by Matthew Dunn
Just as he’d done with Will.
He’d go after Mikhail’s loved ones.
Fifteen
Will couldn’t sleep during the flight. He was tired, but his mind was too active and his emotions confused. He tried not to think about Sarah, about the disgust he felt toward himself for putting her and her husband in danger, about the way she’d held him and asked, Where have you gone, my little brother?
But those thoughts remained. As did the worry that sometime over the coming days, a man with a gun could be walking toward a house in suburban Moscow, kicking the door in, and shooting Mikhail’s family.
Until now, the right thing to do had been to allow the standoff between the SVR officer and William to continue until Will could establish William’s location and the significance of the paper in his possession. But things had changed. He was totally reliant on Mikhail to keep William pinned down, and he was totally vulnerable to the possibility that Mikhail could lose his nerve, if he realized his family was under threat, and return to Moscow.
If no threat had yet presented itself to Mikhail’s family, Will had one option available to him to accelerate matters. But that option would also place other people’s lives in extreme danger.
That afternoon, Will stood outside a faculty building belonging to the Belarusian State University, Minsk. Students were leaving the building, carrying books and bags, some of them holding hands, all of them dressed in scarves and hats and coats. They all seemed carefree and full of joy, and as Will watched them he hoped that none of them would make the kind of choices he’d made toward the end of his degree program.
Alina exited the building, carrying Maria in one arm and a folded baby carriage in the other. She stopped and tried to open the carriage but appeared to be struggling.
Will walked quickly across the street. “Hello, Alina.”
She barely glanced at him, looked annoyed with the carriage, and continued to try to release catches. “Damn thing. I think it really has broken this time. Here.” She handed Maria to him. “Keep her warm.”
Will took her, wondered what to do given he’d never held a baby before, then unbuttoned his thick overcoat, placed her inside, and drew the coat around her. “Thanks for meeting me at such short notice.”
Alina was bent over the baby carriage, trying to yank bits of it apart, clearly on the verge of losing her temper. Something snapped close to her hand. She rose, holding a jagged piece of plastic tubing. “Shit!” She tossed the tubing away and kicked the carriage. “Another expense!”
“Come on.” Will looked at the dark clouds above. “We need to get inside before the heavens open.” He started opening his coat.
But Alina said, “She seems happy with you.” She grabbed the carriage, walked up to a university security guard who was attempting to light a cigarette in the bitterly cold easterly wind, spoke to him, and left the useless carriage in his care. Returning to Will, she muttered, “I didn’t bring Maria a waterproof coat because the carriage keeps her dry. If we walk quickly, we can be home in twenty minutes. But watch out for patches of ice.”
She led the way, with Will anxiously scouring the ground for signs of anything that would cause him to slip with his precious burden.
They walked past shops and parkland before moving into residential streets. “I’m not sure I can be of any further help to you.”
Will gingerly stepped onto a sidewalk and replied, “You may be right.”
“Aren’t you supposed to tell me that you know I’m hiding something from you?”
“I’d be relieved if you were; it would mean this trip hasn’t been a waste of time.”
“I’m going to disappoint you.”
Maria seemed to be waking up. She was emitting small sounds and starting to move. Will held her close to his chest, hoping that his coat was keeping her warm and that she didn’t try to wriggle out of her wrappings.
When they reached Alina’s apartment building, snow was starting to fall. Will placed his big arms farther around his care. Alina tapped numbers into a security pad while cursing and shaking.
The warmth was immediate as they entered the building. Thirty seconds later, they were inside Alina’s apartment. Alina took Maria, placed her in a high chair, and disappeared into the kitchen. As Will dumped his coat over the sofa, he could hear Alina putting a kettle on to boil and rummaging through cupboards. When she returned to the living room, she was holding a small plastic bowl containing a spoon and baby food. Placing the food in front of Maria, she looked at Will and frowned. “You’ve got Maria’s dribble on your suit. Start feeding her; I’ll get a sponge.”
Will grabbed a chair and positioned it in front of the child. Sitting, he looked at Maria, saw the child bang her fists expectantly on the high chair’s tray, and tentatively raised the spoon to her mouth. Maria swallowed the food, banged her fists again, and beamed.
Alina reentered the room holding two mugs of tea. After placing one of them next to Will, she crouched down beside him and smoothed a damp sponge over his jacket’s lapel. “It should be fine.”
“I don’t mind.” Will placed another spoonful into Maria’s mouth.
“You have children?”
Will shook his head.
“Your wife is one of those busy career woman types?”
Will smiled. “I don’t have one of them either. I live alone.”
She stood and glanced at her baby. “Well, you’re not doing a bad job. Sometimes it takes me an hour to get her to take her first mouthful. The cold must have built up her appetite.” She sat on the sofa and took a gulp of her tea. Keeping her eyes fixed on him, she asked, “Have you come back because you’re suspicious of me?”
Will laughed gently. “I have to be suspicious of people.”
“Is that why you don’t have a wife? You have trust issues?”
Will’s smile faded.
“Must be an occupational hazard, I guess.”
Will scooped the spoon through more baby food. “From what you’ve said, Lenka was different.”
“Was?”
“Is.”
She was silent for a moment before saying, “He’s always been an academically intelligent man, but not smart. Does that make sense?”
“I know what you mean.” He gave Maria more food.
“His flaw, and I’ve always loved him for it, is that he’s too trusting of people. He should never have joined the SVR.” She gripped her mug, allowing its warmth to soothe her cold hands. “You’re obviously different.”
Will held the spoon in midair, feeling a moment of sadness. “Yes.” He placed the spoon into Maria’s mouth.
“What suspicions do you have about me?”
Will scraped the last of the food onto a spoon and said, “I had to consider whether you were a Belarusian security service or SVR officer planted here to meet whoever came knocking on the door after Lenka disappeared, or a freelance agent for one of those services, maybe that you aren’t Alina Petrova. So I checked up on you. While I can’t discount the possibility that you’re an agent, I do know for certain that your identity checks out and that you’re not an intelligence officer.” He placed the spoon into the empty bowl and turned toward her. “But I don’t think you’re an agent or have previously had any kind of relationship with intelligence services. The relationship that matters to you is the one you have with Lenka. I think that if anyone had approached you and asked you to spy on your lover, you’d have told them to go to hell.”
Alina nodded.
“But I could be wrong.”
She was motionless.
“Though I hope not.”
Quietly, she said, “I’m not a spy.”
“Many spies say that.” Will grabbed his tea and nodded toward Maria. The girl was now playing with different-colored plastic shapes that were looped on a wire attached to her chair. “Has she had enough food?”
“Yes. Thank you, I. .” Her voiced trailed and she lowered her head. “I too have to deal with possibilities r
ight now.” She looked at him. “You can’t deny that it’s possible Lenka’s dead.”
“Or that he’s alive.”
Alina shook her head. “He stole a piece of paper and delivered it to someone. What use is he to that person now?”
Will knew that she was right, but he could also see that she was becoming tearful. “Killing a man is not an easy thing to do.” He pictured the armor-clad private contractors attempting to slaughter anything that moved in the Gdansk port. “We don’t know if we’re dealing with a killer.”
Alina looked desperate. “Should I send him another message? Should you send him a message?”
“Saying what?”
“I don’t know.”
“Have you sent him any messages aside from the one about the contents of the note?”
She hesitated. “I sent him one right after Mikhail came here. But he didn’t reply.”
“What did you say?”
“The truth. That a Russian intelligence officer called Mikhail had been asking questions about him.”
Will’s heartbeat increased. “Any since?”
“No.”
“Why not?”
“Because. .” She drained the last of her tea. “Because I’m not sure the messages would be read by him. Maybe his phone is now with. . them.”
Will nodded.
Her expression changed, and she said quickly, “Couldn’t you give me words to manipulate them? Anything that might keep him alive.”
Will didn’t answer her. Instead, he looked around the tiny but well-maintained home, then let his gaze rest on Maria. “If I can bring Lenka back to you, do you think he’ll stay?”
“Of course. The only reason he hasn’t lived with us was because he had a wage coming in. But whatever happens, there’s no going back to the SVR.” Alina smiled. “I think he’ll be relieved that the decision’s been made for him. Somehow, we’ll make ends meet. He’ll stay.”
It was the answer Will had expected. “I did consider asking you to send Lenka another message, knowing it would be read by the man who’s got him. Your message would have said that I’d visited you and advised you that I knew Lenka’s location, that matters would be concluded tomorrow and that I would try to keep Lenka alive, but that it was imperative that you went somewhere safe until all of this was over in case there were repercussions. You would have added that you didn’t believe that I was going to keep him alive, that Lenka should keep his phone safe and that you would contact him as soon as you were safe.”
“What purpose would such a message have served?”
“It might have caused the men who are holding Lenka to panic and move.”
And in turn to mobilize the SVR team, and to enable Will’s team to follow them and gun down William and anyone working for him, all before William had time to threaten Mikhail’s family and cause the SVR officer to back down from his vigil on William.
“But that’s good! They’ll abandon Lenka.”
Will shook his head. “They’ll put a bullet in his brain.”
Alina looked uncertain. “If he’s not dead yet, right now he’s as good as dead. Isn’t sending the message worth the risk?”
“Would you be willing to press Send on your phone, knowing you might actually be pulling a trigger?”
“I. .”
“In any case, there are other risks.”
Alina frowned.
Moving to the sofa, he sat next to Alina and held one of her hands between his. “I believe that the man who’s leading Lenka’s captors is very smart. There’s every possibility that he will suspect your message was dictated by me. That would place you in danger.” He glanced at Maria. “Both of you.”
“We could move somewhere safe.”
“Where?”
“My parents’, or my aunts’.”
“Does Lenka know their identities and locations?”
“Yes, he’s. . Oh, I see.”
Lenka could be tortured to reveal their addresses.
“I’m sorry-we can’t discount that possibility. Plus, I suspect you’d need to keep up your work at the university.”
“I have to earn my salary.”
“No doubt, but they could get you there.”
Alina squeezed his hand. “There must be something we can do.”
“Maybe, but sending a message would endanger far too many people.”
Including his sister.
Alina stared at nothing and said quietly, “You said you’d try to bring him back to me. Did you mean what you said?”
“Yes.”
Alina looked at him and smiled. A tear ran down her cheek.
Will said, “There is still hope.”
“What hope?” She yanked her hand away from him. “You don’t know where he is; you don’t know who he’s with; you know nothing about the paper he’s stolen; and you don’t know if he’s alive or dead.”
Will nodded. “All of that has to change. I need his home address in Russia. Can you give that to me?”
Alina frowned. “Sure, but. . how can that be useful?”
“Have you been there before?”
“Three times. It’s a rural cottage, outside Moscow.”
“Did you notice whether he keeps a safe in the house?”
“I don’t think so. . No, I’m sure I’d have seen one if it was there. The house is small.”
“Does he have a private space-a locked cabinet, drawers, anywhere that he’d use to keep things that only he could access?”
The confusion on Alina’s face was evident. “No. I told you before: he didn’t like to hide anything from me.”
“That might be true, but he might have wished to hide something from you that he considered dangerous.”
“Like what?”
“Information.” Will stood and put on his overcoat. Maria was still playing with the shapes. Will grabbed one of them and moved it quickly back and forth on the wire while smiling at the child. Maria giggled and tried to get the shape, but Will moved it out of reach, then gave it to her. He thought for a moment before reaching into a pocket and withdrawing his wallet. It contained 1.6 million Belarusian rubles, the approximate equivalent of two hundred dollars. He pulled out all of the cash and held it toward Alina. “I don’t know if it’s enough to get a new baby carriage, but please accept it.”
Alina looked offended. “We manage. I don’t need your charity and I certainly don’t need spy money.”
Will tried to think what to say. He settled on honesty. “It’s my own cash, and in any case if you get her a new carriage it will save me from being petrified that I’m going to slip while carrying her next time I come.”
“Next time?” Alina’s expression had changed.
“Just. .” Will felt awkward. “Just to see you’re both okay.”
Alina’s eyes narrowed. “Lenka may not be in my life right now, but as you say, I must have hope that he’s alive and will come to me. I’ve no desire for another lover.”
Will sighed. “That’s not why I’m here.”
The anger returned. “I agree. You’re here because you have an agenda to get the stolen paper.”
“Please, take the money.”
“Are you attempting to cleanse your conscience?”
Will shook his head. “No, no.” He gestured toward Maria. “I just want her to have a waterproof roof over her head. That’s all. Please.”
Alina’s expression became neutral. “No strings?”
“None.”
She hesitated, then took the money. “I can’t say it won’t help. What do you hope to find at Lenka’s house?”
“A secret.”
“Won’t the police have searched the place and be guarding it?”
“Probably.”
“Then you mustn’t go there.”
Will saw that she was genuinely concerned. “You’re right that I’ve got no idea what’s going on. But I have to go there. It’s my only chance of helping Lenka.”
She kept her eyes on him,
seemed deep in thought, and said quietly, “He told me before our first visit to his home that he’d made the place ‘Maria-proof,’ that he bought a gate for the stairs so that she couldn’t hurt herself by climbing them, that the only dangerous place was the basement, though he kept that padlocked.”
“Basement? Where?”
“In the hallway.”
Will studied her. “What’s in there?”
“I don’t know.”
“Yes you do! You have no secrets, remember?”
For a moment, Alina looked angry. Her expression changed. “Lenka told me once that if anything were to happen to him, I should go to the basement. One of the electricity sockets is false. Behind it is a hole. He keeps money and valuable documents in there.”
“Thank you.”
Alina shrugged and said in a matter-of-fact way, “I think we’d like it if you came back. Can you eat kotleta pokrestyansky?”
“Sure.”
“Then I’ll cook the dish next time you’re in Minsk.”
Very few women had cooked for Will. For the briefest of moments, he felt totally removed from the real reason he was here. “I’ll trim the pork cutlets, if you like?”
Alina nodded. “That would be a help.” She moved away from him. “I. . I’ll write down Lenka’s address.”
As she walked out of the room, Will placed one of his big scarred hands against Maria’s cheek. She looked at him and smiled. Quietly, he sang her a children’s song, one he remembered from his childhood, and when he finished he stared at her, feeling nothing but guilt. He was sure his decision not to send the message was the right one. It was probable that William would have seen through it and in turn would have killed Lenka and gone after Alina, Maria, and Sarah. But it was possible that the ruse would have worked. He wondered if Mikhail had a young daughter.
It seemed ever true that in order for him to save one person, at least one other had to die.
Sixteen
Tibor walked quickly along the corridors of CIA headquarters in Langley. He was in the part of the building that housed the National Clandestine Service and specifically was moving through the section belonging to the Office of Russian and European Analysis. Most of the doors in the corridor were closed; beyond them were intelligence officers who kept their doors shut to protect their secrets from others within the organization. Tibor smiled as he continued walking, because no number of closed doors could prevent Flintlock having access to the CIA’s secrets.
