Change of Heart by Jack Allen

by Unknown

Mironov looked up at him.

  “Where’s Foley?” the agent said.

  “In the stall,” Mironov said, nodding toward the row of stalls.

  He shook the water off his hands. “He is not feeling well. Could you pass me one of those towels?”

  The agent reached for a stack of paper towels on the ledge at the bottom of the mirror and handed one to Mironov.

  “Thank you,” Mironov said.

  In the mirror, he caught a glimpse of Kobalev coming up behind him. He heard the gunshots more distinctly that time, since he was standing closer. The dark haired agent fell forward against Mironov, looking up into his eyes as he died, still holding the paper towel. Mironov saw anger in those eyes, but was not moved by it. He had no feelings for American agents.

  Together, he and Kobalev deposited him in a second stall.

  Without a word, Kobalev removed the backpack from his shoulders and handed it to Mironov, who went into one of the empty stalls at the far end of the long row, and closed the door. As he unzipped the backpack, Mironov heard the noise of the water in the sink increase slightly. Kobalev had turned it up to cover any noise he might make.

  Inside the backpack was a change of clothes, a cap, shoes, a small Russian pistol and a wallet with forged identification and money in small, U.S. bills. He changed into the new clothes, put on the shoes and cap, put the wallet and gun in his pockets, and 178

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  stuffed his old clothes into the backpack. If he was lucky, the clothes might make it back with him and he could wear them again in Moscow.

  Vitaly Kobalev was a loyal man who served Mironov for many years in the KGB. Mironov planned to reward him for his loyalty when the Party was replaced into power and he was given a position of prominence. When Mironov came out of the stall, Kobalev was still running his hands under the water. He went to the sink beside his soldier and washed his hands. He held out the backpack and Kobalev slipped it over his shoulder. Mironov noticed the other stalls were all empty and they were alone. All the same, they were in a busy airport and there would be people going in and out.

  “There has been a change,” Kobalev said in Russian, his low voice covered by the noise of the water.

  Mironov had to strain to hear.

  “What change?”

  “They do not have the girl.”

  Mironov was flabbergasted. He went through this entire ordeal for the specific purpose of getting the girl, and now it was all for nothing.

  “How can they not have the girl?”

  Kobalev shrugged. “They lost her. They do not know for certain where she went.”

  A short, rotund man came in and went to a urinal against the far wall. Mironov lowered his voice.

  “What about McGowan?”

  “They believe he is with her.”

  “Where are they now?”

  “They believe in Tokyo.”

  Mironov saw an opportunity. It couldn’t be too difficult to find a single Russian woman in a nation of Japanese. And if McGowan was with her, Mironov could get both of them.

  “Maybe it won’t be in vain.”

  “Pardon me?” Kobalev said.

  “How many men do we have in Tokyo?” Change of Heart

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  “Four. Plus Grinkov.”

  Mironov nodded.

  “I have an idea. I hope this entire mission will not have been in vain.”

  “As do I.”

  Kobalev went out. Mironov waited a minute or two, then followed.

  Chapter 10

  Filmore saw the paper that morning and did not like what she read. The Russians released the information of the prison break and the escape of a former member of the KGB. They accused the United States of involvement and came right out to say the CIA performed the deed. Despite the fact that this was all true, it put the President in a bad spot and he, in turn, would put Filmore in a worse spot.

  It was eight thirty in the morning and she had been waiting outside the Oval Office for more than an hour. Wrenbeck was preparing for a morning press conference and his response to the charges the Russians made hinged on what she would tell him.

  And she had nothing to tell him.

  There was not a single report of Josh’s whereabouts since he left the carrier America in the northwestern Pacific forty eight hours ago. Filmore was going now on the assumption that he was dead. She didn’t know how he could have run into trouble, but anything could have happened, especially when Josh was involved.

  If Josh and the girl were dead, then the mission was a complete failure and everything: the job, the funding, this little experiment, her career, everything was over. If the Russians had them, then there would be a lot of hard questions to answer, and again, everything would be over. The situation did not look good for her or the President. But what the hell was she going to tell him?

  The Oval Office door opened and Wrenbeck came out. Vessey 180

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  and a few others Filmore recognized as members of Wrenbeck’s administration walked behind him. Wrenbeck walked to her with the entourage in tow.

  “Good morning, Admiral,” he said with a warm smile and his hand extended. “Sorry to keep you waiting so long.”

  “Yes, sir,” Filmore said as she shook his hand, her voice weak with shock and uncertainty.

  She could detect no sarcasm in his voice. The man actually seemed glad to see her. Could it be that bad?

  Vessey spoke up. “Excuse me, sir, the press is waiting.”

  “They’re not going anywhere. They can wait,” Wrenbeck insisted. “And could you leave us for a few minutes? I’ll be along, don’t worry.”

  Vessey looked taken aback. Obviously, he wasn’t used to being treated like a butler. With a look of dismay, Vessey walked off.

  Wrenbeck and Filmore moved down the hall, away from the others, where they could not be heard.

  “Where do we stand?” Wrenbeck began.

  Filmore had to prevent herself from sighing in frustration.

  She did not sleep well, if at all. This mission was only a couple of weeks old, from the time they picked up Mironov, but it was taking its toll on her.

  She cleared her throat. She could already feel the dreadful truth coming out. Wrenbeck was going to drag her on the carpet for this one, she was certain.

  “I regret that I have no new information to report.” She could hear the lack of confidence in her voice and she was sure he could hear it as well. “I have heard nothing. As of now we do not have the girl and we do not know her whereabouts or her condition. I have heard from neither my operative or the USS

  Dallas. Frankly, sir, I fear the worst.” Wrenbeck nodded, staring at the carpet as she spoke as if he was figuring out how to stomp her face in it.

  “The Russians have pulled this one on us before,” he said.

  “Sir?”

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  “This is a Gary Powers all over. They get us to deny the whole thing, then pull out the spy for the whole world to see. It’s the only trick they know, but they use it very well.”

  “So what are you going to do?”

  “I’m going to deny the whole thing. If it blows up in our faces, then I guess we both lose our jobs.”

  “Yes, sir,” Filmore said, but Wrenbeck was already going into the press room.

  She stared at his back, astounded. For the first time in their mutual careers, and most likely the last, he treated her like a real person.

  She had nothing to do now. All she could think of was to go back to her office and clean out her desk. Still, her mind was on Joshua. She could not stand the idea that he might be dead. And if the Russians had him, would that be worse? He might think so. She hated to think of what they might be doing to him right then.

  Joshua moaned. He lay face down on the bed with his head buried in a pillow. Valeria’s fingers kneaded the tension from the muscles in his neck. She felt refreshed after a quick shower.

&nb
sp; Her skin glowed and her hands were warm on his skin. She was surprised to feel how tight his muscles were. She surprised herself even more by offering to give him the massage. She wanted to hate this man and she kept trying, but she could not find it within herself. She didn’t really want to be where she was now. Joshua was the one responsible for bringing her here, and he represented all the other people who put her in such great danger in such a short period, but even so, she could not hate him. He might have put her life in danger, but he was also the one who pulled her through it. If it wasn’t for him, she might still be on that sailboat or worse, back in the hands of her captors. A cheap hotel room in a remote city of northern Japan was far better than that damp, cold, stinking cell in Siberia.

  Besides, this was a beautiful man. He was tall and had broad, muscular shoulders and those deep, dark eyes that spoke to her.

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  She could fall in love with this man. He was strong enough to carry the world on his shoulders, yet gentle enough to make sure she was comfortable before he was. He was confident when chal-lenged, yet frightened when faced with danger. She had known many men in her life, few of whom possessed any of the qualities Joshua McGowan had. One of those men was the one she was already in love with and even though she had been through great risks already, she would put herself through much greater risks if that was what it took to be back with him.

  She was tempted to take that risk right then, while Joshua was most vulnerable. Their hotel room was only on the third floor and if she could get away she could get down to the lobby and disappear in the street. By the time they even started to search for her she could have contacted Yuri and he would be on his way to pick her up. Once she was reunited with him she would make sure they were never separated again.

  But how could she get away from Joshua without him just chasing her down to the lobby? He would catch her, she had no doubt about that. She could kill him, but with what, the pillow?

  He was much too strong for her to do that, and besides, she’d never killed anyone in her life, despite the amount of time the KGB spent teaching her how.

  She could hit him on the head to put him out. She looked around the room. The lamp was secured to the table. The television was too big for her to pick up, and even if she could, it would probably kill him if she hit him on the head with it.

  Maybe she could put him to sleep. He had been very quiet and very still for a long time while she rubbed his shoulders. He must have been exhausted. If he fell asleep, all she had to do was walk out. She began to slow down, hoping he was asleep.

  “Don’t stop,” Joshua said in Russian.

  His voice was muffled by the pillow, but still startled her. He shifted to his side and looked up at her out of the corner of his eye.

  “What are you looking at?” she said in an annoyed tone.

  He didn’t appear as exhausted as he should have been.

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  “You.”

  “Why?”

  He chuckled. “You don’t look like a spy.”

  “Who said I was a spy?”

  “Colonel Mironov,” Joshua said and a chill ran down her back.

  Her fingers stopped rubbing his shoulders. She had almost succeeded in forgetting that man. Hearing his name again was like a cold dagger thrust into her belly. It seemed unreal that he was behind all of this. If the Americans talked to him he must have gone over to their side. That, however, did not sound like Mironov. He would sooner die than betray the motherland. There was a lot more to this than she imagined.

  “You spoke to Mironov?” she said, forcing herself to be nonchalant.

  “Only for a few minutes.”

  Valeria paused, but curiosity burned inside her.

  “What did he say about me?”

  “He said you were a KGB whore.”

  Joshua smiled when he said it and her curiosity flared to anger.

  “And he is a fat communist pig,” Valeria snarled.

  Joshua was still smiling at her. How could he think that was funny? She punched his shoulder as hard as she could and got off the bed. Joshua grabbed his shoulder, muttering an ouch.

  “You and Mironov can go to hell.”

  His smile disappeared and he rolled on his back.

  “I guess you don’t like him.”

  Valeria plopped in the chair at the table and sneered, her arms crossed on her chest.

  “I do not like him at all.”

  “I thought you’d be glad he helped us bust you out.”

  “I’d be glad if he was rotting in that prison instead of me.” Joshua sat up. “How did you become a spy?” he asked.

  Valeria glared at him. How could he ask such a question? She did not want to answer something so personal. She looked into Change of Heart

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  his eyes, trying to read his thoughts, but she saw nothing hidden there, only those irresistible eyes. How could she make up lies when he looked at her with such honesty?

  “Mironov made me a spy,” she tried, but it was only a half-hearted attempt and Joshua saw right through it.

  “I know that much. How?”

  She searched his eyes for deception or motive. There was none, only honest concern. How could this man be a spy without the slightest hint of deviousness? He would never survive.

  She found herself wanting to tell the story. It was something she had not even told Yuri, but she was about to reveal her entire life to a man she had known only a couple of days.

  “He ... found me.”

  It was not a happy story and she made no attempt to embel-lish it to make it seem so. When she was a child her father was a prominent man in Soviet society. She knew little about him other than he was a descendant of Russian royalty. Unfortunately for Valeria and her mother, he died young. She was only eleven when her mother remarried, but their lives would never be the same. They were no longer privileged members of upper Soviet society. Her mother struggled to find work just so her family could survive.

  The worst part, though, was the man her mother married.

  The marriage was out of necessity rather than love. Without a husband to bring home wages, she and Valeria would have starved.

  It did not help that the man drank heavily and beat her mother regularly.

  She was thirteen when he came into her room the first time.

  She was unable to sleep, waiting for him to come home, drunk as always, then beat her mother for whatever reason she did not know. She waited to hear his shouting and her mother’s crying, but when he opened her bedroom door she thought he had made a mistake because he was so drunk. She sat up and turned on the light to tell him so and when he slapped her with the back of his hand she was too stunned to even think straight. He took off his pants and climbed on top of her and she was so frightened she 186

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  couldn’t scream, even when it hurt so badly. When it was over he left and she cried for the rest of the night.

  She was so humiliated she never said anything to her mother.

  It went on like that once or twice a week. Her fear of the man grew. She would lay in bed every night, trembling in fear whenever he came home. Her mother never did anything. Valeria was sure she must have known. How could she not? She began to hate her mother for her cowardice as much as she hated the man she married. She vowed to herself she would never marry a man like him, even if her life depended on it.

  Valeria paused, reflecting on the images running through her mind. It was very hard to let them out, but even harder to stop once they started. Her emotions swelled in her throat.

  “What happened?” Joshua said. His voice was soft.

  She took a deep breath.

  “When I was fifteen I ran away. I learned to steal to survive.

  I joined a gang of kids my age and we robbed people. When we got caught they separated me and took me to another building.

  That was when I met Mironov. He put me to work
for him and, here I am.”

  Joshua looked right at her with those eyes and she wanted to fall into his strong arms and lay her head on his shoulder and cry her eyes out. It was such a relief to finally tell someone what she kept buried for so long. She fought it back, though. She didn’t want this one to see her crying.

  “What about you?” she said, trying to change the subject as she felt her throat tightening.

  “What about me?”

  “How did you become a spy?”

  He looked away, smiling with embarrassment and she saw a sparkle in his eyes.

  “I’m not a ... a spy,” he said, and sounded unconvincing.

  “What are you?”

  He held his hands out, searching for the right word.

  “I’m ... I’m a government employee.”

  “Aren’t we all,” Valeria said with as much sarcasm as she Change of Heart

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  could muster. “What do you do for your government?” Joshua shrugged, his head bobbing side to side in a vague way.

  “I catch bad guys.”

  “Except when you get stuck with an embarrassment like me.”

  “That’s not what I meant,” Joshua said.

  “What did you mean?”

  She glared at him with her best KGB interrogator face. Joshua stammered, looking away. Valeria enjoyed watching him squirm.

  She squeezed her mouth shut to keep from laughing out loud.

  “You’re like a ... a symbol of a past the Russian people don’t want to remember. I know it doesn’t sound very nice, but that’s the way it is. They kind of wanted to, you know, keep you hidden away in a safe place so you wouldn’t be used against them. Does that make any sense?”

  “No,” Valeria said, shaking her head.

  Joshua shrugged. “I don’t know how else to explain it.”

  “Why do you do this?” she asked.

  Joshua looked confused. “Why do I do what?”

  “This,” she said, holding her hands out. “Will they terminate you if you don’t?”

  “No,” he said. He still looked confused.

  “Will they terminate your family?”

  “No, not at all. What do you mean?” Valeria paused to decide what she was trying to say.

  “Why do you put your life in danger for your country?” Joshua’s eyebrows arched up. He seemed surprised by the question.