by Ethan Jones
Maryland State Route 200
Montgomery County, Maryland
United States of America
“Put it down. Slowly,” Max shouted as he turned his rifle upon Ava.
“Feliks needs help. He’s wounded.” Ava tossed the rifle into the grass and dropped to her knees.
“What?” Max rushed toward her.
“He’s shot in the chest. That’s why I rushed out of the Escalade.”
Max leaned over Feliks. His face had turned pale, and he was barely breathing. Blood was gushing from at least two wounds. Max slowly opened Feliks’s jacket and glanced at the larger wound. It was just under the last rib on the right side. The wound was deep and looked bad.
Max sighed. He had seen this before. He wanted to say something encouraging to his partner, but he also didn’t want the last words that Feliks heard to be lies. He knelt next to Feliks and lifted his head. “Brother, you fought well. You … you did all you could.”
Feliks let out a weak cough, and a trickle of blood came out of the corner of his lips.
Max wiped it with his hand.
It seemed like Feliks was trying to speak, so Max leaned closer to the dying man. There was a gasp, a very low gasp, then a feeble whisper, “Max … I’m sorry…”
“No, no, no, don’t be sorry. You’re the best, Feliks. You fought like a lion.”
Now he was looking at the lifeless eyes of Feliks, who had given up his spirit.
Max swallowed hard and sniffled back tears welling up in his eyes. He gently ran his hand over Feliks’s face and closed his eyes. Then he exhaled hard and cursed the way things had turned. He looked at Ava, who gave him a truly heart-felt look. “I wish I could have helped him…”
Max nodded and stood up. “I’ll bring the SUV around.”
“Give me the keys, and I’ll do it.”
“I don’t think so.”
“Do you think we’ll escape?”
“I do.” Max picked up Feliks’s rifle, which Ava had tossed a few feet away. “You betrayed our country.”
Ava stepped closer to Max. “I love Russia. I didn’t betray my motherland.”
“The evidence shows otherwise.”
“Once you talk to Volkov, you might change your mind.”
“I doubt it. Let’s go.” He gestured for her to walk in front of him. “How did you remove the handcuffs?”
Ava shrugged. “Bobby pin. He left them too loose…”
When they reached the Escalade, Volkov was still there. He gave Max a sad and tired look and said, “How’s Feliks?”
“He’s gone.” Max put the rifles on the front passenger seat, then found a pair of white plastic flex cuffs in the glove compartment and turned to Ava. She put her hands behind her back, and he handcuffed Ava, before she sat next to Volkov.
Before he could close the rear door, Volkov said, “I’m sorry about Feliks. I know you were good friends.”
“All this happened because of you…”
“Your partner just died—”
“He didn’t die. He was killed, by people who wanted to save your worthless life.”
“Max, I know how you must be feeling—”
Max brought up his rifle and pointed it at Volkov’s head. “What do you know about my feelings?”
Volkov drew in a deep breath. “I’ve had men and women die on my watch. You feel furious, hurt, depressed, and powerless, all at the same time. I’m saying that I understand what you must be going through.” He cocked his head toward the rifle. “Now, get that thing out of my face…”
Ava said, “One of the dead bodies there was Khasilik, the GRU chief.”
“What?” Volkov shifted in his seat.
“That doesn’t change anything.” Max slammed shut the door.
When he climbed into the driver’s seat, Volkov said, “That doesn’t change anything? That changes everything. You know you can’t trust GRU anymore.”
Max yanked the wheel and turned the Escalade around. “I don’t work for GRU.”
“But you work with them.”
“Khasilik’s dead, and his team is gone. That doesn’t mean I can’t trust all of the agency.”
“Deep down you know your faith is shattered. Can you trust the next GRU team?”
Max didn’t answer. Volkov was right, but Max wasn’t about to admit it. He stopped the SUV next to Feliks’s body and picked him up. Max laid him gently in the Escalade’s third row of seats, then cast a sweeping glance at the scene. It looked like a war zone, the air thick with the burning smell of rubber. The smoke had mostly dispersed, and a dead body was visible in the driver’s seat of the shredded Jeep.
Max glanced across the highway. A number of drivers had stopped on the shoulder and were curiously looking at the unusual scene unfolding in front of their eyes. Thankfully, no one was recording or taking pictures of the carnage. Max retrieved the duffel bag and returned to the driver’s seat. He hit the gas, and the Escalade jerked forward.
“What’s the plan now?” Volkov asked.
Max said nothing. He had no plan, not yet, but his mind was on overdrive, pondering his options. He thought about Khasilik and his betrayal. What was the motive? Money? Did Volkov pay the GRU chief so that he could arrange for his escape? Was this an attempt by the GRU to eliminate Volkov as payback for his killings of the GRU operatives? If that’s the case, why didn’t they get rid of him while he was in their custody? Max shook his head. It’s easier to execute the hit while en route, and blame it on Volkov’s attempting to escape.
A new thought crossed his mind and darkened his face. What if … what if they’re trying to put this on me? Help Volkov escape, or kill him, and blame me for either. He clenched his teeth. That’s not going to happen. I’m not going to betray my country like Khasilik or Volkov. Never.
He found Volkov’s face in the rearview mirror. “How much did you promise them?”
Volkov shook his head. “I told you this is not me. I’m not doing any of this.”
Ava nodded. “He’s telling the truth. If we were planning to escape, we wouldn’t have been caught.”
Max blinked. “Are you saying you wanted to be caught?”
Before Volkov or Ava could answer him, Max’s phone rang. He glanced at the screen, but the caller’s number was identified only as “Private.” He hesitated for a moment, and the phone rang again. Max picked it up. “Yes…”
“I’d like to talk to Mr. Thornichinovich,” said a strong voice in Russian. His words sounded like a demand, rather than a simple request.
“And who is this?” Max tried to give his voice a thicker tone than usual.
“This is Ratimir Tupolev. Perhaps you’ve heard of me?”
“I haven’t…”
“It doesn’t matter. Now you have. You have something of mine, and I want it back.”
Max looked at the rearview mirror. Volkov’s face showed no emotions. Max said, “What might that be?”
“Who. I want Valery Volkov. My sources tell me that he’s still in your custody. Is that correct?”
Max didn’t reply right away.
Tupolev said, “I’ll take your silence as a ‘yes,’ and that’s good.”
“You might be mistaken.”
“I don’t think so. But even if I am, my proposal will change your mind.” Tupolev sounded truly convinced, as if the deed was already concluded. “A million dollars, US dollars, for Mr. Volkov. His assistant … you can keep her, do with her whatever pleases you.”
“Do you think he’s for sale?”
“Of course he is. Is my price not to your liking? Because, if that’s the case, I’m willing to double it…”
“Mr. Tupolev, even if Volkov is for sale, I’m not…”
“Mr. Thornichinovich, you’ve been in the intelligence business long enough to know that everything is for sale…”
“Not everything. Not me.”
“I’d like you to reconsider. And let me give you an incentive: another million. Now the price for Vo
lkov is three million dollars.”
Max shook his head. “We seem to have a problem in communication. Are you having trouble hearing me?”
“No, I hear you very well.”
“Then you must not understand. I will not, I repeat, I will not, under any circumstances, hand over Volkov or Alexandrova.”
He looked at the rearview mirror, regretting speaking so clearly. Volkov seemed to be smiling. Shouldn’t he be upset about my refusal? Ava’s thin eyebrows were arched and her suspicious eyes clearly showed her surprise.
A moment of tense silence, then Tupolev said, “You’re making a rash and wrong decision, but I understand you need some time to think. You have one hour. One hour to reassess the situation.”
“There’s nothing to—”
“I’m not finished, so don’t interrupt me.” Tupolev’s voice turned into an irritated shout. “Listen to the last incentive: your life. If you hand over Volkov, I will spare your life.”
“You make it sound like it’s yours…”
“It is, Mr. Thornichinovich. It’s mine to take. Think about it, then call this number.”
“I wouldn’t wait by the phone.”
“My men missed the first time, but they won’t miss again.”
“They’re all dead, and if you send more, they’ll meet the same fate.”
“Your cockiness will get you killed. Remember, one hour.”
Max shrugged and ended the call. He let out a deep sigh, then glanced at Volkov. “There’s an offer on your head. Three million dollars. As you heard, I said ‘No’.”
“I would have taken it,” Ava said.
Max looked at her. Ava was grinning in such a way that he couldn’t determine if she was serious or not.
Max said, “You’re extremely valuable to a certain Mr. Tupolev.”
Volkov’s face twisted into an ugly scowl. He leaned forward and cursed Tupolev. “That traitor wants me dead.”
“He’s paying three million dollars to kill you?”
Volkov nodded. “Yes, after he’s extracted every secret out of me.”
Max eased off on the gas and thought about the briefing session with the GRU Captain Kasparova and the SVR Deputy Director Blokhin. They had mentioned that Volkov was working with a powerful millionaire who was buying Cold War secrets. So Max said, “You’ve already sold intelligence to Tupolev.”
The angry glare remained on Volkov’s face. “Whatever they’ve told you, I haven’t given Tupolev a single piece of information, regardless of his offers or threats…”
“Did you meet with him?”
“I did meet him, yes. Aboard his yacht, somewhere in the Mediterranean. He promised me five million dollars for information about my time in the KGB. I refused, of course, just like you.” A small smile flashed on Volkov’s face for a brief moment.
Max nodded. “What happened when he refused?”
“Tupolev asked me to reconsider. I said I would, to bide time and avoid bloodshed. Ava was ready to kill them all.”
“You should have let me,” Ava’s voice rang with true regret. “There were only five of them.”
“Perhaps I should have, and we wouldn’t have been in this predicament. But, here we are.”
Max tried to process all this new information. He wasn’t prepared for this turn of events. But then, nothing could have ever prepared someone for such a situation. “I’ve got to think about this and decide…”
“We can help,” Volkov said.
“Of course you can, in exchange for your freedom,” Max said.
“No, I’m tired of running. I don’t want to escape.”
“I don’t believe you.”
Ava leaned forward. “Before Tupolev’s call, we were telling you about how if we desired to escape, we would have not been caught in the first place.”
Max studied her face for a quick moment, then returned his eyes to the highway. Traffic had become heavier, so Max had to tap the brake pedal. “Why did you want to get caught?”
Volkov smiled. “The smartest thing you’ve said so far. I’ll answer that, and tell you everything you want to know, once we’re somewhere safe.”
“We are safe.”
Volkov shook his head. “The GRU team killed your friend and tracked this vehicle. As far as we know, there might be a recorder hidden somewhere here. They might be listening to every word…”
Max bit his lip. The thought hadn’t occurred to him, as he’d been busy with trying to keep himself and the rest of his team alive. Even if Volkov was wrong, they needed a new vehicle. Something clean and safe. The police were already looking for Max and Feliks even before the highway shootings. They could drive only so far in a bullet-riddled Escalade…
He thought about his answer for a long moment as they came to one of the signs announcing the next exit. Max turned the steering wheel and peeled off the highway. “We’ll find new transport and a hotel. Then, you’ll tell me everything.”
Volkov nodded. “Sounds like a good plan, Max.”
Max thought about asking Ava about the last time he had seen her, at the Sheremetyevo International Airport, and her involvement in what had taken place. But Volkov’s words echoed in his mind. If there was a recording device in the Escalade, Max didn’t want it to have every single word of their conversation. He shook his head. I’ll wait until we find a safe place. Then, she’ll tell me everything.
Chapter Thirteen
Fairland, Maryland
United States of America
Max avoided the main routes leading onto Fairland and instead made a series of turns, going around most intersections and driving through backstreets and behind buildings whenever it was possible. When he noticed an Enterprise Rent-A-Car, he parked the Escalade at the half-empty parking lot of a McDonald’s, a few blocks away from the rental company. He turned off the engine and removed the keys. Then he moved Volkov to the driver’s seat and cuffed his hands to the steering wheel. “Needless to say, don’t try to leave the SUV.”
Volkov nodded.
“Needless to say,” Ava said.
Max put both rifles and Feliks’s Grach pistol into the duffel bag and locked the bag in a special compartment at the rear of the Escalade. He slid his pistol back into his holster and headed toward the fast food restaurant. In the bathroom, he cleaned himself as much as he could. A large bloodstain had marked the side of his black jacket. Feliks’s blood. Max clenched his teeth, thinking of his partner’s body getting cold in the back of the SUV. Although his killers had been eliminated, Max still felt revenge sizzling in his entire being. I won’t stop until Tupolev has paid for taking Feliks’s life.
Max drew in a series of deep breaths and studied his face in the mirror. His eyes had turned into small slits, and his facial muscles were tight. He tried to relax, so that he wouldn’t come across as intimidating or suspicious to the car rental clerk, or draw the wrong kind of attention.
He didn’t leave the bathroom until he felt confident that he looked presentable. As he marched toward the car rental building, he looked at the Escalade. Its doors were closed, and Volkov and Ava were still inside. He felt uneasy leaving them, especially after what had happened the last time. But she had rushed to assist Feliks. Or at least that’s what she said. During their conversation, both Volkov and Ava had made it clear that they had no intention of escaping. Are they trying to mess with my mind? Max shrugged. I have to secure new transport. Then, I won’t let them out of sight.
He presented a fake driver’s license and credit card at the car rental agency. Business seemed to be slow, and the clerk was eager to rent Max whatever vehicle he wanted. Max chose a white Ford Expedition full-size SUV. While the clerk prepared the paperwork, he searched for a hotel and booked a room at a Hampton Inn & Suites about eleven miles north. Then he picked up the SUV and returned to the McDonald’s parking lot.
As expected, the detainees were both there, and Max breathed easier when he saw them. He studied the rest of the parking lot and the surrounding area
, but no one was paying attention to them. Max had turned the Escalade at such an angle that most of the bullet holes and cracked glass were not visible unless someone walked up to the SUV. “Let’s go,” Max told Volkov and Ava.
“Did you have any trouble at the rental agency?” Volkov said.
“No. We should now be clear.”
He moved Feliks’s body and everything he needed from the Escalade, then escorted Volkov and Ava into the Ford. Two minutes later, they were on Columbia Pike, heading north toward Burtonsville.
Volkov asked, “What’s the plan now?”
Max pulled out his phone. “We have a hotel a few minutes away from here. But first, I need to make another call.”
“I hope you’re not calling the GRU…”
“Did I ask for advice?”
“No, but I’m giving it anyway.”
Max shook his head. “Are you always this patronizing?”
Ava said, “Most of the time.”
Volkov shook his head. “It’s experience.”
Max said nothing. He wasn’t planning to talk to anyone from the GRU. And one needed no experience to conclude that it wasn’t a good idea to call the agency whose operatives had just betrayed them. It mattered little if they were acting under direct or indirect orders or entirely on their own. Max had neither the time nor the inclination to find out the truth. Not if SVR Deputy Director Blokhin could provide the necessary assistance. His personal cellphone number was not in the files that were handed to Max, but he had leveraged his network of contacts to secure those important digits to use only in extreme situations, like this one.
He stopped on the side of the road and stepped out of the SUV without a word to either Volkov or Ava. He entered Blokhin’s number while making some mental calculations about the time difference. Moscow was seven hours ahead of Maryland. Yes, Blokhin is awake and will answer.
He did, but not until after the fifth ring. “SVR Deputy Director Blokhin. Who is calling?”
Max was using his personal phone, registered under a fake name that Blokhin wouldn’t recognize. Max said, “This is FSB Agent Thornichinovich. I have some bad news.”