by Alex Lukeman
"Do you think we're your enemy?" Nick asked.
"You, personally? Not so much. Individuals can be friends. The goals of our two nations are opposed to each other. Any Russian will tell you America is afraid of Russia. Your country does everything it can to restrain us. That is the kind of behavior that creates enemies."
"What about Russian behavior?"
"I am not so blind that I do not see our own fault in this matter," Valentina said. "If that were not so, I would not be sitting here now."
Valentina, I would like to know why you chose to defect.
Valentina looked startled. It was the first time Nick had seen her composure rattled.
"What is that? What is that voice?"
Elizabeth stifled a laugh. "That was Freddie. He's an intelligent computer. He thinks independently. We consider him to be part of the team."
"I should talk to him?"
"He hears what you're saying. It takes a little getting used to, but imagine that he's sitting somewhere out of sight."
I am pleased to meet you, Valentina.
"Why do you want to know why I defected?"
I am by design curious. You are an unusual person. I am familiar with your file and your stated reasons for leaving Russia, but it does not give me a feeling for why you chose to do so.
"How can you understand feelings? You are a computer, no?"
I am attempting to understand human feelings in an effort to improve my interaction with humans.
"Go ahead and tell him," Selena said. "We'd all like to know."
"I am not sure I can put it into words."
I have noticed that humans often have trouble putting feelings into words.
"You can say that again," Valentina said.
I have noticed that humans often have trouble putting feelings into words.
Selena laughed. "You have to be careful about what you say to Freddie, Valentina. He is very literal."
"I have spent many hours thinking about it," Valentina said. "I could give you several reasons. In the end, it was because I realized something about myself. I didn't like what I had discovered."
What did you discover?
"That I was nothing but a pawn in a stupid game, valued only for my potential sacrifice. I was tired of being a chess piece on Orlov's board."
Chess is an excellent game. Stephanie refuses to play chess with me because I always win. The pawn can sometimes be the most valuable piece on the board.
"Until it is no longer valuable," Valentina said. "I was a pawn who became no longer valuable to the king. There are few human feelings more disturbing than realizing you have no value as a person."
That is helpful to my understanding of humans. I will consider what you have said.
"Do you speak Croatian?" Elizabeth asked.
Valentina held up her thumb and index finger, a little way apart.
"A little. I am not fluent. Why?"
Elizabeth ignored her question. "Good enough to get by on the street? You can read signs, things like that?"
"Yes."
"Let's cut to the chase," Nick said.
"One of your idioms, no?" Valentina said. "What does this mean, please?"
"It means to get to the heart of the matter, the most important thing."
"What is that?"
"Why do you think we brought you here today?" Elizabeth asked.
"At first I thought you wanted to ask me more questions. Now I think you are planning something and you need my help. Maybe something that requires Croatian."
"Told you she was smart," Ronnie said.
"How far are you willing to go to work with us?" Nick asked.
"Work with you? In what way?"
"We're planning a covert mission," Elizabeth said. "It's possible we could run into hostile forces there. Everyone on the team will have to be armed."
"You would wish me to go with you? As part of an armed unit?"
"That's right."
"Ah, now I understand. You want to know if I would fire on my countrymen."
"Yes. It is unlikely to happen on this mission. But sooner or later it could become necessary."
"Valentina."
"Yes, sister?"
"Think carefully about what you say. Either way, it will not affect your asylum status. If you say no, it means you will go back to the safe house and eventually be settled somewhere with a new identity. But if you say yes, be sure you mean it."
"I cannot answer this so easily. I have to think about it."
Elizabeth nodded. "I respect that. I'd be uneasy with a quick answer. How long do you need to decide?"
"A day," Valentina said. "I would like to have a day."
"Nick, I have a suggestion," Selena said.
"You've got that look," Nick said.
"What look?"
"The look you get when you want me to do something I might not agree with."
"Well, I was just thinking. What if Valentina stays with us while she mulls it over, instead of sending her back to Virginia? She can take the guest room at the other end of the loft."
"You think that's a good idea?"
"It's a chance for us to know each other better. The only time we've ever seen her has been when there's trouble. It would be nice to have some time together. You'd have a better sense of who she is. Both of us would. And she would get to know who you are."
"Mmm."
"Then you agree?"
Nick rubbed the side of his nose with a knuckle. "Why not? I can make my famous spaghetti dinner."
"You are also cook, Nick?" Valentina said. "In Russia, men do not usually prepare the meals at home."
"You have a lot to learn about America," Nick said.
"That's settled then," Elizabeth said. "Valentina, you have your day, but no longer."
CHAPTER 19
Two men sat in a car parked on the opposite side of the street from Selena and Nick's building. It was nearing the end of a cold, January day, and the men shivered inside the car. They'd been parked there since Valentina had arrived. Now they waited for her to leave.
The man behind the wheel was named Viktor Bulitnikov. He was thinking his companion stank of garlic and wishing he was sitting in a bar with a glass of vodka in front of him instead of this freezing, stinking car.
"How long do you think she'll be in there?" he asked.
Garlic eater's name was Vasily Morozov.
"How would I know? Our orders are to wait until she leaves and follow her."
His words sent a blast of garlic fumes into the air.
"What if she doesn't come out?"
"Then Lavrov will send someone to relieve us."
Vladimir Lavrov was the Washington Rhezident, the equivalent of CIA's Chief of Station. He worked out of the Russian Embassy under diplomatic cover, running operations for Russia's foreign intelligence service, the SVR. The two men in the car were SVR agents.
"What's so important about this woman, anyway?" Bulitnikov asked. "I need to take a dump."
"You will wait. Or do you want to explain to Lavrov why you failed to follow orders? He said constant surveillance. That's what we're doing. You don't need to know why she's important."
"He's got a real bug up his ass about this."
"All I know is that he got a cable from Moscow this morning. Headquarters is putting pressure on him. So whoever she is, we keep an eye on her. Understand? Stop whining. It could be worse. You could be in Vladivostok freezing your balls off, instead of freezing them off in this nice car."
Morozov's phone played part of a Russian pop song.
"Da." He listened and nodded his head. "Da. Khorosho."
He put the phone back in his pocket.
"What was that?" Bulitnikov asked.
"A change in plan. We're getting backup."
"Backup? What for?"
"Lavrov has ordered us to get the woman."
"But there are others in there."
"We wait until she leaves, then grab her and bring her to the embas
sy. If she doesn't come out, we wait until dark and go in after her. If that happens, Lavrov doesn't want any witnesses. He doesn't want her harmed, but her companions are fair game. Is that clear enough for you?"
"I don't like it."
"You don't have to like it. Lavrov is sending Vetrov and Gorokhin."
"Vetrov is an idiot."
"A big idiot, though. He's useful when there's a potential problem."
Bulitnikov snorted. "It's only a woman. How much of a problem can it be?"
Morozov sighed. "You said it yourself. There are others in there. That's a complication."
Bulitnikov patted his jacket.
"Mister Makarov can take care of any complications."
"Don't be childish."
Morozov looked in the rearview mirror. A blue van pulled up behind them with Vetrov at the wheel.
"There they are. Now we wait."
Twenty minutes later, Morozov stirred.
"Someone's coming out."
Elizabeth and Stephanie emerged from the building, followed by Ronnie and Lamont. The women got into Elizabeth's black Audi, parked halfway down the block. Ronnie and Lamont climbed into Ronnie's Hummer. The Russians watched the cars drive away.
"It's getting dark," Bulitnikov said.
"Your powers of observation amaze me. If the woman doesn't come out soon, we'll go in."
They waited another hour. By then, it was full dark.
Morozov looked at his watch.
"I don't think she's coming out anytime soon. It's been long enough. Go tell the others."
Grumbling, Bulitnikov got out of the car and walked back to the van. Gorokhin and Vetrov got out and joined Morozov where he stood by the car.
Morozov's breath formed puffs of white vapor in the cold night air as he spoke.
"The target is on the top floor. We'll take the stairs. There are two other people in the apartment."
"What do you want us to do when we get there?" Vetrov asked.
He was a big man. He wore a dark overcoat of cheap manufacture, tight across his broad shoulders. His face was broad and coarse, dark with the shadow of his beard. He looked like the thug he was.
"I have the best English," Morozov said. "I will knock on the door and say I am delivering pizza."
"What if they didn't order any pizza?"
"Idiot. It doesn't matter. They will think it's a mistake and come to the door to tell me I am at the wrong place."
"What if they don't open the door?"
"Americans are naïve and trusting. They will open the door. If they don't, you will kick it in."
Vetrov nodded, pleased with the simple instruction.
"I can do that."
"What about when we get inside?" Gorokhin asked.
"Our job is to grab the woman. We kill anyone else. Lavrov said no witnesses. They won't be expecting trouble. It will be easy."
Morozov looked at his three companions.
"Any other questions? No? I didn't think so."
The four Russians entered the building.
CHAPTER 20
"The food's almost ready," Nick said.
"Good. I'm starving," Selena said.
She finished wiping applesauce from Katrina's face. Jason watched Valentina with a concerned frown, unsure who this new person was.
"I've got them fed. With a little luck, we'll have some peace and quiet while we're eating."
"Your children are beautiful," Valentina said.
"Thanks, aunt Val."
"Aunt?"
"It's tetka in Russian."
"Ah."
"Spaghetti's ready," Nick said. "Valentina, grab a bottle of wine from that rack over there."
He finished transferring spaghetti from the pot to a strainer, then into a bowl. He took the bowl and set it on the table, next to another dish of steaming tomato sauce and meatballs.
Valentina pulled a bottle of red wine from the rack.
"How about this one?"
"Good choice," Nick said. "Come on, let's eat."
The doorbell rang.
"Who's that?"
"Only one way to find out," Selena said.
She went to the door. Whoever was there stood outside the view of the security camera.
"Who is it?" Selena called.
"Pizza."
"We didn't order any pizza."
"It says Carter on the order. Double cheese, extra pepperoni, anchovies."
Nick hated anchovies. Besides, Selena knew he hadn't ordered pizza.
"You have the wrong address."
"Lady, I have to deliver this."
Across the room, Nick set down a dish of butter on the table and looked at the front door where Selena stood. Valentina was searching for a corkscrew in a kitchen drawer.
"You have the wrong address," Selena said again.
Something hit the door hard, bursting it open, driving it into Selena. She fell back onto the floor. A big man came through the opening, charging toward Nick. Jason and Katrina started crying.
Valentina hurled the unopened wine bottle at him. It struck Vetrov in the face. Something broke with a loud crunch. He stumbled. Blood streamed from his nose. Nick kicked him in the groin. The Russian doubled over with a grunt of pain. Nick finished him off with an elbow strike to the base of his skull. He hit the floor and lay still.
One down.
The next man was on him. Nick lowered his head, butted him in the face, and brought him to the floor with a leg sweep. He followed up with a kick to the head that knocked him unconscious.
Valentina leapt over the counter and went for the next man through the door. He had a gun, but she was on him before he could fire. She wrapped her left hand around the gun and twisted it at an impossible angle to his wrist. His trigger finger broke and the gun fired. Bits of plaster rained down from the ceiling. He grunted with pain. She kept hold of the gun, grabbed his elbow, and broke it with a wet, snapping sound.
The Russian screamed. She drove stiffened fingers into his throat. He collapsed onto the floor, choking.
The last man had an ugly black pistol in his hand. Selena came up off the floor and dove into him, taking him down. The gun went off. An antique Greek sculpture on the other side of the room shattered into a thousand fragments.
The twins were howling.
Then Nick was there. He planted a hard kick to the man's face, then a second.
That quickly, the fight was over.
"Jesus," he said.
Valentina bent over the man she'd hit with the bottle.
"This one is still alive."
"This one, too," Nick said. "Get some duct tape. It's in the cabinet under the sink."
Valentina went for the tape. Nick picked up one of the pistols and looked at it.
Makarov. Russians.
He held it ready, watching the two who'd survived the fight. Vetrov had regained consciousness. He lay on the floor in a fetal position, moaning and clutching his groin. Valentina found the duct tape. She ripped off a strip and bound his hands together, then his feet. Then she went to where Morozov lay unconscious.
"This one is in bad shape. His face is all funny where you kicked him."
"Tough. He's lucky he's alive."
"Maybe not for long."
The twins were in full throat, crying hysterically. Selena began calming them down. Nick looked at Valentina.
"Nice shot with that bottle. He would have had me."
"I was lucky."
She went to where the unopened bottle lay next to the wall and picked it up.
"I think I would like a glass of wine," she said.
"I think you've earned it," Nick said. "Why don't you make it two?"
Valentina went back to the kitchen, looking for the corkscrew.
Nick called Harker and told her what had happened.
"You think they're Russians?"
"They were carrying Makarovs. They look Russian."
"That's not good," Harker said.
"Two of them are still
alive, but they need an ambulance. I don't think one is going to make it. I need a cleanup team and I want these goons out of my house as soon as possible."
"Did anybody hear the fight? Do we have to deal with the police?"
"I don't think so, or I'd hear sirens by now. The people on the floor below us are on vacation in Hawaii. The floor below that is between tenants. We're all right."
"That's a relief. I'll have someone there in an hour, maybe less."
"I want to know why these people showed up. They scared the shit out of my kids."
"We'll find out."
"They wanted me," Valentina said.
Nick turned to her.
"You think that's what this was about?"
"They are SVR. I have seen hundreds like them. They are like nuts and bolts in a factory, always the same. The only difference is in sizes. Orlov is angry. He wants me back in Moscow, so he can gloat and prove he is a man by punishing me. I know too much. It means he's worried. Why else would they come?"
"Mmm," Nick said. "Director, Valentina thinks they were after her."
"We need a meeting," Elizabeth said. "Tomorrow morning at eight?"
"That will work. Let's do it here."
"Anything else, Nick?"
"Send a carpenter with the cleanup crew. They kicked in the door."
"That will have to wait until tomorrow," Elizabeth said.
Nick ended the call.
CHAPTER 21
The next morning it was snowing. The snow was at the fresh and picturesque stage, coating everything with a gentle, white covering that hid the flaws and grime of the city. Later, it would lose the illusion of gentleness and no one would think it was picturesque. The weather forecast predicted twelve to eighteen inches by nightfall.
Elizabeth had dressed for the weather in a tailored wool suit. Her milk white skin was as pale as the snow blowing outside. With her emerald green eyes, raven black hair, and diminutive size, she looked like a character from Lord of the Rings.
"The men who attacked you are all Russian nationals," Harker said.
"I told you so," Valentina said.
"One of them is still unconscious. He's in intensive care. The big one isn't talking, but he doesn't strike me as someone who knows much. He was probably along as muscle."