep for Kumarin. You'll see."
"And if Kumarin chooses another night?"
Viktor shook his head. "Not another night. This one."
"How do you know that?"
"Because the buyer for the weapons is on his way to Moscow."
Sergei bit back a curse. "How long have you known this?"
Viktor shrugged. "A while."
"You could have told me."
"You have been worrying enough."
Sergei cursed. "You people have been withholding information from me."
"Perhaps." Then Viktor nodded. "A little."
"Why?"
Viktor pointed at the laptop and the images of Kumarin working at his desk. "Because we needed you focused on this man."
"Why haven't you simply picked up the buyer?"
"Like Kumarin, this other man is not easily caught. During the time that they're together, they should be slightly more vulnerable."
"And if they're not?"
"They will be. You must accept this."
Sergei wanted to shout in frustration, but he knew it would do no good. He breathed out and made himself be patient.
Then, on the laptop monitor, Kumarin put down the phone and got up from his desk. He grabbed his coat from a chair behind him and pulled it on. Calmly he took a pistol from the desk drawer, slipped the magazine out to check the load, then snapped it back into place and tucked it into a pancake holster at the small of his back. Another drawer yielded a smaller automatic in a holster, which he strapped to his right leg.
"This is not a man who trusts others," Viktor commented.
"No," Sergei agreed. This was the first time since they'd had Kumarin under surveillance that the man had strapped on the hideaway pistol.
"I think," Viktor said calmly, "that you are through waiting."
A sleek black limousine pulled up in front of the building and waited. After a short time, Kumarin appeared and climbed into the back.
When the car started forward, Sergei put the sedan in gear and eased out into the traffic in pursuit. His heart felt like a triphammer against his ribs.
* * *
Moscow
For a few minutes after the truck stopped, Ajza sat in the rear compartment in the dark. Slivers of light crept in from outside. The sounds of traffic and the frequent stops let her know they were in a city. Given the distance they'd driven, she felt certain it was Moscow.
Maaret sat with her child in one corner of the compartment. She hadn't been allowed to milk the goat or prepare bottles before they'd left, and the baby had nursed everything she had. As a result, he was now hungry and whimpering.
A guard pulled aside the tarp covering the rear of the truck. "Shut that baby up," he ordered.
"He's hungry," Maaret pleaded. "There's nothing I can do." But she pulled him close and he quieted.
Ajza knew the baby wouldn't be silent for long. She stood up to loosen her stiff muscles and felt a burst of nervous energy.
Beyond the open tarp, the Moskva River gleamed like a silver ribbon beneath the quarter moon. Pleasure boats carried tourists along. At the river's edge, numerous small craft were moored at several docks. Inland were warehouses and specialty shops.
The Kitai-gorod was arguably the oldest neighborhood in Russia. Built in the early sixteenth century, it had been much changed and added to since. Many of the old historical buildings had been razed to make room for the businesses that grew up around the river trade. Now many of those businesses chased tourist money.
The area the trucks had stopped in was mostly deserted. During the day, Ajza thought, the street was probably filled with shoppers and blue-collar workers.
"Get out," the guard ordered.
Ajza waited in line for a moment, then crawled out of the truck. She took the baby when Maaret handed him down, then gave him back to his mother when she stepped down.
A panel van pulled to a rocking halt only a few feet away. The side door slid open and two of Taburova's men stood there with assault rifles.
Taburova got out on the passenger side and gestured to the women to come closer. "Over here. Quickly. We don't have much time."
The men operated like an assembly line, hauling explosive vests from the cargo van and buckling the women into them.
"Be careful of these vests," Taburova warned. "Once they are secure, any attempt you make to remove them will result in detonation."
Having no choice, Ajza stepped forward and a man slipped a vest onto her. Then he handed her a chador to pull on over it. She stepped away, lightly fingering the deadly vest.
"Are you still ready to die to kill our enemies?" Taburova asked.
Ajza looked at him. "Yes," she answered. She glanced back and saw Maaret being fitted for a vest while still holding her child. Ilyas's child. She turned back to Taburova. "I am ready now more than ever."
And if it came to that, she was as prepared as she could be to give her life. But she wanted Ilyas's child free and out of harm's way first. For the moment she planned to stay close to Taburova. She didn't think he would set off the vests if he was close to anyone wearing one.
52
Headlights flared at the corner and a long black limousine coasted down the street. Ajza watched as it stopped almost a hundred yards away, well out of range of the explosives. From the way it sat so heavily on its tires, Ajza guessed it was armored enough to be blastproof.
Taburova nodded to his men and took out his cell phone. He listened for a moment, then closed the phone and walked to one of the ne
arby warehouses. After he entered a code on the keypad, the door opened and he went inside.
Ajza stood near the door, just close enough to draw Saleh's attention. He barked at her to stay back, but she remained close enough to see Taburova open a crate and take out an assault rifle. In the dim light it took Ajza a moment to recognize it as an American military M4A1.
She'd found the cache of weapons.
Excitement raced through her, then quickly died when she realized she had no way to contact the people who had given her the mission. The weight of the explosive vest scared her.
Taburova took his cell phone out and spoke briefly again. When he finished this time, he walked toward a sedan parked beside the warehouse.
"Saleh, get the vans loaded," Taburova ordered.
Ajza tried to guess what Taburova was going to do with the sedan. He had the weapons. All he had to do was load them. She knew he was the type to supervise something like this. But he was making no effort to do that.
Saleh looked uncomfortable, too, and he looked even worse when Taburova climbed in the car and drove away. The other men looked to Saleh for guidance. At last he shrugged and put them to work.
Looking around at the women wearing the explosive vests, at the Chechen rebels carrying the American weapons, Ajza knew what was going on. It was a setup. Taburova and whoever was in the limousine were the only people who were supposed to walk away from this.
* * *
New York
"Taburova's leaving?" Jake's surprise was audible.
Kate cursed as she opened the communications channel to the team she had standing by in Moscow. It had only just arrived and the members hadn't had the chance yet to deploy properly. They were running sloppy on this one and she hated that.
"Move in," she said. "Move in now and take them all down. See if you can jam those explosives."
"Roger that," the team leader responded.
"Mark them," Kate told the tech-support teams.
Almost instantly, moving figures lit up on the screens to designate the commandos on loan to Room 59 for the operation. They were too bunched up and hadn't effectively saturated the hot zone.
Jake got to his feet, no longer able to sit. His jaw muscles worked fiercely. "Taburova has the detonator."
"I know," Kate said.
"As soon as he gets clear, he's going to set them off, kill his guys so they can't rat him out and then call the FSB down on the area immediately."
"I know." Kate stared at the screen and saw the one lone figure running after the car Taburova had driven off in. But another car was in motion too.
"What do you want us to do?" Viktor asked in his quiet, steady voice.
Kate thought about the women and the explosive vests, but she also thought about Kumarin. She didn't want the general to get away.
Ajza was closing on Taburova's vehicle. Let her catch him. Please let her catch him, Kate thought.
"Stay with Kumarin," Kate said. Then she took a deep breath. It was all out of her hands now.
* * *
Moscow
"Stop Kumarin," Viktor said.
Heart thundering, Sergei pressed the accelerator. The car surged forward. He'd parked just down the alley with the lights off and had escaped notice. Or maybe Kumarin didn't care.
His headlights fell across the women and he saw that they all wore body-concealing chadores. Astonishment flooded him.
"Those women…" he began.
"Are Chechen," Viktor said. "I know. Kumarin was selling the weapons to a Chechen terrorist named Taburova."
Sergei had heard of Taburova. The man was a killer many times over.
"That doesn't make sense." Sergei quickly overtook Kumarin's car.
"Kumarin wanted to frame the United States as being supporters of Taburova and his kind of terrorists in Chechnya. It's not so hard to imagine when you think of the big picture." Viktor tapped his glass. "Ram him."
Sergei pulled the wheel hard and slammed into Kumarin's car. After the grating screech of metal against metal, the other car managed to pull away a few feet.
Without a word Viktor took out his pistol and fired through his window at the driver's side of the other car. Glass shattered and fell away as blood painted the inside of the vehicle.
"Armor-piercing rounds," Viktor said. "I always come prepared."
Driverless, the car slammed against an alley wall and stalled. Sergei blocked it in with his vehicle, then he and Viktor clambered out.
Kumarin stumbled from the back of the other car holding his pistol. He fired and Sergei felt something hot and heavy slam into his left forearm. But he kept his pistol on target and methodically squeezed off rounds. His bullets drove Kumarin back, then one of Viktor's bullets almost decapitated him.
Turning around, Sergei was shocked to see the battle that had erupted behind him. Several men in black counter-terrorist uniforms attacked the Chechen rebels without mercy.
"Who are they?" Sergei asked.
"Our backup," Viktor replied. "You'll learn, my friend, that the people we work for never go anywhere unprepared."
Sergei pointed at the woman chasing the car. "Then why is she chasing that car?"
Viktor shrugged. "That was something unforeseen."
* * *
Ajza ran, stretching her stride out as much as she could. Taburova was distracted, reaching into his pocket for something. By the time she caught up with him, he had the remote detonator in his hand.
The arrival of the shock troops had caught Ajza off guard, but she knew that even if they defeated Taburova's men, the exploding Black Widows would kill them.
And Ilyas's baby. All that she had left of her brother.
With a cry of rage, her lungs burning and aching, Ajza lunged at the back of the car, landing on the trunk.
Taburova turned and saw her over his shoulder. He dropped the detonator and picked up his pistol. He aimed at pointblank range as Ajza threw herself onto the roof of the car. The initial barrage of bullets blew out the car's back window. Then Taburova finished off his magazine firing through the rooftop.
But by then Ajza had slid back down to the car's trunk. She stood precariously and stomped the broken glass from the car's window. She crawled through the hole and reached for Taburova, locking her forearm around his neck.
Taburova fought her with one hand. She applied more pressure, cutting off his air and closing down his carotid arteries. He released the wheel entirely and grabbed her forearm with both hands.
Screaming with inarticulate rage, knowing that if Taburova succeeded in throwing her from the vehicle he would set off the explosives, Ajza held on. The car careened out of control and struck a wall. She flew over the seat and her head shattered the front windshield. Even then she held on.
The car stopped moving, one bumper against the wall. Taburova fought only a moment longer, then unconsciousness claimed him at last.
Ajza wasted no time. She found and removed the batteries from the detonator, then crawled out of the wrecked car. Two men drove up in another car.
"FSB," one of them said, holding up identification. He held a pistol in his other hand. He peered in through the window. "Is he still alive?"
"Yes," Ajza replied. "But he doesn't deserve to be."
Even when she'd been thinking of Ilyas and how Taburova had been responsible for her brother's death, she hadn't been able to kill him.
That was just who she was. And part of her was glad of that.
Epilogue
Leicester
"Ajza?"
"Yes." Ajza turned her attention away from her parents' shop and glanced at Maaret, standing beside her.
For the past three days, they'd been involved in clearing up the mission in Moscow. Maaret and the baby had received medical attention, and both had checked out in good health. Ajza was more tired than she'd thought possible, but the whole time she'd looked forward to and dreaded telling her parents what she'd come to tell them.
"You are nervous?" Maaret as
ked.
"Yes. They're…well, they're my parents."
Maaret studied the shop apprehensively. "Are they not good parents?"
"They are good parents," Ajza said quickly. "Absolutely brill." Then she realized she'd spoken in English and translated for the younger woman. "It's just…they've been through a lot."
"This is not a good time for them to meet Ilyas's son?"
Ajza was afraid of what seeing the baby would do to her parents. The little boy would remind them of Ilyas, as he did her, but the boy was also proof that Ilyas lived on.
Her cell phone rang and she answered it.
"What are you waiting for?" the woman asked.
Ajza recognized the voice at once.
"Are you just going to stand out there with that handsome baby and not show him to your parents?"
Shading her eyes, Ajza stared up at the sky. "I figured you would have better things to do than spy on me."
"It's a slow morning. We have those occasionally."
"So in addition to being a spy, you're a busybody?"
The woman chuckled. "I thought being a busybody was a prerequisite for spying." She paused. "Nervous?"
"Yes. I was trying to figure how best to do this."
"It's family," the woman said. "There is no best and worst. Family just is. Finding out about your nephew is going to shock them, but it's also going to make them happy. He's a baby. Babies are the best kind of medicine. Trust me."
"All right."
"After a few days I'll be in touch," the woman said. "We're going to bring you into the fold. Let you know more about what you'll be doing."
"And who I'm doing it for?"
"Yes."
"I'm looking forward to that," Ajza admitted.
"Go," the woman urged. "Show off the baby."
Ajza put her phone away and took a deep breath.
"Is everything all right?" Maaret asked.
Ajza nodded.
Maaret held the baby out to her. "Maybe you should carry him."
"You don't mind?"
"No. I would be pleased if you would do this."
Tenderly Ajza took her nephew, gazed into his blue eyes that were the exact shade of Ilyas's and laughed despite the ache within her.
