by Laura Scott
She picked up on his train of thought. “Russia designed the nuke, helped transport it into the US, specifically Washington, DC, to be used against us. Only they want to be sure North Korea gets the blame, not Russia.”
Natalia sucked in a harsh breath, and Sloan’s frown deepened. “And if they were successful, it’s a plan that would create World War III.”
“A war in which Russia would pretend to be our ally, until it was too late,” Sun finished. “It’s a crazy plan really.”
“But it could work,” Mack said.
Sun nodded slowly. “I’m afraid you’re right. And thinking back to the murder of my informant, his throat was slit in a way the Russian mafia tends to use as their calling card.” She swallowed hard. “Which would also explain why the assailants we’ve been dealing with don’t look Asian. In fact, I thought the last two guys looked like they were from Eastern Europe.”
“Russia,” Sloan repeated. “We may be able to help you with that.”
“I hope so,” Sun murmured. Factoring in the Russian connection only added to the complexity of their case.
Making her feel as if they were right back to square one in finding the nuclear bomb.
* * *
January 19 – 2:39 p.m. – Michigan City, IN
Jarek kept his hand cupped beneath Hana’s elbow as they made their way to the taxi station. The train ride had seemed to take forever, and he didn’t relish the thought of driving all the way to Washington, DC.
“Jarek, I think we should risk flying to DC,” Hana said in a low voice. “I don’t think we were followed to the train station, and the sooner we get to Sun the better.”
“You read my mind,” Jarek admitted. “The only problem is that Michigan City only has a couple of small airports for private prop planes. To get a flight to DC, we’ll need to get to South Bend, Indiana’s international airport.”
“And how far away is South Bend?”
“At least half an hour, maybe more with traffic.” Jarek ushered her toward the waiting taxi.
“I have plenty of cash,” Hana offered.
“I do too.” He held the door for her and climbed in after her. “Although I may not have enough for our plane tickets. I could use an ATM, but I am worried that will allow us to be tracked.”
“No ATM,” Hana agreed. “We cannot allow an electronic trail to be followed.”
“Will you take us to South Bend International Airport?” Jarek asked the driver.
“That’s pretty far,” the guy protested.
“We’ll make it worth your time,” he promised.
The driver reluctantly pulled onto the highway and then nodded. “Okay, but I’ll need to add an extra fee.”
“I understand.” Jarek sat back in the taxi, feeling safe for the first time in hours. For one thing, he felt certain they’d finally escaped the Asian tailing them.
But mostly it was because he was with Hana. It occurred to him that he would do anything for her, even uproot his life and follow her wherever she decided to live once the threat of danger was over.
And if the danger was always present? He’d live out the rest of the life God had provided to him and stay with her.
No way was he allowing Hana to leave him a second time.
Better to spend what little time he might have on earth with her than to live into his doting old age without her.
* * *
January 19 – 2:54 p.m. – Washington, DC
Mack couldn’t believe they hadn’t considered a possible Russian connection before now. Leaning forward, he reread the transcript through the new lens and felt certain they were onto something.
“These transcripts are transcribed in English,” he said, glancing back at the rest of the Security Specialists, Inc. team. “But I’m wondering if Chandler knew or suspected something about this bomb being potentially built and transported by Russia. It would explain why he was followed and murdered.”
“Highly likely,” Sloan said. He gestured to the computer. “Do you mind if I take a look?”
Mack pushed away from the desk to make room. “Have at it.”
“But why did the blond guy speak North Korean?” Sun asked.
Another good question. “I’m not sure, unless it’s part of the whole pretense of making this look as if the bomb was brought here and set off by North Korea. Maybe he’s setting someone up to take the fall. He did say: be on time or I’ll retaliate.”
“Be on time for the inauguration?” Sun frowned. “I think we’re missing something significant.”
Mack knew they were missing a lot.
There were several minutes of silence before Sloan spoke up. “There’s a reference here to the initials VVP.”
Mack stared at him. “What does that mean?”
“It’s a nickname for Vladimir Putin. His full name is Vladimir Vladimirovich Putin.”
“Interesting.” Mack hadn’t known that.
“Proof that we’re on the right track with the Russian connection,” Sun said. “Only I’m not sure how that helps us find the nuke.”
“The locals claim they didn’t find anyone at the location of the nine-one-one call,” Jordan said, rejoining them. “They’re not happy about the fact that everyone involved scattered.”
“We couldn’t stay, Jordan,” Sun said. “Fighting caused a scene, but not as much as if we’d used our guns. By the time the locals cleared us after finding our weapons, we’d have lost most of the day, and as it is, we still don’t have much to go on.”
“I understand,” Jordan said. “And the cameras being down are frustrating the cops as well. Although I did learn that one of the men dressed in black picked up the other and carried him off to a vehicle parked a few blocks away. At least, according to one of the witnesses, who also saw you and Mack heading to the hotel.”
“Great,” Mack muttered, thinking about their kiss. “I hope their descriptions were vague.”
“They were. I admitted that you were working on a case,” Jordan continued. “They’d like you to come in for a statement at some point.”
“How about after the presidential inauguration?” Sun suggested with a hint of sarcasm. “If we’re still alive to give an interview.”
“We’ll find a way to stop the nuke.” Mack refused to consider the alternative.
“Speaking of the nuke, any ideas on where to look?” Jordan asked.
Mack quickly filled Jordan in on the initials he’d found in one of the transcripts on Chandler’s computer.
“I know of two different taverns that are owned by Russians who may have some sort of inside information,” Sloan said slowly. “We could start there, but I have to warn you, these places are both total dives.”
Mack glanced at Sun. “I’m ready if you are.”
“I’ll stay here in the hotel room,” Jordan volunteered. “I’m going to ask Yates for an update on our search for a person named Allan. He hasn’t gotten back to me with information on Karen Allan, Allan Stokes, or Sean Allen.”
“We could use that information, but in the meantime, going to the tavern is better than sitting around here. Let’s go.” Sun pulled on her coat, then grimaced. “Hopefully no one notices the blood stains.”
“You’ll fit right in,” Natalia said in a light teasing tone. “Makes you look tough. Some of the Russians here in DC still have ties to the mob, although we’ve broken up two of the major rings over the past few months.”
Mack eyed her with interest. “Sounds like good work.”
Natalia flashed a smile. “Thanks. Sloan makes an excellent partner.”
“You’re going to make my head swell,” Sloan warned, then grinned and planted a quick kiss on her lips. “And ditto.”
Mack couldn’t imagine taking on a dangerous role while working with your spouse. But as he packed up the sat computer and looped the strap of the computer case over his shoulder, he realized that working with someone you cared about, the way he cared for Sun, was at the same time both easy and diffi
cult.
He admired Sun, knew she could hold her own, yet he wanted to wrap her in Kevlar and protect her. Was that how Sloan felt toward Natalia? Sloan looked as if he didn’t hesitate to walk into danger, but he had a hard time seeing his slender and pregnant wife doing the same thing.
Not his problem, he reminded himself as he and Sun followed Sloan and Natalia out to their respective SUVs. The difference with him and Sun was that they both were highly trained in martial arts as well as weapon handling.
And, of course, they weren’t married. They fought more often than he cared to admit.
A fact that did not deter him from longing for something more.
* * *
January 19 – 3:14 p.m. – South Bend, IN
Hana was surprised they’d made good time in getting to the South Bend International Airport. The taxi driver had tried chatting with them, but after the first stilted ten minutes, he had fallen silent.
She didn’t mind the quiet. It allowed her time to think and to keep a keen eye out for anything out of the ordinary.
From what she could tell, no one had followed them. Not to Michigan City, Indiana, or again to South Bend.
She and Jarek might actually be safe.
But they wouldn’t be once they arrived in Washington, DC. She knew from her recent trip to North Korea that things were heating up in Washington, DC, and they needed to get there. Soon.
Information she had yet to fully explain to Jarek. Not that it mattered at the moment.
Maybe once they were on the airplane heading to DC, there would be time to chat in private, if the plane wasn’t jam-packed. Not that there was an easy way to break the news.
They’d run from danger in Chicago but were likely heading directly back into the line of fire by going to DC.
She could only hope and pray they’d find Sun, before it was too late.
* * *
January 19 – 3:26 p.m. – Washington, DC
Sun glanced at Mack as he impatiently drummed his fingers against the dashboard. “The traffic won’t go faster just because you want it to.”
“I don’t know why I didn’t realize the traffic was as bad here as it is in New York.”
“I don’t know either,” Sun replied. “It’s not a secret.”
He grinned. “You always find a way to get in the last word, don’t you?”
“Another thing you should have figured out before now.” Sun hit the blinker, following Sloan’s SUV, which was truly no easy feat in the maze of cars she was navigating. Since she lived previously in LA, all traffic was the same to her. She never bothered to get annoyed with it.
What was the point?
“It’s interesting how Sloan and Natalia work together, isn’t it?”
She eyed him curiously, not the least bit fooled by his casual tone. “A better word might be insane.”
“Come on, really?”
She shrugged. “You should hear them sometimes. He’s constantly worried about her being in danger. Worse now that she’s pregnant.”
He looked surprised. “I didn’t get that impression.”
What was this all about anyway? She glanced at him. “That’s only because there wasn’t any reason for Sloan to be all paranoid while we were at the hotel. You’ll find out once we reach one of these—er—fine Russian-owned establishments. Mark my words, Sloan will be all over anyone who looks at Natalia sideways.”
“Have you been to either of these places before?” Mack asked.
“No.” Again, she had the impression Mack was fishing for something, but what? Her wrist throbbed in conjunction with the nagging headache, a gift from one of the blows the assailant had landed, and her eyes were gritty with lack of sleep. She wasn’t in the mood for playing games. “If you want to know something, just ask.”
“I’m good.” Mack peered out the window. “Looks like Sloan and Natalia are heading for the seedy side of town.”
“And that surprises you why?” She swallowed hard at the edge to her tone. “He warned us, remember?”
“Yeah, I know. It just looks worse than the place we found Hyun-woo.” Mack shifted uncomfortably in his seat. Clearly something was bugging him.
When Sloan pulled over to the side of the road, she followed suit. She got out and went up to check with him. “Is it okay to park here?”
“Hopefully it will be fine, we shouldn’t be here long,” Sloan answered. “It’s also still early in the day, so not sure how much info we’ll get out of anyone inside.”
“I’m sure happy hour has begun,” Sun said with a wry smile. “Can’t hurt to try.”
She was joined by Mack, and they followed Sloan and Natalia into the ramshackle structure with a broken sign that read Morris’s Place.
Mack hovered at her back as they crossed the threshold. The interior was dark and dingy thanks to the dirt-streaked windows and several broken lights. Sun could already tell that Sloan was in his protector mode, as he had his shoulders thrown back and was eyeing the crowd as if he was ready to rumble at the slightest provocation. And he kept Natalia close at his side.
Interestingly, she heard several low conversations in coarse Russian. She wasn’t as proficient as Natalia but understood enough to get the gist.
And the patrons of this place did not like seeing four strangers walk in, especially one of Asian descent. She heard a Russian slur aimed at her heritage but ignored it.
Mack heard it too, and he tensed as if preparing to join Sloan in a brawl. Why couldn’t men understand that fighting wasn’t the only way to obtain key information?
“What are you drinking?” the bartender asked in a heavy Russian accent.
“Vodka,” was Sloan’s surprising response. He laid a twenty-dollar bill on the bar, but when the bartender poured the shot, he didn’t reach for it. “Is Morris around?”
The bartender stared at him for a long moment. “Who wants to know?”
Sloan didn’t answer but returned his glare with one of his own. When he spoke, it was in Russian. “Morris knows me very well. You really want to risk interfering in our business?”
Sun was impressed, Sloan’s use of the Russian language had improved over the past few months. Likely Natalia’s influence.
The bartender slowly ambled to the door leading to a back room. While his head was turned, Sloan offered the shot to a man at the bar, who downed it in a hurry.
“Impressive,” Natalia drawled in a low husky voice. Then she, too, switched to Russian. “No one can hold their drink better than a Russian, no?”
There was a murmur amongst the patrons as they realized at least two of the four strangers spoke their native language. Sun decided to join the conversation in Russian as well. “Vodka tastes much better than soju.”
“How would you know? You don’t drink vodka,” Mack played along, also speaking Russian.
The group of bar patrons fell eerily silent, staring at them with wary respect, clearly wondering what sort of business they had with Morris.
A big bald Russian with tattoos covering almost every inch of skin came out to the main bar. The man she assumed must be Morris scowled at Sloan. “Why are you here?”
Sloan jerked his head toward the door. “We need to talk, outside.”
Morris let out a series of curse words in Russian but strode through his bar to the door. The four of them followed.
“I told you to never come here,” the bald man hissed. “Those men must respect me.”
“Don’t worry, Morris, we didn’t hurt your image,” Natalia said sweetly. “And we very much appreciate your time.”
The big man softened when he looked at Natalia. “When you decide to leave this lug of a husband, my door is always open for you.”
Sloan interrupted, “Morris, we need info about a Russian nuclear bomb being in the city.”
“I don’t know anything about that,” Morris protested. Sun thought it was interesting that he didn’t deny such a blatant accusation.
“I mean it.” Sloan lea
ned close. “I need to know where the nuke is.”
Morris glanced around furtively. “I hear things, but there’s no way of knowing if what men boast about over vodka is true.”
“What are they saying?” Sloan persisted.
He paused, then said, “The bomb is Russian but not the blame for setting it off.”
“Okay, I get that part, but where?” Sloan persisted. “We need to find it.”
Morris shrugged. “There is a Russian boat owned by Dimitri Palov. He may know.”
Sun felt a fission of anticipation ripple down her spine. Finally, a lead they could act upon!
Chapter Fifteen
January 19 – 3:48 p.m. – South Bend, IN
Jarek managed to secure two seats on the next flight to Washington, DC. The flight would take just over four hours, mostly because they’d have a short layover in Charlotte, North Carolina.
Ironic to realize most of the flights from the airport here in South Bend went through Chicago before heading onward to Washington, DC. He paid extra and added the hour in order to avoid going back to the city they’d just escaped from.
“The flight doesn’t leave for ninety minutes yet,” he told Hana. “Why don’t we get something to eat before we go through TSA security?” He’d been surprised when she’d instructed him to use a different name rather than Hana Yin-lee. She was now traveling under the name of Mi-Cha Kung.
“Of course, that sounds good.” She glanced around anxiously. “I’ll need to stop in the restroom first.”
Jarek smiled. “Me too. We’ll meet here in a few minutes.”
Hana disappeared into the women’s room while he made his own pit stop in the men’s room. Now that they were safe from harm, he wore a goofy smile on his face. If not for the circumstances of how they’d been forced to leave Chicago, he’d treat this upcoming trip like the vacation he and Hana never had.
He stood in the hallway waiting patiently for Hana to emerge. When she finally stepped out from the restroom alcove, he didn’t recognize her for a long moment. She’d covered her hair with a scarf, and her face looked rounder and seemed to have more wrinkles marring her beautiful skin than she had before.
