End Game (Jack Noble #12)

by L. T. Ryan

  She shook her head, said nothing.

  I leaned forward and put my hand on her shoulder. Softly, I said, “Maybe you knew more than you let on the other day.”

  She looked out Kozlov’s window. “We really shouldn’t get into that in here. I don’t know who’s listening. Could be Kozlov himself, pretending to be on a call to see what we’ll say while he’s gone.”

  She was right. I was getting antsy, and in my unsettled state had slipped up. I kept my focus on Kozlov from that point on. If he was faking the call he put on quite a performance. He was smart enough to stay out of range of the car. We couldn’t even pick up vocal inflections through the windows.

  The gas pump handle clanked when the tank reached full. Kozlov stared at it. He nodded a few times, then ended his call. A minute later we were back on the road, waiting in a left turn lane to get on the highway.

  “Where’re we headed?” I asked.

  Kozlov said nothing. He glanced in the rearview and shot me a look as if to say not another word.

  Not one to let another man ignore me, I persisted. “We’ve been riding for over an hour. I think it’s time to let us in on the big secret.”

  “You will find out when we get there,” he said.

  “That who you were on the phone with? The guy at the next stop?” I leaned forward, placed my forearm on the back of Lexi’s seat. “You had to update him on the guest list. Right? Tell me, somewhere along the way did you snap a photo or two of me and my associate here?”

  He glanced at me twice, quickly, but said nothing. There was a slight uncertainty in his look.

  “Anything come back yet? I figure an hour is enough time for whoever you got inside the Bureau or the Agency to do their dirty work. Or perhaps you went back to your old source, and asked an old friend at the KGB to check us out.”

  Kozlov shook his head. “You don’t know what you speak of.”

  “That’s right,” I said. “People in the KGB don’t have friends. At least not once they defect.”

  He adjusted his grip on the steering wheel, cracking his knuckles as he did so. “I didn’t defect, you arrogant cocksucker.”

  “Then who was it there that helped you? Saveli Alyosha? Yakim Serafim? Borya Taras?” I paused a beat to let it sink in that I was well versed in my Russian counterparts. “I can keep going, you know.”

  Kozlov licked his lips, opened his mouth, thought better of responding. “Those names are common in Russia. You’re simply bullshitting like all filthy American assholes.”

  “Talk about true colors,” Bear said.

  Lexi intervened. “Look, we’ll all on the same team here.”

  “My ass,” Bear said.

  She shot him a look and he backed down. “For right now we are. We have a common goal, and fighting isn’t gonna solve anything.” She twisted in her seat and looked me in the eye. “Jack, you have to expect they would do their due diligence on you, especially considering I brought you in. They aren’t typically in the business of inviting federal agents over for dinner. Know what I mean?”

  I took a deep breath, settled back into my seat. “Fair enough. But, Kozlov, I’d love to know what you get back on me.”

  He smiled for a moment as he looked into the mirror. “I got everything, Mr. Noble.”

  38

  My mind raced with possibilities. I hadn’t expected that response from Kozlov. Who had he turned to for information? And what exactly had they told him? My history was long, convoluted, and depending on which file one accessed, full of lies. He might’ve been misled and told that I was a former Army Ranger, or a CIA operator who’d spent a decade in Africa. Hell, maybe both.

  But if he knew I was former SIS, we had a problem. The list of people with access to that information could be counted on one hand. Even among active agents, Frank Skinner was the only one who ever knew my last name. If Kozlov had garnered information related to my time there, that meant someone had betrayed me, or they had hacked one of the most sensitive databases in the US. Either way, it’d be a problem, and I’d have to find a way to alert Frank at once so he could begin damage control and start preparing for a recovery mission.

  Being a member of a highly secretive agency put me in a precarious position. I had intelligence that most never had access to, things people couldn’t imagine. There were people in a country like Russia who would love to sit me down for a talk. Kozlov could demand a million-dollar bounty, and he’d have a dozen foreign agencies engaged in a bidding war.

  I felt Bear’s stare weigh heavily on me. The same thoughts had to be racing through his mind as well. Though he was never in the SIS, he’d worked alongside me on multiple missions. And since I’d left, we’d contracted with Frank no fewer than a dozen times.

  “I see that sweat forming on your forehead.” Kozlov had a grin plastered on his face. His grip on the steering wheel was more relaxed now.

  I hadn’t noticed that I was sweating. Normally I kept my emotions in check, but this time they’d gotten away from me. I had to recover, flip the tables a bit.

  “You know a possible last name,” I said. “So what? The right facial recognition program could give you that. Probably spit out six or seven others, depending on whose database you queried. I’ve used plenty of aliases in countries around the globe. At least three in your motherland. Wanna ask me what I was doing there? You’d really get a kick out of it.”

  Kozlov’s smile diminished as his eyes narrowed. He kept them locked on mine. The wheels were turning. He was trying to decide if I was playing a game or not.

  One of the benefits of having been associated with an agency like the SIS was that a ton of misinformation had been placed on file. Chances were they had happened upon some of that. The public Jack Noble, which wasn’t easy to access, was nothing like the real one. There was some classified material, but nothing too damning.

  I had to hope that was all they found.

  “So give it to me, man.” I leaned forward so we were practically cheek to cheek. “What do you know about me?”

  The air in the SUV was thick and heavy. For several moments you only heard the sound of our collective breathing, fast and ragged. Kozlov gripped the wheel and hit the brake. Maybe it was an attempt to rattle me, throw me forward into the dash or something. I was prepared, though, with my feet and arms pressed against the front seats to brace myself.

  “That’s what I thought,” I said. “You ain’t got nothing. Next time you want to mess with someone, pick one of your countrymen. They fold under the slightest hint of pressure.”

  The following thirty minutes were silent and tense. I stared directly at Kozlov in the rearview. Every so often he glanced at me while checking the traffic behind us. I had expected he’d pull over somewhere, make a call. But he never did. He either felt strongly about the intel they’d gathered, or was too much of a coward to tell whoever we were going to see that they might be wrong about me.

  The highway signs for Madison appeared more frequently. Thirty miles out, twenty, fifteen, ten. It was no surprise when he exited the highway at the edge of town. We drove through the middle of the city. It was quiet tonight in contrast to when Lexi and I strolled home from dinner, only a few people out. The clouds stood out bright gray against the night sky. Kozlov lowered his window. I smelled snow on the way.

  He eased the SUV to the curb in front of a brick apartment building. A green canopy lined with Christmas lights covered the entrance. Either someone was too lazy to take them down or it was part of the decor.

  “Why are we here?” Lexi asked.

  Kozlov looked at her, yawned, said, “One of you get in the backseat. We’ve got a guest coming.”

  Bear reached for his seatbelt, but I cut him off.

  “I got it, man.” I threw a quick glance at the back of Kozlov’s head. “You stay right where you’re at.”

  I wanted him there in case something went down. Once he wrapped those thick arms around the Russian’s neck, the guy wouldn’t have a choice but to
do whatever we said. As things stood at the moment, there was no reason for Bear to do so. However, the game was always changing. Kozlov was about to introduce someone new to our circle. Who and why were the foremost questions in my mind.

  I was surprised when a woman stepped outside. The wind whipped her blonde hair to the side. She reached up and tucked back the strands covering her face. She had on a heavy green jacket with a fur-lined hood. She reached behind her and pulled it over the top of her head. She appeared to be mid-thirties and in pretty good shape.

  Kozlov pulled the keys from the ignition, got out and opened the rear passenger door. They were speaking in Russian. They didn’t stop to introduce the woman.

  She aimed her steel gray eyes at me. Her stare felt like knives penetrating my skull. She had the look of a killer bundled up in a five-foot-four distance runner’s body.

  We continued through town, turned north, and made our way into the countryside. I slid to the left and watched Lexi in the mirror until there was no light remaining. She stared ahead, no sign of recognition when we passed a street or a house. It was clear that it was no coincidence we ended up in Madison that night. But why had we left? Someone must’ve fed her false intelligence.

  Were we about to meet that someone?

  39

  A long narrow dirt driveway cut through a forest of tall thin pines that shaved down the cone of visibility the headlights provided. I leaned forward in between Bear and the unknown woman. She hadn’t said a word during the short drive. Neither had Kozlov. I figured we’d learn everyone’s role soon enough. No point in getting worked up over it now.

  We reached the end of the driveway and stopped in front of a wide red-brick ranch. The windows closest to the front door were lined with heavy drapes. Warm light filtered through the cracks. Every other room appeared darkened.

  Kozlov punched a few buttons on his phone, cut the ignition and headlights, and waited. Our breathing soon fogged up the windows. The porch light flicked on, and the front door opened a few seconds later, though no one appeared in the vacated space.

  “Let’s go.” Kozlov hopped down and trekked toward the house. The woman followed. That left the three of us still in the SUV.

  “He either trusts us,” Bear said. “Or the woods are full of his guys.”

  “Certainly not the former,” I said.

  “We’re on solid ground here, guys,” Lexi said. “Just don’t say anything stupid.”

  “Where are we?” I asked.

  She bit her bottom lip for a moment. A slipup perhaps. “I’m not sure, but it has to be someone Kozlov trusts. Come on.”

  “And just how much do we trust Kozlov?” Bear said.

  Lexi didn’t respond. She was halfway out of the SUV.

  We walked to the front steps. The woman was already inside. Kozlov stood in the opening, holding the screen door for us. Lexi entered first, followed by Bear and then me.

  Two lamps adorned end tables next to a long couch. They bathed the room in yellow light. A worn bearskin rug stretched across the floor. A heavy wrought iron and oak coffee table sat on it. On top of the table were a bottle of vodka and a bottle of whiskey and a tray holding six glasses along with a bucket of ice.

  “This a social encounter?” I said.

  Kozlov shook his head. “With all your experience, you never dealt with Russians? This is how we conduct business.”

  “What business are we conducting here?” I asked.

  “Jack.” Lexi shot me a look that said tone it down.

  I hadn’t even begun.

  A toilet flushed, a faucet cut on long enough to run a hand underneath. A door covered in the same wood paneling as the walls set in the back corner of the room opened and a silhouette appeared. He was over six foot tall and lean. His silver hair stood out as he stepped into the light. His face was hard as steel, not so much as a sagging jowl or a hint of double chin. I thought he looked familiar, but then I realized he looked like plenty of old servicemen I’d been introduced to since I was knee high to my dad. A few seconds later I recognized him from the photo at Gus’s. This guy had been through the wringer and back and probably advanced on that merit alone until he reached a point where he could make an impact. With which agency, I wondered. Kozlov brought us to him, so it wouldn’t be too much of a stretch to assume this guy was former KGB, too. But it could be dangerous to assume that without knowing all the facts.

  “Who do we have here?” He stared at Lexi.

  “This is the FBI agent I told you about,” Kozlov said. “She had an interest in Mr. Thanos, and was at his house the morning it was shot up.”

  “And these two gentlemen?” he asked.

  “I didn’t catch your name,” I said.

  Kozlov stepped forward. “That is not for you—”

  The older man cut Kozlov off mid-sentence. “You can call me Yashkin.”

  It wasn’t that he looked like a hundred old men I’d seen before, or even that he was the guy I didn’t recognize in the photo. I knew this man. “You sure you don’t want me to refer to you as General?”

  General Nika Yashkin was an intelligence officer who had risen to prominence during the Soviet-Afghan war. His unorthodox methods brought him notoriety. Ultimately, he was forced to resign for his actions in the early eighties, at least publicly. While his detractors believed he was carrying out an unofficial life sentence in Siberia, in truth he had been promoted to a position of power within the KGB, heading clandestine operations known as active measures from the mid-eighties through the early 2000s, when he went off the radar.

  “Have we met?” he asked me.

  “I’m fortunate enough to say that we haven’t, at least until today. Tell me, though, did you retire from that gig with the KGB? Or you still spreading disinformation throughout the world and aiding terrorists?”

  Out of the corner of my eye I could see Kozlov shifting in his stance. I hoped Bear was watching him because I couldn’t take my eyes off of Yashkin.

  The Russian looked around the room, first at the woman, then at Kozlov. “I’m sorry, I thought these people were brought here to help. Yet I feel as though I am being interrogated.”

  Lexi cut in. “Sir, please excuse my friend. He is also a member of an agency and is used to leading conversations in such a way. We are here to help, but in order to do so, we need to know a few things.”

  “Things such as whether I’m retired? What does my past have to do with anything? We need to put our minds together to determine a course of action to find Thanos.”

  Lexi glared at me for a moment. I knew she had a lot riding on this meeting, though I still wasn’t sure what we were about to uncover.

  “Mr. Noble,” Yashkin said. “Your past deeds in Russia while you were operating under the shield of the SIS did not go entirely unnoticed. I know a number of people from my former life who would very much appreciate the opportunity to meet you in person. You can see how I could make that a reality for them.”

  I inched my hand toward my pistol.

  “That won’t be necessary,” Yashkin said, gesturing toward my midsection. “You’ll have no need for your firearm here, and brandishing it will only get it removed, which will make it difficult for you to protect yourself later, should the need arise, of course.”

  I lifted my hand a few inches. “What are these threats about then?”

  “I simply wanted you to realize that we know all about you. You are not as untouchable as you once were when you were in the SIS.”

  Lexi looked at me. I could see the confusion on her face and watched it slowly turn to hurt. She’d believed I’d been operating as a government agent this whole time. I decided not to mention that I’d been reinstated. They might clam up if they knew.

  Yashkin continued. “And you are not as bulletproof as you believe you are now. There is a mountain of evidence that could implicate you in several dozen crimes, if only one knew where to look.”

  This wasn’t a meeting to determine what each of us knew in or
der to get Thanos back. It was an elaborate setup.

  They wanted me to do a job.

  40

  “What’s your angle here, Yashkin?”

  Yashkin stared at me, unblinking, for several seconds. Kozlov and the woman were watching him. How much had he told them? Were they simply muscle for the guy, or did he involve them in his decisions?

  I wanted to get a read on Lexi, but she was behind me. Turning to look at her would be a mistake at this juncture. I still couldn’t get past the fact that we had stayed in a motel only a few minutes away from this guy. She must have known he was here. Why not say anything about him then, and why leave town? If only I knew who was feeding her information.

  “I mean, come on,” I said. “You wouldn’t be pulling out all the stops here, threatening me, if you didn’t want something done. So spill. What is it?”

  Yashkin took a sip of his vodka. He rose, glass in hand, paced around the back of the couch. It was high-backed, hiding the man from the waist down. He lowered his free hand so it was out of sight, leaving me a little uneasy.

  “This Thanos situation,” he said, “has grown out of control. It was simple at first, our business with him. A deal here and there, real estate, land development, a way to get a foothold in the States for our company. Over time, Thanos was able to introduce us to new players. People in the government, law enforcement, federal agents.”

  “People who could turn a blind eye for the right fee,” I said.

  Yashkin slowly nodded. “You could say that. He also put me in touch with people who operate on the other side of the law.”

  Out of the corner of my eye I saw Lexi shift her stance. Was this how it all fit together? Had they met during her time in the DCO? For the first time, I began doubting the story of how she blew her cover.

  “Thanos was a good ally,” Yashkin said.

  “Was?” I said.

  Yashkin lifted his glass but didn’t take a drink. “The problem with a guy who straddles the law is that you never know which side of it he’s going to fall on during any given encounter.”