The round went straight through Pokorny. I should have used the Makarov instead of the CZ-52. He would be dead now.
He put the Makarov on the seat and drove out of the lot. He took his place in line behind Peter, but far back. Gustav was in no hurry. His “work” was best done under cover of darkness. He drove slowly, staying well behind Anne’s two-car caravan.
At the junction of Route 158 with Route 168, the caravan turned south. Gustav smiled. His task was simple now. This road was bordered by the Currituck Sound to the East, and a branch of the Albemarle Sound to the West. Anne Simek’s destination was the Outer Banks.
He fumbled in his shirt pocket for his Petra cigarettes. He lit a king-sized, inhaled deeply, and glanced at the Makarov on the seat.
This time Pokorny, you will die.
Gustav grimaced.
And you two, Simek and Zeleny, if you get in my way!
***
In Bethesda, Aileen Harris sat in the office of Ryan Associates. The phone rang and she answered.
“Ryan Associates.”
“Aileen, it’s me, Jeannine. I saw Larry Hodges this morning at the FDA. Then I went to the Israeli Embassy. I’m on my way back. Did you find Dr. Zeleny?”
“The Chicago Clinic still hasn’t heard from him. What did Hodges say? Will he recommend that the FDA reject the report?”
“He wants to approve Hus-Kinetika’s report, but the fake data have slowed him down. He’s stalling. He says he wants to talk to Zeleny again. We can’t depend on Hodges.”
Aileen hung up.
Damn it, Hodges, what will it take to make you listen?
She started. Someone was at the office door.
Who is it this late?
Aileen looked through the peephole. It was a man, unshaven with a grizzled beard. He spoke with an accent.
“Please, Dr. Harris, open the door. I need to talk to you. My son trusts you.”
“Who are you? What do you mean your son?”
“My son, Peter, ... Dr. Zeleny. I’m his father. My name is Johan. I know no one in your country. I just arrived, please.”
“All right, come in. But what does Peter want? He barely knows me.”
Johan entered. He smiled at Aileen.
“Peter thinks you are a smart, attractive, honest woman. I can confirm the ‘attractive’ part. Very nice.”
Aileen glared, but Johan continued.
“Peter called me. He wants to know if someone named ‘Pokorny’ called you, maybe talked about some papers he had?”
Aileen gauged the man before her. He was old and posed no physical threat. She could handle him.
“I’ve never heard of a Mr. Pokorny and I don’t know why Peter would think he would call me. Now you tell me how I can reach Peter. He needs to know that we can prove the Xolak data from Hus-Kinetika are fake.”
“Hus-Kinetika! Warped Capitalists. They ruin my country. And now they ruin my son!”
He took a seat, his left leg vibrating.
“They are fools, traitors, lackeys of Washington.”
He ranted on. Aileen stopped listening.
Mercifully, minutes later Jeannine returned to the office.
Together, they convinced Mr. Zeleny to go back to his motel. Aileen agreed to drive him.
***
The sun had disappeared in the West as Peter Zeleny drove after Anne Simek’s Ford Focus. He was confused. He was alone in North Carolina, a state new to him, and on a strange road following a woman he barely knew, a woman who had ruined his mentor’s career.
Why does Vaclav want to see me? Who shot him? Why? He works for Hus-Kinetika. What am I doing?
Peter’s father had always disparaged Anne’s father, Havel: He was a weakling, a traitor to socialism, an ingrate who had refused to accept correct ideas while detained by the State for his own good, a sneak who had fled his homeland.
His father’s views did not disturb Peter. They were archaic, and boring. The past was the past.
What disturbed Peter was not his father, but Anne. During their shared time at the Motol Teaching Hospital in Prague, he had seen her only on formal occasions. But at the diner in Elizabeth City, something changed. Sitting with Anne in the booth, he had found her most appealing, like Aileen Harris.
And like Aileen Harris, she had shown a marked distaste for Peter! He was used to being pursued, not disdained. And both these women had the upper hand on his feelings. Upset by two women in two days! And now blindly following one of them.
He shook himself.
Do I want to impress Anne Simek? Is that why I follow her?
Ahead of him, the red Focus grew smaller. Peter pressed the accelerator to catch up.
***
Dusk fell and Anne Simek turned on her headlights. Behind her, Peter Zeleny switched on the lights of his rental Accord. Anne memorized their spacing. Once in traffic she would need to know if the car behind her was Peter’s. In the distance, behind Peter, she spied a minivan. Its lights were on. They were more widely spaced than Peter’s. Anne mentally recorded that difference.
Once across the bridge to the Outer Banks, Route 158 runs into Route 12 at a right angle. To the north, Route 12 leads to Southern Shores, Duck and Corolla, to the south, Kitty Hawk and Nags Head. Anne turned south towards Nags Head. She had sequestered Vaclav at a bed and breakfast in Wanchese on the southern portion of Roanoke Island. To reach Vaclav she needed to go to Route 64 and cross the bridge to that island.
She looked in her mirror. The familiar lights of Peter’s Accord had turned after her. Minutes later, as she drove through Kitty Hawk, another set of lights appeared behind Peter’s.
Anne gasped. The pattern and spacing of the lights were those of the minivan that she had noted before.
Now Anne was truly disturbed. She wished she was back in Corolla, at peace, lost in her studies.
But her world had changed.
She relived that stormy night two days ago.
***
She awoke. A gun shot? Out on the deck.
She stepped outside. A hooded figure grappled with a man. Vaclav! He fell. The hooded man raised a gun.
No time! She rushed and shoved the shooter.
The gun flew away. The man toppled over the railing and landed head first. Stunned, he lay still.
She turned to Vaclav. All that blood. Help!
They stumbled down to his van.
She pushed him in and ran to the driver’s side.
The keys? There, in the ignition.
She drove on the flooded roadway. Sheets of water flowed down the windshield.
The van slid sideways into the sand. Stuck!
She grabbed Vaclav and pulled. He slid from the vehicle. She helped him to stand. They abandoned the van and, feet wet, splashed away on foot.
The rain and wind-borne sand stung and blinded them. They moved forward and stopped. Where? A gully, the beach!
Vaclav tripped into the channel that churned at the foot of the dunes.
She grabbed his jacket, but it ripped off. She stepped into the knee-deep water and pulled him out.
She led him through the dunes back to the road.
His weakened limbs gave out. He slumped to the ground. She could not lift him.
Her car was at the house. She ran back through the dunes. She stopped to scan the side of the house.
The attacker was gone.
She drove her Focus back, somehow not getting stuck.
Vaclav was as she had left him.
He sat up and she got him into the car. She headed for the hospital in Elizabeth City.
He protested, eyes filled with fear.
“No, no hospital, hide me.”
“But Vaclav?”
“No!”
She gave in and drove him to a place near Wanchese where they knew her. She hid him in the car and took the room.
He was incoherent as she guided him up the stairs and onto the bed. She bandaged him as best she could.
Finally his fever broke and
he asked for Peter Zeleny.
***
A nightmare? No, it was real.
Anne shook her thoughts back to the ever-following minivan with widely spaced lights.
I’ll be at the intersection with Highway 64 soon. I have to get rid of that van before then.
She could not let it see her turn towards Roanoke Island and Wanchese.
She shook with fear.
What am I doing?
***
******
Chapter 7
Friday, November 19
In Prague, the elaborate high-walled office featured an almond-colored stucco ceiling edged by stylized flowers across which plaster cherubim romped and cavorted. The decorative angels looked down on a ponderous walnut desk that made the man behind it appear powerful. That individual was ensconced in a stiffly padded chair. A well-tailored suit tightly configured a muscular frame. He had hair that was partially gray, but his torso exhibited a youthful vigor. An alert demeanor signaled a readiness to trade the chair’s cushioned comfort for action at a moment’s notice.
The man looked up as an attractive woman entered the room. Stylishly dressed in a trim suit, her spike heels accentuated her shapely bearing. She approached the desk.
“Sir, Gustav called. Vaclav survived. He is still alive.”
Karel Moravec frowned and peered over his reading glasses.
“And?”
“And Gustav says he will finish the matter within 24 hours.”
“And our documents?”
“Gustav is sure that Vaclav still has them.”
“If Gustav fails, Ivana, What then?”
Ivana stood slightly to the side to present her distinctively feminine profile to her superior. Straight blond hair, falling just off her shoulders, added to her classic good looks and well-formed figure. She had struck this pose before. Karel enjoyed this view.
“Sir, I did as you said. The backup team you wanted is in North Carolina. They will act should Gustav fail.”
“Good. They will be needed. Your Gustav failed once, and he will again. Ivana, I want you to learn from his failure.”
“Sir, you seem sure about Gustav. Why?”
“My life is to know people. You must learn from me. When I let you choose Gustav, I hoped he would succeed for your sake, but I had my doubts. You will learn from this episode. There are costs to unwise choices.”
“But if Gustav should succeed?”
Karel’s lips widened, almost a smile.
“He won’t, but either way we have no further use for him.”
Ivana stared out the window. Across the river, lights illuminated Prague’s landmark, the resplendent Hradčany Castle while the lamps on the Charles Bridge sent glowing streaks that shimmered in rippling reflections across the dark waters of the Vltava River. Ivana’s brow furrowed.
“Ivana, dear, do not be concerned. Trust me. I anticipated Gustav’s failure. That is why I had you arrange the backup team.”
He switched his address to the diminutive.
“Ivanka, we have nothing to fear. My backups will take care of Vaclav and the stolen records. They will eliminate Gustav too.”
Ivana’s eyes widened.
“But why kill Gustav?”
“Don’t you worry about that. I have decided. Now go, there is another matter I must attend to.”
He opened a folder on his desk. She turned for the door.
Karel looked up and smiled. Ivana from the rear was as pleasing as from the front. He called after her.
“Ivanka, tonight you and I shall dine ve starém městě, in the Old Town, at the Hotel Leonardo’s Platina Restaurant. Wear that outfit with the red silk scarf. It is quite appealing.”
Ivana did not respond. She opened the heavy door and left.
Karel watched her go. Then he scribbled notes on the pad in front of him.
***
It was not tourist season in coastal Carolina, so Jim Harrigan and Mila did not need reservations for the restaurant in Duck.
In fact, they had their choice of tables. Mila chose a booth with a view of Currituck Sound. The late afternoon sun, suspended well above the horizon, imparted a golden sheen to the marsh grass, while a gentle wind rippled the open stretches of water.
Mila studied the menu and ordered.
“The ‘crispy cornmeal-fried Carolina catfish’ please.”
She turned to Jim.
“What would you like?”
“I’ll just have coffee, thanks. I’m not hungry.”
“Jim, thanks for babysitting me. I don’t want to be alone. I don’t know what to think, about Anne or Vaclav. Anne must be OK since she came back for her computer.”
“Maybe, but if it was her why didn’t she wake you, and let you know she was all right.”
“She knows I deceived her about the meeting. If she had known it was Vaclav, she might have refused to meet him.”
“You know your cousin better than I do, but suppose she is with this Vaclav character, and suppose he was shot. Why not go to the hospital? There have been no reports of gunshot wounds locally. Where would she hide him?”
Mila’s eyes lit.
“Jim, that’s it!. There is a bed and breakfast that Anne uses. It’s in an isolated spot, near Wanchese.”
The waiter arrived with her catfish, but Mila had already jumped up.
“Can you box that for me. I’m sorry, but I have to leave.”
The waiter frowned. Jim Harrigan protested.
“But Mila?”
“No, Jim. Anne may be in Wanchese. I have to go now!”
“Then I’m coming with you.”
“Thanks, I hoped you’d say that.”
They took Mila’s Ford Escape. She drove south.
***
On Roanoke Island near Wanchese, Bordens’ bed and breakfast was a simple frame house isolated from its neighbors by mixed woods of pines, evergreen oaks, and other hardwoods. The dated structure sat at the end of a shaded lane whose surface was topped by layers of pine needles and dry live oak leaves.
The first level of the two-story house had a screened porch that projected out from the main structure. The branches of a nearby live oak tree provided easy access to the porch roof.
Vaclav Pokorny's room was on the second floor. It was furnished in quaint “country” style with an old-fashioned bed whose deep mattress accommodated awkwardly, but comfortably, any and all human forms. The room’s windows faced onto the porch roof. The attached private bathroom was modern. It was there that Anne Simek had dressed the wound in Vaclav’s shoulder. Various hues of red streaked the white marble of the sink and there was blood splatter on the floor tiles.
Vaclav lay on the bed, his forehead beaded by moisture. The room was hot and stuffy. He stared at the ceiling.
Anno, kde jste? ‘Anne, where are you?’ Why aren’t you back? Did you find Peter? I must tell him about the plan!
Exhausted, his eyes closed.
***
The gray Ford Excursion stopped at the end of the lane to the bed and breakfast. The driver sipped his coffee while the passenger slipped quietly out of the car.
Minutes passed. The driver looked up as his partner returned.
“He’s there all right. He’s stretched out on the bed, passed out. He’s in a bad way. The room is bare except for the bed and a dresser. I looked in the drawers. There’s no other place to hide the files. Pokorny is out cold and the owners are in the kitchen downstairs in the rear extension. They’re old. They won’t hear a thing. I could finish him now.”
“No. Our job is to get the files back to Mr. Moravec. Pokorny is helpless, so Simek would not have left them with him. She has them, and she’ll come back to help Vaclav.”
“So what now?”
“We wait.”
***
Their wait was not long. A white SUV, a Ford Escape, its interior lights on, turned down the lane to the bed and breakfast. The passenger appeared to study a map. The SUV disappeared around a bend mar
ked by the low branches of a Live Oak tree.
The driver of the Ford Excursion spoke first.
“Damn! Did you see that?”
“The SUV? Simek drives a red Focus.”
“No, damn it! The people in the SUV. That woman is Simek's cousin. Her name is Mila Patekova. She arranged Pokorny’s trip. The guy with her is that local cop who found Pokorny’s minivan.”
“He doesn’t know anything.”
The driver’s knuckles whitened on the steering wheel. He turned to his partner.
“Idiot, if he doesn’t know anything why is he here? Damn!”
***
Mila parked near the kitchen door of the bed and breakfast and knocked. A white-haired woman appeared.
“Mrs. Borden, I’m Mila Patekova, a realtor from Nags Head, May we come in?”
Mrs. Borden frowned and turned to Jim Harrigan.
“And who might you be?”
“I’m with the Duck Police Department. I know your son Tony. We worked together on a case last year.”
Mrs. Borden’s son was with the Manteo Police Department. She peered into Jim’s eyes.
“Have I met you?”
“No Ma’am, but I know his wife Louise, and little Anthony. He told me about his ‘Granny Katie.’”
At the mention of her grandson, Mrs. Borden unlatched the storm door, turned down the TV, and pointed to her coffee pot.
“Would you like some coffee? At my age, I have to be careful. My husband is asleep in the den. Have a seat.”
Jim took a cup. He and Mrs. Borden chatted while Mila sat silent. Hurry up, Jim. Get to the point. Ask her about Anne.
Finally. Mila was done waiting.
“Mrs. Borden, I’m sorry. I need to know if my cousin, Anne Simek, is staying here. She’s stayed with you before.”
Mrs. Borden did not like Mila’s accent, and she did not like her attitude. She turned to Jim. He spoke.
The Prague Plot: The Cold War Meets the Jihad (Jeannine Ryan Series Book 3) Page 5
