Maddy sank into one of the remaining seats, feeling the boat swaying beneath her. Some of the younger men were exchanging forced jokes in Russian, but most had fallen into an exhausted silence. Across from her, Elena was seated next to the oligarch’s wife and daughter. Among the others were two members of the design team. Rahim was not among them.
As the remaining passengers climbed on board, Maddy helped the woman next to her with her safety belt, then fastened her own. Through the open hatch, she watched as the deckhand removed the pins and charge cable. After releasing the remaining grips, he got inside and secured the hatch behind him.
Climbing behind the aft console, the deckhand opened the vents, confirmed that all was clear, and instructed the passengers to remain in their seats as he lowered the boat. As the davit swung them over the water, Maddy tried to give Nina a reassuring smile, but the girl did not smile back.
The boat began to descend, moving in fits and starts as the deckhand worked the brake release, the passengers clutching their seats whenever the ropes gave way with another jolt. From where she was seated, Maddy could not see the view outside, and she was surprised a second later by the impact as they fell the last few feet and hit the water with a splash.
As the boat rocked on the swells against the side of the yacht, the deckhand allowed the lifeboat to settle, then released the falls. He started the engine and undid the painter that connected the boat with the deck above. Finally, he sat down, muttered something into the radio, and began moving away from the ship.
Maddy exhaled, the accumulated tension draining out of her body. She leaned forward in her seat, trying to look out the window. For a second, she could see nothing except the black glass of the surrounding waves. Then the view outside stabilized and she saw the lights of the city.
The ride to shore took ten minutes. As they drew closer, Maddy could make out the glow of the passenger terminal, a long steepled building with a red roof that ran along the concrete quay. A rescue crew was already lined up at the marina. Taking the lifeboat in, the deckhand maneuvered it around at a crawl until its hatch was parallel to the nearest berth. As he shifted into neutral, the team came forward to tie up the boat. Then the deckhand cut the engine and opened the side hatch.
Maddy was one of the first to leave. As she was helped onto the quay by a pair of rescue workers, she blinked at the lights of the emergency vehicles. A crowd had gathered to watch the excitement, kept back by policemen and barricades. It struck her for the first time that she was in Russia.
At her side, a volunteer said a few words she didn’t understand and held out a rescue blanket. Maddy took it, handing over her life vest in exchange, and draped it over her shoulders like a shawl. Another woman offered her a paper cup of tea, which she almost declined. Then she thought better of it and took two.
A line of survivors had gathered along the water, ignoring the buses that were idling nearby. Maddy went to Elena, who was standing by herself, and handed her a cup of tea, which the assistant accepted without a word. As Maddy took a sip, she heard the sound of rotors overhead, glancing up as a pair of rescue helicopters flew by and continued toward the yacht.
The passengers stood in silence, looking out at the wreck a mile away. It floated at a strange angle, like a great animal on the verge of sleep, lit by its own emergency lights and by the rescue boats holding station on all sides. In the distance burned the shadow boat, its hull fringed with flame, carrying a wreath of bright water around it as it drifted out to sea.
Hearing a murmur of interest, Maddy saw a second lifeboat approaching. As it disgorged its passengers one by one, she kept an eye on the hatch. She recognized all of the faces, including the executives from Argo, but none of the ones she wanted most desperately to see. Once the last survivor had emerged, Maddy felt her fears, which had faded briefly, return in a sickening rush. If Tarkovsky had been in his suite when the drone crashed, he would have been killed at once.
As she considered the full extent of the betrayal, it hit her for the first time that they had no way of knowing if she had survived. Her phone had been lost in the initial attack. As far as they knew, she was one of the missing.
Which meant that she was free. She could just walk away. And they could do nothing to stop her—
Even as she felt herself seized by this thought, a voice spoke up at her side. “Maddy?”
Maddy turned. Standing a few yards away was a young, attractive woman with short dark hair, dressed in a light jacket and jeans. Around her neck hung a lanyard with a laminated badge. “Yes?”
The woman smiled with what seemed to be genuine relief. “Thank God you made it.” She took a step forward, then glanced around the scene. “This area isn’t secure. Will you come with me?”
Maddy detached herself from the others, who were still looking out at the water. As she came closer, she saw that the badge around the woman’s neck had a curious emblem, the image of a panther leaping across the globe. She had seen this insignia before. “Who are you?”
“I work with Rachel Wolfe.” The woman motioned for Maddy to follow, heading for the barricades at the far end of the port. “She asked me to bring you somewhere safe. My name is Maya Asthana.”
54
Wolfe’s command of Russian had never been strong, shaped as it was by a few semesters of night school, but it served her well enough when necessary. Going up to the security line at the harbor, she approached the youngest man in sight and showed him her badge. “I’m an agent with the Serious Organised Crime Agency in London,” Wolfe said in passable Russian. “I need you to let me through.”
The officer hesitated. He had the smudge of a goatee on his chin and seemed out of his element as he stood by the barricade, keeping back the line of onlookers. “I’m sorry, but my orders—”
“I have my orders as well,” Wolfe shot back. “There were British and American nationals on that ship. If you have a problem with this, take it up with my office. But I need to see your incident commander. Where is he?”
As she spoke, she handed him a card with the number of the office in Vauxhall. The officer studied it uncertainly, then glanced down at her badge. Something in her air of impatience overcame what resistance remained, and he stood aside. “Command center is in the passenger terminal. You can check in there.”
“Thank you,” Wolfe said, moving past the barricade. She continued toward the terminal building on the harbor until she was safely out of sight, then turned and headed for the quay.
Within minutes of leaving her message for Maddy, she had been on the way to the airport, her every instinct screaming for her to get to Sochi. In the end, she had lucked out and managed to grab the last seat on the next plane to Moscow, racing from there to a connecting flight. All told, she had spent six hours in the air, and while they were not quite the longest of her life, they were close enough that she was very glad to be on the ground again.
Now it was close to midnight, and despite the late hour, the harbor remained crowded with rescue workers, volunteers, and gawkers. A hotel had been opened to house the survivors, but as she neared the water, Wolfe saw that many of them still stood on the quay, their blankets reflecting the light like gold leaf.
Drawing closer to the largest group of passengers, Wolfe saw no sign of Maddy. A second later, she noticed a face that she recognized from the newspapers. It was Ludmilla, Tarkovsky’s wife, standing slightly apart from the others, along with her daughter, Nina.
Wolfe quickly weighed her options and saw that she had no choice but to jump in. Going up to the oligarch’s wife, who was looking out toward the wreck, she raised her badge and said in Russian, “I’m sorry, but I was wondering if I could speak to you for a moment.”
Ludmilla turned slowly to face her. Taking in the badge, she looked up and replied in English. “What do you want?”
Wolfe identified herself and said, “I’m looking for a guest who was on this
ship. Her name is Maddy Blume. Have you seen her?”
Tarkovsky’s wife did not respond at once. In her eyes, Wolfe saw a clouded quality that made her think that the other woman was not altogether there. “Do you have news of my husband?”
Wolfe shook her head. “I’m sorry. If you like, I can see what else I can find—”
Ludmilla turned away. “Leave us alone. I don’t want to answer your questions.”
Wolfe saw that there was no point in pressing further. She was about to leave, hoping to find someone else who had been keeping track of the survivors, when the girl spoke up at her mother’s side. “I saw her.”
Ludmilla glanced down at her daughter. “Nina, please. You don’t need to talk—”
“But I did see her.” Nina pulled away from her mother’s arms. “We were on the same boat. We all left the ship together.”
Looking at the girl’s mother, Wolfe sensed that she had a limited window of opportunity here. “Do you know where she is now?”
“I saw her leave with another lady.” Nina pointed to Wolfe’s identification. “She was pretty. And she had a badge like yours.”
Wolfe felt as if the ground itself had listed beneath her feet, and a sick dread began to spread through her body. She was about to ask for more information when she felt a spidery hand come down on her right shoulder.
She turned. Standing behind her was a tall police officer in plainclothes, with the kind of cold sparkle in his eyes that she was convinced such men practiced each night in the mirror. “Excuse me,” the officer said in excellent English. “My name is Boris Suslov. I am a lieutenant with the Department of Internal Affairs. Would you kindly come with me?”
Over his shoulder, Wolfe saw the officer she had encountered on her way in, along with two others. “What’s this about?”
“Please,” Suslov said, speaking with the pointed patience of a responsible man with a great deal on his mind. “We merely wish to see if there is any way in which we can assist your inquiries.”
Wolfe saw that Ludmilla and her daughter had withdrawn, returning to the main body of survivors. She spent a fraction of a second considering the situation and finally concluded that there was no graceful way out.
Without looking back at the faces by the water, Wolfe followed Suslov as he headed for the terminal, the officers walking a step behind. “We’ve set up a temporary command center,” Suslov said, moving at a brisk pace. “It is customary for all foreign law enforcement to check in there.”
“I must have gotten turned around,” Wolfe said. “Has anyone on my end signed in?”
Suslov favored her with a thin smile. “I would have expected you to be aware of your own agency’s activities. Why exactly are you here?”
Wolfe saw that no additional information was likely to be forthcoming. “There were American and British citizens on that ship. I’m here to make sure they aren’t in danger and to get a sense of the situation.”
“The situation is clear,” Suslov said, approaching the main entrance of the passenger terminal. “This was an act of vicious terrorism, designed to assassinate one of Russia’s most respected private businessmen, as well as to cast doubt on this city’s security in advance of the games.”
As they entered the terminal, Wolfe sensed that Suslov’s anger was genuine enough. Sochi was scheduled to host the Winter Olympics in just over two years, and the government had made a massive investment in security and infrastructure. “What has the law enforcement response been so far?”
Suslov continued past the marble pillars into the terminal lobby. From somewhere up ahead, Wolfe heard ringing phones, although the command center itself remained out of sight. “Officers have been called in from throughout the region. We are pursuing all leads with every available resource.”
As two of the officers remained behind, they climbed a flight of stairs to the landing, the sounds of the command center falling away. Going to a closed door, Suslov waited as the last officer came forward to unlock it, then turned on the lights and stood aside. “Here we are.”
Wolfe went in and saw at once that the office was empty except for a desk, a television mounted to the ceiling, and a map of Sochi tacked to the far wall. She turned back. “What’s this?”
Suslov was still in the hallway. “We’ll have someone to see you in a moment.”
With that, he closed the door in her face. Through the frosted glass, Wolfe saw him speak briefly with the officer, who remained where he was, before heading down the corridor again. She understood, too late, that she had been shunted unceremoniously to one side. Going to the door, she was about to demand to be let out when she realized that she needed somewhere to go first.
After a moment’s thought, she went to the television set and turned it on. All of the local channels were devoted to ongoing coverage of the disaster. She cranked the volume up high enough to discourage anyone who might be listening, then pulled out her cell phone.
Powell answered before the second ring. “Tell me you’ve already found her.”
Wolfe looked at the footage of the burning shadow boat on the news. “No. I’m being given the runaround. The terrorism narrative is already locking into place, and anything I share with the police here will end up with state security. Any word from the embassies yet?”
“I’m working on it,” Powell said. “Our best chance is the embassy in Tbilisi. They’re closer than St. Petersburg, but they won’t be able to get a team there for at least three or four hours.”
“That won’t work. I’ll need to do this on my own.” Wolfe paused. “Alan, she’s here.”
Powell didn’t need to be told what she meant, or what the implications might be. “And you think she has Maddy.”
“Yes. So I need you to get me some information.” Wolfe went over to the map of the city on the wall, searching for the port where she was now. “I’ve been thinking about that drone attack. In theory, you can fly it from anywhere, but they’d want to stay off the satellite networks. Which means—”
“—it must have been controlled from nearby,” Powell said, jumping to the next point at once. “What are you thinking?”
“It would have to be line of sight, which means on the water. And somewhere with privacy and space. A drone big enough for three rockets would need room for takeoff, maybe even a pneumatic launcher. This wasn’t a backyard operation.” Wolfe’s eyes flew across the map. “South of the port is all commercial. It would be somewhere to the north. A dacha with all the necessary security in place. There can’t be that many that fit the bill.”
“Give me ten minutes,” Powell said. “I’ll send whatever I find to your phone.”
“Thanks.” Wolfe hung up. Checking the drawers of the desk, she found a recent street atlas, which she took. Then she switched off the television, opened the office door, and stepped out into the hallway.
The officer standing by the door looked at her in surprise. “Where are you going?”
“I have everything I need, thanks,” Wolfe said in Russian, already moving toward the landing. A second later, she was heading downstairs to the night beyond, and she did not turn around as the officer called her name.
55
Half an hour earlier, as they headed for the parking lot south of the harbor, Asthana had removed her jacket and handed it to Maddy. “Here, take this. And give me that blanket. We don’t want to attract attention.”
Maddy unwound the sheet from her shoulders and took the jacket in exchange. “What are we worried about?”
Asthana balled up the blanket and shoved it into the nearest wastebin without breaking stride. “We don’t want to run into the politsiya. I don’t have any jurisdiction in this city, and I’m not exactly here in an official capacity.”
As they continued toward the secluded space where she had parked, Asthana noted that while security was tight at the port, it slackened considerably a
way from the water. This was lucky, because a great deal of what she had just said was true. She was acting on her own initiative here, and she didn’t yet know how it would play at the dacha. “How are you feeling?”
“I hit my head on the yacht, but I’m fine,” Maddy said. “What are you doing here if you aren’t here officially?”
“Consulting on another case,” Asthana replied. “A lot of back-and-forth in advance of the London games. Wolfe caught me at the office this afternoon, just after she called you. I’m the only other officer here.”
They arrived at the car. Asthana unlocked it with her key fob and was about to slide behind the wheel when she saw Maddy hesitating at the passenger’s side. “Is something wrong?”
Maddy looked at her across the roof of the car. “Where exactly are we going?”
“A safe house,” Asthana said. “We need to sit tight until we can get you to the consulate, and it’s a long drive to St. Petersburg. In the meantime, we need to keep away from the police. Otherwise, you’ll end up in a back room at the Department of Internal Affairs, and that isn’t where you want to be.”
Asthana waited for her words to hit home. After a beat, Maddy opened the door and got in. Climbing inside, Asthana started the engine and backed out, keeping her headlights off. A moment later, they were heading for the service drive that ran parallel to the water, which she hoped would allow them to circle back to the main road without attracting attention.
Soon they were heading north toward the dacha. As Asthana drove, she felt in control of the situation at last. She had been weighing her options ever since it became clear that many of the passengers would survive. At first, she had feared that this would leave her with some undesirable loose ends, but she had finally seen that it could also be a source of leverage.
She glanced over at the woman in the front seat, who had fallen into an exhausted silence. Asthana had left the dacha an hour earlier, saying only that she wanted to keep an eye on the harbor. With luck, she could convince the others that Maddy was more useful alive than dead, at least for now. And if the situation changed, it would be easy enough to get rid of her.
Eternal Empire Page 27
