by Brian Drake
“Actually looks good on you,” Dane said.
“Our friends are looking for a brunette.”
“Isn’t everybody?”
They brought their carry-ons outside. Cars crowded the curbside loading area; buses spewed black exhaust into the sky. Nina stopped. “The Jag only has two seats.”
McConn shook his head. “You two… guess I’m taking a cab.”
Nina gave him the hotel address before she and Dane found the Jag in the crowded parking lot. She’d left the top up. Dane let her drive. He told her about The Trust and his father.
“I don’t know what to say.”
“Getting answers is priority one after we finish here, however it turns out.”
They rode on without speaking. Dane watched the passing scenery without really seeing it.
He had to forgive himself for running away, but he couldn’t.
“Tell me what you’re thinking, Steve.”
“Wondering why I ran,” he said. “I was afraid of doing something that would send me to prison, but I’ve taken bigger risks since then. I was just scared.”
“I don’t think that’s true.”
“Why?”
“You couldn’t have done then what you do now, because you hadn’t done any of it yet. You were young and used to following the rules. Understand?”
“All of this has been training for what I’ve needed to do all along?”
“I think you nailed it. And don’t forget that I had a hand in getting you to this point.” She smiled.
“What happens when it’s done? What happens when I clear my father’s name?”
“That’s up to you. There are plenty of people like your father and plenty of others who turn them into victims. I don’t have to tell you that. Plus, I think you like our lifestyle too much to give it up.”
“True. I guess.”
“You won’t quit. We won’t. Face it. This is the only way we feel alive.”
She parked underneath the hotel overhang, and they had to wait only a few minutes for McConn to knock on the door to their room. While Dane answered, Nina stepped into the bathroom to remove the wig. She emerged with her natural dark hair cascading along her back.
Dane said: “So you approached Trent and his daughter, and this fellow Ivanovitch came calling?”
“It means Trent told Arkady. Gave him my card. The man is paranoid. He probably thinks, based on Arkady’s influence, that the U.S. government sent Blaze.”
“And you were the next attempt,” McConn said.
“Can we trust the daughter not to freak out?” Dane asked. “If we can get her to take us to her father, when Arkady isn’t around, maybe we can make him understand what’s happening.”
“Our DHS IDs might help,” McConn said. “With the daughter, anyway. Proof of official authority.”
“If the Russians haven’t frightened her, too,” Dane said.
“I don’t think so,” said Nina. “Remember, she thought the interview was a good idea. I think she only knows what her father has told her.”
“And he’d want to shield her from the unpleasant stuff,” McConn said.
“We should intercept the daughter, like Nina wanted before Ivanovitch showed up,” Dane said.
“I did manage to follow her home. Why don’t we go over now?”
“Right. We’re running out of time.”
“I still can’t fit in the Jag,” McConn pointed out.
Luckily the hotel had a small Enterprise office, where they were able to secure a proper sedan, a Chevy Impala, in which McConn could sit as they drove to Colleen Trent’s apartment.
Traffic wasn’t bad, and Dane found a guest parking spot near the young woman’s building. A short elevator ride brought them to her door. Nina and McConn stood to the side as Dane knocked.
Colleen Trent answered. She wore pajamas with the Houston Texans’ logo on the front and had her hair tied back.
Dane introduced himself and let her see his DHS ID. It was coming in so handy, he might have to take back everything bad he’d ever said about federal employees.
“What is this about?” Colleen said.
“Your father and his deal with the Russians. He’s in danger.”
Concern flashed over her face as she opened the door. Dane introduced Nina and McConn, and Colleen’s eyes widened in recognition of Nina.
“You’re that reporter.”
“She’s with us,” Dane said. “Can we sit down? Won’t take long.”
Colleen led them into the living room, where she turned off the TV and cleared space on the couch. Dane sat closest to her. She watched them eagerly.
Dane pulled no punches in describing the conspiracy. Colleen began to slouch as he spoke.
“We found out about Hess today,” she said, “but they called it an accident.”
“It’s much worse than that. We were there. We failed to stop them and capture them.”
Colleen straightened. “How do we stop them this time?”
“Only you can get us to your father. Without Arkady around.”
“That’s not possible tonight.”
“Why?”
“Arkady is at the house with Dad. They’re messing with Dad’s train sets. Arkady loves those things. They’ll be up all night.”
“Tomorrow morning, then,” Dane said.
“The demonstration is tomorrow morning.”
Nina said, “That’s when they’ll strike.”
“What do we do?” Colleen said.
“When will your father arrive at the office?” Dane said.
“Probably seven a.m. Arkady won’t be there till noon. He insisted on noon.”
“Then we see him at seven a.m.,” Dane said.
“Meet me here,” Colleen said. “I’ll get you by the guards in front. Promise my father won’t get hurt?”
“I promise,” Dane said. “Only the ones who deserve it will get hurt.”
NINA TOOK the wheel of the Impala as they made their way back to the hotel. “I hope you can keep that promise, Steve,” she said.
“We have to,” Dane replied.
BACK AT the hotel, Dane drew an approximate map of Trent’s testing area while McConn brought up a satellite image of the Gulf of Mexico on his laptop.
“If that old man said Roxana Cavallos will be flying a helicopter,” McConn said, “and Arkady insisted on noon, I figure two to three hours flight time. That puts the ship near the coast by three at the latest. Do you know what kind of ship? There may be more than one in the gulf.”
“A cargo ship, most likely. They’ll need a deck big enough to land a chopper and a hold big enough for the weapon,” Dane said.
“It will have foreign markings,” Nina said, “but not necessarily Russian. We used to use French vessels for this sort of thing.”
“Why French?” McConn said.
“Easy paper trail and nobody argues with French ships. Everybody thinks the French are sissies.”
“What about the crew?” Dane said. “Even if they speak French, they’ll be armed.”
“We can’t let them get aboard,” McConn said. “We lose if that happens.”
“No, we call the cavalry,” Dane said.
“If those old men keep their word.”
“They will,” Dane said.
ALEXANDER ARKADY sat in the back corner of the bar at his hotel, the low light letting him blend with the shadows. He drank a cup of black coffee and stared at the big-screen television in a corner, reading the subtitles of the program.
He’d had a nice evening with Trent and his trains, and he almost regretted the action that would take place the next day. Or in several hours. It was after 1 a.m.
Arkady went to the bar for a refill and returned to the table.
The cell phone in his jacket pocket vibrated. He answered.
“Yes?”
“It’s Captain Sokolov.”
“Yes, Captain. Are you still on schedule?”
“We are ahead of schedule.
We are anchored outside U.S. waters.”
“How long will it take to reach the rendezvous point?”
“Two hours. We can move up the timetable if you’d like.”
Arkady tapped his lip and considered the idea. Cavallos and Roxana were ready; Trent’s weapon would be ready early. It would not be hard to accelerate things and cut down their exposure on the climax of the mission.
“Let’s do that,” Arkady said. “Be at the rendezvous at ten a.m.”
“We’ll be there. Good luck, comrade.”
Arkady hung up and smiled.
THE M-113, with the 680c mounted on top, rolled across the open field of Trent’s testing ground, approaching a target about 100 yards away. Another World War Two–era tank, fully intact, sat down range, awaiting pulverization.
The M-113 rocked side to side as it rolled over some rough potholes in the dirt, the slow trailing pickup full of engineers hitting the same bumps.
Blue sky above, clear. Bright sun. One of the engineers remarked that the sun and crisp morning air made it the perfect day for a demonstration.
THEODORE TRENT paced the floor of his office, nervous sweat dotting his forehead.
The potential for a signed deal with the Russians certainly excited him, but he tempered the thrill with his knowledge that the U.S. had twice tried to interfere and probably would again, either before or after the deal.
He had to maintain an air of confidence. He wiped his forehead with a handkerchief and—
The office door swung open. Trent turned in surprise. Arkady and Ivanovitch entered, both as stoic as ever. The big Cossack shut the door.
“Alexander.”
“We decided to show up early,” Arkady said. “The hotel was boring. I hope that isn’t a problem.”
“Of course not.” Trent actually welcomed the distraction. If he was focused on making Arkady happy, he wouldn’t think of the other problems.
“My car’s out front. We can go out and watch them set up at the test site.”
Trent picked up the desk phone.
It was 7:05 a.m.
COLLEEN DID her best but the traffic defeated her. She didn’t pull into the parking lot of Trent HQ until 7:15.
She slowed for the guard to see her, saying, “Is my father here?”
“Yes, those two Russians are here, too.”
“Thanks, Chris.”
Colleen drove through the open gate.
“Why are they early?” Dane said from the back.
“Don’t know.”
Colleen led Dane, Nina and McConn through the front lobby and down a hall to Trent’s office, where his secretary said he wasn’t alone.
Dane told McConn to wait with the receptionist. Just in case. The receptionist looked worried. Something wrong? Colleen told her all was well but to be ready to call security.
Colleen reached for her father’s door and went in, Dane and Nina following.
Trent and the Russians snapped their attention to Colleen and her companions.
“Dad, you can’t sell to these people.”
“What is the meaning of this?” Arkady said.
“Arkady is here to steal the 680c and frame us for blowing up Hess Laboratories.”
“That is insane,” Trent said.
Arkady and Ivanovitch fell silent, but there was a trace of a smile on Ivanovitch’s face as he looked at Nina.
“This man,” Colleen said, gesturing to Dane, “is from Homeland Security. He knows their whole plan.”
Arkady laughed. “The man is an imposter, and so is his companion. They are wanted criminals. Con artists.”
“Careful, Alexander,” Nina said. “Why would you know that?”
“Mr. Trent,” Dane said, “your daughter is telling the truth.”
“I don’t know who you are, but I want you out of my office. You too, Colleen.”
“But, Dad—”
“Not another word.”
Arkady said, “If I may have your attention.”
The Hawk leveled a pistol at Colleen Trent. She made a sound and stepped behind Dane.
“Alexander—”
“Quiet, Theo. In the heat of the moment, I did slip. Your daughter is indeed correct.”
The color drained from Trent’s face and he dropped into his desk chair. “I don’t understand. Does this mean—”
“I played you like a fiddle, yes. Now don’t get too comfortable.” Arkady gave Ivanovitch instructions in Russian. The big man went to Dane and relieved him of the Detonics Scoremaster. Nina handed over her Smith & Wesson. Ivanovitch held a gun in each hand and retook his spot beside Arkady.
Arkady holstered his gun. “I have a date with the test site. Ivanovitch will keep you all company for the next few minutes.”
“What happens then?” Dane said.
“You’ll see,” Arkady said. “Your arrival is quite lucky for me. We will much easier be able to sell the story we want with you two here.”
Arkady left and shut the door quietly behind him.
Ivanovitch backed up until he touched the wall.
Nina said, “Guess the knives didn’t work out?”
“Shut up.”
“Tell me something, big guy,” Dane said. “What’s Nina’s nickname?”
“Stephen!”
“Hey, if we’re gonna be shot, I want to go knowing what they called you.”
“It’s not important,” she said.
“Of course it is.”
“You do not need to know.”
“Why are you keeping secrets from me?”
“Enough!” Ivanovitch said. “We called her Nina the Bitch.”
Nina let out a sigh. “Here we go.”
“That’s all?” Dane said. “Really, that’s all? I could have told you that.”
Nina cursed in Russian. Ivanovitch laughed.
“This isn’t funny!” Colleen said. She crossed to her father. He stood and she put her arms around him. Trent pulled her close and his eyes pleaded with Dane.
“Relax,” Dane told them.
A knock on the door. “Pizza!”
“Somebody order a pie?” Dane said.
Another knock. “Ain’t got all day.”
Ivanovitch told Nina to move over to the desk. He told Dane to answer the door and stayed a little bit behind him, the Detonics .45 aimed at Dane’s back.
Dane opened the door and wedged his body into the opening.
“Yes?”
“Pizza delivery,” McConn said.
“We’re all lactose intolerant, wrong office.”
“The cheese is gluten-free.”
“I don’t think that means we can eat it.”
“Better make up your mind, here comes your pal.”
McConn handed Dane a gun. Dane turned and shot Ivanovitch in the left eye. The big Cossack landed hard on the floor.
“Took long enough,” Nina said.
Dane gave back McConn’s gun and helped himself to his .45 and returned the S&W to Nina. The receptionist entered, her wide eyes and open mouth matching Colleen’s. Trent breathed evenly as he took in the scene.
“Call the police,” Dane told her. To Trent: “Do you have a car?”
Trent stuttered at first but said, “Out front.”
“You two stay and coordinate with the cops. If anybody asks—”
“You’re on my security team.”
“Send them, too,” Dane said. “We’ll need the help.”
DANE, NINA and McConn piled into Trent’s company car, a Lincoln MKZ. Dane, at the wheel, screeched the tires around two corners, making his way onto the access road to the test field. When the tires hit the dirt, the car began bouncing along the path.
The M-113 awaited ahead, the dirt cloud kicked up by Arkady’s vehicle plainly visible as well.
“Todd,” Dane said, “how did Arkady not see you when he left?”
“The receptionist let me hide under her desk.”
ARKADY STOPPED his car a few feet from the M-113.
Two engineers at the 680c stopped performing their adjustments and watched Arkady.
“Where is Mr. Trent?” one said.
“Indisposed.” Arkady raised his gun and shot each man in the forehead.
He quick-stepped to the bunker as the other two engineers ran. Arkady shot the first man, the other tripping over the body to sprawl at the Hawk’s feet. The engineer started to rise; two rounds from Arkady’s pistol flattened him out again. This time he didn’t try to get up.
Arkady looked back at the rising dust cloud behind an approaching vehicle.
He grunted and spoke into a walkie-talkie taken from a pocket. The chopper was getting closer.
“We have unauthorized visitors,” Arkady said into the handheld unit.
“We see them,” said Roxana.
The chopper dipped to the right. The side door opened and Arkady saw Cavallos lean out with a machine gun.
“CHOPPER!” NINA shouted.
The Boeing CH-47 Chinook had twin rotors and the capability to lift 50,000 pounds. A formidable machine. The aircraft swung perpendicular to the Lincoln. Dane slammed the brakes. The first burst from the machine gun strafed the dirt in front of the MZK as it skidded to a stop. The chopper swung around in a circle. Dane floored the pedal and the car lurched forward, throwing all three back against their seats; Cavallos’s second burst spayed across the ground.
“We’re gonna run out of luck eventually,” McConn said.
Dane aimed the MKZ at Arkady. Less than 50 yards. Machine gun fire hammered next to the car, finally cutting across the hood. The Lincoln lurched again, this time forward with Dane, Nina and McConn straining against the seat belts, before stopping. The chopper flew on and turned back toward Arkady and the M-113. Dust and smoke swirled everywhere.
CAVALLOS AND Roxana had secured the CH-47 with a magnetic towline that lowered from the bottom. The magnet would hold the steel M-113 as long as it took to make the rendezvous with Captain Sokolov’s ship.
Cavallos watched the smoking car. More vehicles were converging on the test site from the main building, no doubt Trent’s security forces reacting to the arrival of the chopper. It certainly didn’t belong there.
Roxana worked the controls and maneuvered the helicopter over the M-113. She pulled a lever that lowered the towline at the same time as Cavallos released a rope ladder, which hit the ground first. The magnet stuck to the M-113 with a loud clang that Cavallos heard over the noise of the whipping twin rotors.