by Unknown
Josh went to Mariko. “Can you get the car?”
“Yes,” she said, handing him the magazine.
She got up and went out.
Through the glass doors, Josh saw Kurchenko on the narrow sidewalk, trying to get a cab. Josh waited, but was impatient. It made him nervous to loiter in the lobby, waiting for a cab to stop for Kurchenko. He didn’t need the house detective to spot him and start asking questions.
Finally a green cab stopped and Kurchenko got in. Josh tossed the magazine on a table and went out. Mariko pulled up into the spot vacated by the taxi and honked. Josh jumped in.
“It gets interesting now,” he said as she raced off after the cab.
Kurchenko’s cab led them on a brief tour of Tokyo. It took Josh a few minutes to remember the route they were taking.
Kurchenko was headed for Lotus Park. It was early summer.
What connection did that have with Lotus Park? Then, as they rounded a corner right behind the cab, Josh remembered the answer. The Blossom Festival, of course.
Lotus Park was not a large park, maybe a third the size of New York’s Central Park, and during the annual Blossom Festival it was crowded with people. Most of the people were Japanese, of course, either participants in the parades and other activities, or people who came from outside the city to take part in the celebra-tion of the holiday, but there were also many tourists from other Change of Heart
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countries. It was the perfect place for Valeria. Nobody would suspect anything of two people meeting in a crowded public park.
The streets were just as crowded. The cars moved slowly if at all. Josh and Mariko were directly behind the green cab.
Through the rear window of the taxi, Josh saw Kurchenko lean forward over the front seat and hand something to the driver.
“He’s getting out,” Josh said.
Kurchenko opened the door and got out of the cab. He looked back for a moment at their car, and Josh looked away. If Kurchenko recognized him from the hotel he might realize he was being followed and cancel the rendezvous, and then it would be impossible to find out if he was there to pick up Valeria.
Josh looked up. Kurchenko was already on the sidewalk, walking away. Josh opened the door and put his foot out.
“Try to stay close if you can,” he said. Traffic started to move.
“If you can’t, I’ll meet you back at the Embassy.”
“Good luck,” Mariko said.
Josh shut the door and dodged the traffic to the sidewalk.
Kurchenko was already disappearing into the crowd. If he got too far ahead, Josh would lose him completely. Fortunately, it wasn’t difficult to pick out his light colored hair.
The park was ablaze with lights, as bright as daylight, with a clear, dark sky and stars overhead. A mass of men in ceremonial dress pushed their way through the center of the park, chanting a religious incantation. Hefted on their shoulders was a huge wooden throne, a shrine to the Shinto gods. Any other time, Josh would have stopped to watch, but keeping up with Kurchenko became more difficult the deeper they went into the park.
Josh bumped into a man smoking a cigarette. He excused himself and went on. The man looked American, so Josh had apologized in English, but he could have been from any country.
In the back of his mind he noticed something familiar about the strong smell of his cigarette.
Kurchenko came to a fountain and stopped. Josh ducked behind a sign as Kurchenko searched the crowd.
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This man was no trained agent, Josh decided. He made no attempt to cover his movements or lose a tail. Josh peeked around the edge of the sign. In fact, he looked like a lost puppy dog. His eyes were big and sad and he looked like he was about to cry.
The fact that he came to this very public place and stopped at what appeared to be a designated spot, the fountain, went a long way toward confirming what Josh suspected. He was there for a rendezvous, and it had to be with Valeria. She was probably the one who suggested this location, in order to protect herself. Josh looked around, inspecting the hidden spots in the park. She was probably there somewhere, watching Kurchenko’s arrival to see if he was followed.
Josh’s hopes sank. He had been desperate to keep up with Kurchenko in the crowd and didn’t have the luxury to make himself inconspicuous. It was likely Valeria spotted him and walked away. Once again he underestimated her. Josh clenched his fists. She was turning out to be a better spy than him. If he ever got his hands on her again he was going to tie her up and drag her back to Washington in a bag and leave her in the hands of the experts. To hell with her. Let them do with her what they wanted. The sooner he got her back to the States, the sooner she would be somebody else’s problem, not his.
At that moment, as if she was reading his thoughts, Valeria appeared. Josh saw her before Kurchenko, who had his back to her. In an instant, Josh was enchanted by her innocent beauty all over again. She looked vulnerable like a lost child, and he had the feeling that he wanted to hold her in his arms and protect her, except this time he recognized the emotion. It was something she brought out of people intentionally in order to use it against them, as she did so successfully with him. Josh was determined not to let it happen again.
Valeria walked toward Kurchenko, her eyes darting side to side. That was different. She was frightened.
Then she said something; Kurchenko’s name, Josh assumed; and Yuri turned around. For a few seconds they stood and looked at each other, then Valeria glanced around again, as if remembering Change of Heart
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she might be in danger. They spoke, moving about the fountain like two people who had just met, and did not make eye contact.
Josh wished he had one of Walt’s high tech microphone gadgets to hear what they were saying.
Kurchenko looked at Valeria, then looked away. He reached into his jacket pocket, took something out, and discreetly handed it to her. She slipped it into her pocket and looked around as if nothing happened. Josh didn’t have to guess what they exchanged.
Most likely it was a passport and money for a plane ticket.
Valeria and Kurchenko stood facing each other. Josh wondered what they were doing. Valeria was a good spy. He didn’t think she would put herself in further danger by risking senti-mentality. Then, to his surprise, they put their arms around each other and kissed. Josh’s eyebrows rose. That would explain why Kurchenko didn’t behave like an operative.
After the long kiss, they separated, turned away from each other, and walked in opposite directions. Kurchenko walked past Josh’s hiding place without seeing him behind the sign. Josh stepped out and went after Valeria.
She was much more difficult to follow than Kurchenko. At irregular intervals she stopped to look at something and give herself the chance to see if she was being followed. She chose places well. Everywhere she stopped and looked back was a place where Josh found himself in the open. Once he was able to drop to his knees and pretend to tie his shoes and be hidden by the crowd. He stayed well behind her to make sure he was always near something to hide himself.
When Valeria reached the sidewalk along the road that en-circled the park, she stopped less often and walked more rapidly.
She appeared to have a destination in mind. A car pulled up alongside Josh. It was Mariko. He waved her past.
Valeria crossed the street. Josh stayed on the near side, watching to see where she went. He knew if he tried to cross too soon she would see him. Along the other side of the street was a row of restaurants. Valeria went to the front door of one. With her hand on the doorknob, she turned and scanned the crowd on the 220
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street. Josh stood behind a phone booth where he could stay out of her sight and still see her. Valeria pulled the door open and went in.
Josh dashed across the street, avoiding a couple of cars, ran to the door and pulled it open. She might try to lose him out the back. He couldn’t let that happen.
Inside the
first door was a small foyer and a second door with a diamond shaped window at eye level. Josh stopped and stepped off to the right, out of view of the window. Valeria was right on the other side, speaking with the hostess, who took a menu and led her away.
Josh was surprised to realize Valeria was actually going to get something to eat. She must have been terribly hungry. How long had it been since he ate? He remembered eating a cheeseburger sometime the night before, but that felt like a hundred years ago.
He was about to go in and confront her, but would they stay for dinner?
He went in. The hostess was on the other side of the room, talking to the patrons at another table. She had seated Valeria in a booth near the door. She was facing the door, but was looking down at the menu. Josh slipped into the booth across the table from her.
Valeria looked up. For an instant she looked to be in shock.
“Joshua,” she said with a demure smile. “How did you find me?”
Josh ignored the question. Her attempt to manipulate his emotions made him seethe with anger. She had become transpar-ent to him.
“Does he dance as well as he kisses?” Josh said, surprised at how vicious his own voice sounded.
Valeria’s cold eyes stared at him as if she was trying to decide how much he really knew. Josh stared back. Finally she looked away.
“Yuri is an excellent dancer,” she said in an even voice. “Almost as good as you.”
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Josh could tell she was trying to smooth over his anger. He wasn’t going to let that happen. He liked his anger too much at that moment.
“So tell me about this Yuri. You never mentioned him before.”
“He’s none of your business,” Valeria said.
“What did he give you?”
She looked surprised for a moment. “Nothing.” Josh sighed. “Come on. I know he gave you some money.
That’s why you came here. I’m guessing he also gave you a fake passport.”
“And a plane ticket,” Valeria said.
She took them out of her pocket. Josh held his hand out.
“Hand it over. You’re gonna have to miss that flight.” The hostess stopped at their table. She was a tall, skinny woman with a pleasant smile. Her long, black hair was tied up on her head and she wore a black pant suit.
“Would you like to see a menu?” she said in good English with a smile.
“No, thanks. We were just leaving.” Josh started to get up, but Valeria remained in her seat.
“Would you call the police? This man is harassing me,” Valeria said.
Josh stared at her.
“The police?” the hostess said, looking very distressed.
“Yes, the police, and right away. This man won’t leave me alone.”
Josh settled back in the seat. The hostess looked at him with suspicion. He smiled at her.
“Yes, call the police, and ask for Detective Hidaka.”
“Hidaka,” the hostess repeated.
Valeria glared at Josh. Fury burned in her eyes.
“Never mind,” she snapped, scooping up the items on the table. “We were just leaving.”
Mariko was waiting in the car at the curb on the opposite side of the street when they came out of the restaurant. Josh wasn’t 222
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sure how she saw them go into the restaurant, but he was glad to see her waiting.
The ceremonies were coming to an end. Much of the crowd was moving away from the park. Josh and Valeria had to wait on the step outside the restaurant door for room to move across the sidewalk.
Josh pointed to Mariko’s car.
“That’s our ride.”
They waded into the crowd to get to the edge of the curb. Josh excused himself as he pushed past a tourist smoking a cigarette.
Again, there was something oddly familiar about the smell.
Mariko saw them and got out to open the car door. They reached the edge of the curb and Valeria stopped. Josh could feel the muscles in her arm tighten.
“What is it?” Josh said.
She was looking across the street, but not at Mariko.
“That man. He’s one of Mironov’s.” Josh scanned the opposite sidewalk. On the other side of the street were a few men who might have been tourists or Russian agents. Only one man, though, was looking right at them. He was the plainest, most nondescript person Josh had ever seen.
He had to admire that. Indistinctness was a valuable quality to an intelligence agent.
Then Josh remembered where he had smelled those strong cigarettes before. They smelled like Mironov’s. He spun around.
The man he had just passed was taking the long Russian cigarette out of his mouth with his left hand and reaching under his jacket with his right. Josh reached for his Smith & Wesson in the shoulder holster under his right arm, but it wasn’t there. He vowed never again to leave it behind, no matter where he went.
The man was only a few feet away. He had sandy blonde hair, a round face and round features, and was wearing a blue polyester shirt under a tan polyester sport suit. Josh shoved between two people toward the Russian agent. He got one hand around the agent’s right wrist and slugged him in the mouth. The Russian’s head snapped back and he crumpled to the sidewalk. Josh heard Change of Heart
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several screams from the crowd.
He turned back to Valeria. She was still standing at the curb.
“Let’s get the hell out of here,” he shouted.
Mariko was already back in the car coming across the one way street to their side, cutting off several other cars. The car screeched to a halt a foot from the curb, angling across two lanes.
The people she just cut off honked at her.
Josh yanked the back door open and shoved Valeria in.
“Get her to the Embassy,” Josh shouted, and slammed the door.
Mariko stood on the gas. The tires squealed and the car swung back into traffic. Josh looked across at the plain agent, standing like his counterpart across a life size chessboard. The plain agent had a counter move. He looked at the row of cars parked along his side of the street and waved.
A blue Toyota pulled out of the line and raced past. Two men sat in the front seat. It caught up to Mariko’s car as she slowed for the turn at the intersection, and rammed into the rear corner, sending Mariko’s car spinning into the center of the intersection.
The sound of screeching tires sent chills through Josh’s body.
One car slammed into the side of Mariko’s car, sending it skidding into another car, then a second car slammed into the back of the first. The dull thuds and crunching noises made Josh sick to his stomach.
He started to run to the accident to make sure Mariko and Valeria were all right, but someone screamed behind him. He remembered the Russian agent in the cheap polyester suit and turned around. He was rising to his feet with his pistol in his hand, a Russian made Makarov 9mm.
A very nasty gun, Josh recalled. To be this bold in public was unusual for agents. They must have been as desperate as him to pull off this mission.
“You have interfered enough, McGowan,” the agent said in Russian with his teeth clenched.
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stepped forward, swinging his right arm across his body. His hand slapped down on the Russian’s extended arm, knocking the gun from his grip. Josh followed it with another blow to the man’s jaw with his left. The Russian anticipated the blow and rolled with it. The crowd of people on the sidewalk parted when they saw the gun and formed a perimeter like a boxing ring.
Josh reached down and picked up the Makarov. As he raised it, he saw the Russian had already rolled to his feet and, from a crouching position, had his arm back like a baseball pitcher. With a quick move he flung his arm forward and Josh caught a glint of something coming toward him. He turned his body only a fraction and a small knife sunk into his
right arm, just above the elbow. The point of the blade stuck into his humorous bone like a nail into wood. Searing pain shot through Josh’s arm, blinding him, and he staggered backward.
The Russian took another throwing knife and cocked his arm back. The second knife sunk into Josh’s right side, just below his kidney, and he arched his back in pain. The last thing he wanted was to die in the street full of knives like a pincushion. He raised the gun and fired and hit the Russian in the right shoulder.
He dropped the knife he was about to throw and was knocked backward against the wall of the restaurant. The powerful pistol kicked in Josh’s hand and the sound was deafening. The people around him screamed.
The Russian got to his feet with another knife. Josh was impressed. For a slight guy he was pretty tough. He squeezed off a second shot into the center of the Russian’s blue polyester shirt.
The shot lifted him off his feet and flung him backward into the wall under a small fountain of blood that seemed to hang in the air for a second before splattering on the pavement.
Josh turned around. His heart was pounding as he pulled the knives from his arm and back. The sensation of killing and the sight of blood made him feel powerful again. To him, killing was a rush, especially if he was killing them before they could kill him.
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and he was the only one who could protect them now. The plain agent was no longer across the street, but had gone to the accident scene with the two men in the blue Toyota, holding off a mob of angry drivers with their guns. The sound of police sirens echoed off the sides of the buildings and grew louder. The three Russians were trying to get the side door of Mariko’s car open. Josh could see her slumped over the steering wheel, not moving.
“Get away from the car!” Josh shouted in Russian as he pushed through the people.
They blocked his line of fire. He was not willing to risk hurting them to shoot the Russians. The plainly dressed agent, however, had no such qualms. He lowered his Makarov at Josh and fired.
Josh dove behind a parked car.
The shooting started a panic among the people who stopped to see the action. To get away from the new danger they all ran in different directions, screaming and shouting in fear, pushing and shoving and knocking people down to get out of the way of the bullets.
