by Ethan Jones
He found the gesture strange. They trust me already? I mean, if Volkov is really my father? But … how can that be?
Ava said, “Clean yourself up. Hurry.”
Max used one of the facecloths to wipe as much blood as he could from his face. He dabbed at the wounds and joined the other two.
Ava led them through the hall and away from the elevators. She saw a red fire alarm lever and pulled it. The ear-piercing siren wailed through the hall. Doors opened, and people began to fill the hall.
“This way,” Ava said when they reached the staircase.
They joined the rest of the people, then peeled away from the crowd. Volkov walked by himself, slower than usually, feigning he was a tired old man. A police officer passed by Volkov without giving him a second glance.
Max looked at the police cruiser parked at the curb. No one was inside.
“They drove a Jeep and a Dodge,” Ava whispered and tossed Max the keys to the Dodge. “Whoever finds it first, drives it.”
“There’s the Jeep.” Max tipped his head to their left.
“You should have looked for the Dodge.”
They reached the Jeep at about the same time as Volkov. “I’ll drive.” He took the keys from a displeased Ava.
“I’ll sit in the back; let you boys have the front seats for your chat.”
Max glanced back at the police cruiser and climbed inside the Jeep. Volkov drove slowly around the people scattering throughout the parking lot.
Max said, “What if there are microphones in the Jeep?”
Volkov shook his head. “No need. These are run-of-the-mill operatives, expendables. This vehicle was never meant to transport detainees. Plus, I don’t really care if anyone’s listening.”
Max shifted in the seat to face Volkov. “So, is it true what you said in the hotel room?”
“A hundred percent true. I wouldn’t play with such heavy truth. I’m your father.”
“But … how’s that possible?”
“I met your mother during my assignment years in Berlin. She was working there at the time. We … we had plans, dreams … But it was wartime. And things went the way they went.”
Volkov drew in a deep breath and paused, seemingly to collect his thoughts.
Max could take the silence no longer. “That’s it? You tell me you’re my father, give me a couple of sentences in a nostalgic voice, and I’m supposed to believe that?”
“Of course not. You need evidence, just like me—”
“I’m nothing like you—”
Volkov cut him off with a dismissive hand. “The evidence. Look at the pendant around your neck, the cross you have on your silver necklace.”
“What?” Max’s hand went instinctively to his shirt. He ran his fingers along the shape of the cross over the fabric. “How do you know about that?”
“It was a gift to your mother when … when we knew we’d have a child. It has her initials … and mine on the back. And the year, 1989. And space for your initials.”
Max flinched. He had always wondered about the V.V. inscription on the back of the cross. “This could be coincidence … Many people know about my cross…” He said the words in an unconvinced tone.
“You know I’m telling the truth, Maximillian. That’s what your mother always wanted to call you.”
Max sighed and lay back on his seat. He shook his head, thoroughly confused at the revelation. Volkov was his father. This … this can’t be. Why? What am I going to do now? What are we going to do now?
Chapter Fifteen
Columbia, Maryland
United States of America
When they came to the edge of Columbia, the team flagged a taxi to take them to Ellicott City, about nine miles northeast. Max wasn’t sure this was the right course of action, but he had refrained from expressing his doubts. His mind was still overburdened because of the revelation. If Volkov is truly my father, then he knows a lot about my mother… Everything Max had heard about his mother had come from people who knew about her, but none of them had met her in person. Pieces of information here and there and a few photographs; that was all that he had. Volkov can change all that. But I’m not fully convinced. No, he has to give me more.
Ava gave the taxi driver the address to the Residence Inn in Ellicott City. She pretended to be the only one who spoke English, doing so fluently with an Italian accent and claimed that she, her father, and her brother were going to visit their aunt who’d come to pick them up at the hotel. The taxi driver seemed to buy the story and didn’t ask too many questions.
As Volkov had explained when they were still in the Jeep, they had no intention of staying at the Residence Inn or any other hotel nearby or in Ellicott City. Taxis would be one of the first places the police would check, along with hotels in a wide circle around Columbia. The plan was to “borrow” a car in Ellicott City. Ava was assigned that task, and she promised not to kill the gullible driver who’d give her a ride because her car had broken down.
A tense silence reigned during the taxi ride. The team couldn’t discuss anything about what had happened or their plans. Max’s phone rang a couple of times, and the caller ID told him it was SVR Deputy Director Blokhin. It took all Max’s strength to overcome the urge to answer the phone and unload on Blokhin. Volkov rested a reassuring hand on Max’s shoulder, and that gesture seemed to do the trick. Max supposed that if Volkov wasn’t his father, this tale was the greatest lie ever told…
Ava paid the taxi driver and gave him a good tip, not outrageously generous, but certainly didn’t shortchange him so that he wouldn’t remember them when the police called him. Then she walked across the parking lot in search of an unsuspecting victim.
Volkov glanced at Max, who was pacing alongside the hotel, staying away from the security cameras’ wide angles, and walked up to him. “It’s time you asked me everything you want…”
“I want evidence. Pictures, letters, mementos…”
Volkov nodded. “I’ll give you everything I have.”
“What was my mother like?”
Volkov smiled. “She was a wonderful woman. So gentle, and kind, and big-hearted. Not made for this kind of life.”
“This kind of life?”
Volkov peered deep into Max’s eyes. “You don’t know, do you?”
“Tell me who she was.”
“Your mother, Maria, she was a CIA operative stationed in Berlin.”
Max’s eyes turned into small slits. “CIA? She was an American spy?”
“Technically speaking. She worked in logistics but had access to intelligence. That made her a target.”
“For elimination?”
“No, for turning her against her country.”
“A double agent.”
Volkov nodded.
“And that was you?”
“No. I was good, but not that good. That was someone else, one of the best agents in the field. Your mother was a tough woman. We thought it was incredible when she turned.”
“But she did.”
“Eventually, and that’s when I started to work with her. She didn’t report to me, but we had … we formed this relationship. One thing led to the other … you know how it is.”
Max studied Volkov’s face. “What were your intentions?”
Volkov shrugged. “I don’t know, Max. I really don’t know. I was young and in love. I had dreams and hopes that things would change, could change, and Maria and I could be together.” He shook his head and dropped his eyes to the ground. “It wasn’t meant to be.”
Max felt dizzy and had to lean against the wall.
Volkov stepped closer. “You alright?”
“Yes, just light-headed.”
“Do you need to sit?”
“No, I’m okay. I’ll be okay. Then what happened?”
“Well, the Berlin Wall crumbled, and that was the beginning of the end. Some of our intelligence fell into the wrong hands, and your mother’s situation became very dangerous. I tried to get her
out, but…”
Max peered deep into Volkov’s eyes. “What happened?”
“You don’t know that either, do you?”
“Tell me. Tell me everything.”
Volkov shrugged. “I think I’ve told you enough for now. Plus, Ava’s here.” He gestured with his hand toward the parking lot.
She pulled up in a red convertible Mustang. She looked at Max and said, “Before you say anything, the owner is okay. Well, he’ll be okay when he wakes up in a couple of hours.”
Volkov whistled in admiration. “This will be extremely discreet.”
“Sorry, there were no Ferraris,” Ava said.
Volkov took the front seat. “Like the Americans say, ‘Age before … handsomeness’.” He grinned.
Max groaned. The backseat was so small that his long legs almost touched his chest.
“You good?” Ava said.
“Eh, as good as it gets.”
Ava drove slowly through the parking lot, then turned onto Maryland State Route 100. Max felt the warm sun hit his face, and the cool wind was playing with his hair. “Now, where to?”
“You should probably take care of those calls,” Volkov said. “Not that I’m telling you what to do…”
Max shook his head. “I’m not ready to deal with it.”
“Then get ready. Better to call your boss on your own terms.”
“He’s no longer my boss. Come to think about it, he never was.”
“You can tell him that.”
Ava said, “Tupolev also needs an answer.”
“I already gave him the answer,” Max said.
“Your answer may have changed, since your situation has changed,” Volkov said in a semi-conspiratorial tone.
“Speak frankly if you have something to say,” Max said in an annoyed voice.
“You’re handing me over to Tupolev. That’s how we’re taking him down.”
“What? No, we can’t do that.”
“Sure we can,” Ava said.
“We don’t know where he is, or how many men he has. And it’s only the three of us.”
Volkov said, “You don’t know where Tupolev is. I’ve been tracking that man since the first day I learned he wanted me killed. We know where he is, and the security he has.”
“Still, it’s just us.”
“We’ll get help. I know a few people.”
Max sighed. “Of course you do.”
“Look, son—”
“Stop, stop, don’t do that.”
“What?”
“Don’t use that word.”
“Right, not ready for it … Look, Max, this is a different game now. We’re no longer the prey; we’re the predators. Tupolev, the GRU, the SVR, the local police, or the FBI and the CIA … none of them are going to stop until they’ve found us. As you saw, they’re not going to be kind to any of us, including you,” Volkov said in a warm, almost fatherly tone.
Max nodded. He knew Volkov was right. The initial operation had gone so sideways, there was no way he could correct it. Well, maybe not all was lost, if Volkov would truly agree to return to Moscow. However, if he was determined to go after Tupolev, Max wouldn’t be able to change the man’s mind.
He was still contemplating his reply when the phone rang. It was SVR Deputy Director Blokhin. Max flinched as if the call had smacked him across the face.
“Pull over,” Volkov said to Ava.
“No, it’s all right. I don’t care if you hear this…”
Max answered the call. “Why did you do that?”
A brief pause, then Blokhin said, “What? Tell me what … what happened, Maxim,” he stammered.
“Oh, come on. You know very well what happened.”
“I … no, I don’t.”
“You sent the team to kill me and the detainee.”
“No, no, no, of course not. Is that what took place?”
Max groaned. “They tried, and they’re all dead. The detainee is still alive.”
Another tense pause, then Blokhin said, “Look, Maxim, whatever happened, things got out of hand.” He had regained his composure, his voice firm and calm. “It must have been some mistake, and I had nothing—”
“You didn’t authorize the hit?”
“No, certainly not. Why—”
“Because you want Volkov dead, and you wanted me to be your fall guy.”
“Maxim, you’re mistaken—”
“No, it’s you who made a grave mistake. But listen, no matter what you try to do, it will fail. I will bring Volkov back to Russia, and no one, GRU, or SVR, or any combination, will stop me.”
“Maxim, you’re taking this out of—”
“No, I’m calling it as it is, Blokhin. You sent your men to kill me. Don’t try that again, or—”
“Or what? What will you do? You were sent to America with a mission, a mission that now you’re refusing to—”
“I’m not refusing my assignment, but I refuse to die at your henchmen’s hands…”
“Maxim, think about what you’re saying and doing…”
“Good advice, Blokhin. How about you do the same?”
Blokhin coughed, then let out a small snicker. “Maxim, I’ve heard enough. Here’s a direct order: Bring Volkov alive straight to the airport as per your original assignment.”
“Or?”
“You don’t want to find out.”
“Tell me, Blokhin.”
“If you disobey the order, you’ll be punished in the most severe way.”
“You will try again to kill me?”
“Maxim, if you threaten my agency’s operation, if you get in the way, you will be removed, like any other obstacle.”
Max shook his head and clenched his teeth. He looked at Volkov’s stoic face. I wish I could be as calm as he is. Max sighed and said, “Blokhin, if you try to kill me or my detainee, I’ll consider you a threat to this op—”
“Who gives you the right—”
Max pressed a button and ended the call. He cursed Blokhin, then glanced at Volkov, who gave him a measured nod. “It was tough, but the right decision.”
Ava said, “You were very polite with him. I admire that in a man.” She gave him a reassuring smile.
Max shrugged. “I’m still taking you to Moscow.”
Volkov nodded. “Of course you are. But after we’ve gotten rid of Tupolev.”
“How?”
“Still working on a plan. I should have something concrete by the time we get there.”
“Where is ‘there’?”
“Where else other than New York?”
Chapter Sixteen
US Route 29, Northwest of Ellicott City
Columbia, Maryland
United States of America
Volkov and Max rehearsed the conversation he was going to have with Tupolev, then Max dialed Tupolev’s number. The millionaire didn’t answer, and Max decided against leaving a message. The one-hour deadline had passed, and Max thought their window of opportunity had closed.
Then his phone rang. The screen identified the caller as “Private,” but Max knew who was calling. “Mr. Tupolev, you’re a hard man to find…”
“You missed your deadline…”
“But I have what you want, if you still want it.”
“It?”
“Volkov. Three million, and it’s yours.” Max tried to give his voice a detached tone.
“Oh, is he for sale now?”
“He is.”
“Why the change of heart?”
“He tried to kill me, so I thought I’d return the favor.”
“Oh, is that so?”
“It is. His friends tried to free him.”
“And your mission?
“What about my mission?”
“It will fail.”
“I’m okay with that. The odds were impossible; I was only one man. I’m wounded. The opposition overwhelmed me. I’m lucky to be alive.”
“You’re a good storyteller, Mr. Thornichinovich.”<
br />
“Call me Max.”
“Max. Is that your American name?”
“It is. So do we have a deal or not?”
Tupolev hesitated for a moment, then said, “Yes, we have a deal, but I’d like to talk to Volkov, if that’s possible…”
“Certainly, but why? Do you distrust me, Mr. Tupolev?”
“Yes, I distrust you very much, Max, because you remind me of myself: a maverick of a man…”
“I don’t deserve the honor. Here’s Volkov.” Max handed the phone to Volkov.
He had parked along the highway, and had turned off the Mustang’s loud engine. “You viper of a man,” Volkov said in a voice dripping with hate. “You’ve stooped to a new low now, betraying your own country—”
“Volkov, I will not be lectured by a traitor—”
“I’ll show you who’s the traitor, when I meet you—”
“All right, all right,” Max cut in and retrieved the phone. “Is that good enough proof?” he said to Tupolev.
“Yes, Volkov is as hateful as usual.”
“He shares the same sentiment. Now, about our deal?”
“Yes, it will be according to my rules. Where are you?”
Max snickered. “No, I’m not stupid. I’ll bring Volkov to you.” In New York, he wanted to add, but Volkov had advised against it. No point in playing your hand, he had said.
“Good. There’s a yacht club on Long Beach Island. It’s called Brant Beach. Do you know where it is?”
“I’ll find it.”
“When will you be there?”
“This afternoon.”
“Call this number when you’re there.”
“Don’t forget the money.”
“Yes, about the money. It will take some time to put together all that cash.”
“Do we need to call off the deal?”
“No, but I might not have all the money on time—”
“Then, I might not have Volkov…”
“Max, you’re playing hard—”
“Are you backing out of our deal?”
“No, but—”
“No money, no Volkov.”
Max glanced at Ava, who gave him two thumbs up.
Volkov offered a big bright smile.