The Missing Spy

by J A Heaton

  “Jenny’s smart,” Daniel said to reassure Rex. “She’ll stay safe. The best thing we can do to keep Jenny safe is to talk to Shahriyor.”

  Moments later, the metal door opened, and a man in a blue suit beckoned Daniel and Rex to enter. They exchanged relieved glances as they stepped forward. The man in the blue suit motioned with his hand for Gunner and Walters to stay outside.

  Upon entering, the man frisked Daniel and Rex but found nothing. He led Daniel and Rex through a courtyard in silence and then through double-doors and into the home. Rex whistled softly at the wealth on display as they went up a marble stairway and finally into a long room paneled with dark wood. A long table made from matching wood stretched down the middle. A man sat at the desk at the end of the table. Daniel knew it was Shahriyor.

  “I hear that you speak Uzbek,” Shahriyor said to Daniel. “Where did you learn it?”

  “I’ve learned at several places,” Daniel answered. “Including Tashkent.”

  “I hear there is something that can be mutually beneficial for you Americans and me,” the man said open-endedly.

  “One place I practiced the Uzbek language was near a city down south called Shahrisabz,” Daniel said. At this, Shahriyor tensed and looked up at Daniel and Rex. The two guards by the side of the door also seemed to tense up.

  “The man from Moscow, Dmitri, who came and stole your wife is dead,” Daniel reported. “I know that you helped make the bomb that played a role in Dmitri’s death.”

  At this, Shahriyor’s face turned red, and Daniel sensed that the guards were getting ready to pounce on him.

  Daniel continued quickly. “But I am not interested in whether or not you were part of Dmitri’s murder. Dmitri was only a small piece of the puzzle. The CIA will protect you and give you immunity for this murder, but you must give us information. We need the bigger picture, and for that, we promise your safety. And of course, there will be ongoing benefits for a good relationship with the United States in the future.”

  “I’m not going to lie,” the man said. “I’m getting too old to lie. I’m happy Dmitri is dead. I hate that man, and I’m glad the world is rid of him. But I know nothing about his death.”

  “Are you trying to tell me that somebody else in Tashkent made the bomb? If so, who?” Daniel pressed.

  Shahriyor raised his hand and shooed his two guards away. He pulled out a cigarette and lit it. His hand shook as he began puffing.

  “How can I know that you will keep me safe?” Shahriyor asked.

  “Like I said, Dmitri is a small piece in the puzzle. The bigger picture is vital to the national security of the United States. We can keep you safer than anybody else. We think the Russian mafia is tying up loose ends. But maybe you already know that. I propose that we are your best bet for safety.”

  Shahriyor placed his cigarette into an ashtray and folded his hands.

  “Let’s say, hypothetically then,” Shahriyor began, “that somebody did want a bomb to kill Dmitri. Hypothetically, it was unknown who ordered it, but it was known to be for Dmitri.”

  “Interesting hypothetical situation,” Daniel said. “Surely there is more you can tell me. Will you take Zuhro back now that Dmitri is dead? Do you still love her?”

  Daniel wanted to see if Shahriyor knew of Zuhro’s murder the night before.

  “That disgusts me,” Shahriyor said. “I hate that woman. She was my wife first, and I loved her then. When we found out that a man, whom we knew must be from the KGB, was coming to the facility, we knew we had to keep an eye on him.”

  “Who is we?” Daniel asked.

  “The GRU,” Shahriyor answered. “The military’s intelligence. We thought the best way to keep an eye on a lonely KGB man was with a woman. That woman was my wife.”

  “And Zuhro also was—?”

  “GRU? Yes. We both worked for the GRU. Initially, neither of us liked the idea of her winning Dmitri’s trust to gain information from him, but we didn’t think she would have to do more than be kind to him. The GRU, however, continued pushing the relationship further and further until she was supposed to have an affair with him.”

  “You agreed to this?” Daniel asked incredulously.

  “The possibility for advancement and benefits was huge,” Shahriyor said. “And refusing wasn’t an option. The GRU kept pushing for more. And a deeper relationship. I resisted it, but I began to suspect that my wife was beginning to enjoy it.”

  Shahriyor picked up his cigarette again and began puffing quickly as his story continued.

  “She started to genuinely like the bastard. Zuhro claimed it was all an act for the job. I objected, of course, but I couldn’t say no to the GRU. That would have meant my death. And it would have meant Zuhro’s death. Once she truly did love Dmitri, her information became suspect and useless to the GRU. In the end, I whored my wife out to this man from Moscow for absolutely no benefit. The next plan from the GRU was even worse.”

  “What was that?” Daniel asked.

  “When Dmitri got Zuhro pregnant, the GRU told Zuhro to threaten to get rid of their child. They thought the threat of losing the child would make Dmitri do whatever they wanted. But, instead, Zuhro must have told Dmitri everything and that she didn’t want to give up the baby. Their love for each other grew even deeper.”

  Daniel remembered the birth certificate in Dmitri’s office safe. Perhaps they hadn’t aborted the child. But it didn’t make sense to Daniel to keep the birth certificate if the baby lived to be just a few years old.

  “So if you wouldn’t stand up to the GRU out of fear, how did Zuhro survive?” Daniel asked.

  “The KGB must have been protecting them,” Shahriyor said. “Dmitri was more valuable to the KGB than I thought. The GRU decided not to pick a fight over it. But I can’t be sure.”

  “Is there anything else you can tell me about Dmitri?” Daniel asked.

  “No,” Shahriyor said. “But I am glad he’s dead. It’s all in the past. I moved on.”

  “What happened to the child they were to abort?” Daniel asked.

  “I don’t know. It wasn’t mine,” Shahriyor said. He placed the finished cigarette in the ashtray.

  “Zuhro was murdered last night,” Daniel finally revealed. He observed Shahriyor’s reaction carefully.

  Shahriyor blinked and said, “Like I said, I’ve moved on.”

  The surprise seemed genuine to Daniel.

  “And just to be clear, you don’t know who ordered the bomb? Hypothetically.”

  “The Russian mafia is my best guess,” Shahriyor said. “But you didn’t hear it from me. Now, have I been of assistance to the United States?”

  “You have been most helpful,” Daniel said. He rose to leave. “Your information regarding Dmitri may prove most valuable. I trust this is the beginning of a fruitful partnership between you and the United States.”

  As Daniel and Rex were escorted out, Daniel recounted the conversation to Rex that had taken place in Uzbek. They went back down the marble staircase, through the courtyard, and out the front gate.

  On the street, Rex turned to Daniel and said, “All arrows point towards the Russian mafia keeping the Wolf safe. They must have a cozy relationship with the Russian government.”

  “I wonder if there’s much of a distinction between the two,” Daniel said as they approached Gunner, Walters, and the black embassy car. “But we still don’t know who the Wolf is.”

  “I’ve got a message for you, sir,” Walters said with a raised eyebrow. “A nice car drove up, stopped, and a woman in the backseat handed me this note before driving away.”

  “Nigora,” Daniel said to himself after he opened the note to reveal the Uzbek scrawled in Cyrillic cursive. But before he could read it, the satellite phone next to him buzzed.

  Jenny didn’t bother with pleasantries.

  “Max survived the attack in the sauna,” Jenny reported. “He came out of his coma, and he is singing like a bird.”

  Daniel put the satellite phon
e on speakerphone so Rex could hear.

  “Wow,” Daniel said. He had assumed Max was dead.

  “Max’s handler went by Isaac. Max balked at carrying out an operation against Officer Carter. He thought it was too risky. He thinks Isaac moved to get rid of him when he wouldn’t go against Officer Carter.”

  “Who is Isaac?” Rex demanded.

  “Hi, Rex. How are you? I thought you might ask. Um, Isaac is unknown. Max says he hadn’t seen him recently. Probably several weeks. He did say Isaac knew Russian, though.”

  “Okay,” Daniel said. “Hopefully the name Isaac will ring some bells.”

  I wish I had known about Isaac a few minutes ago, Daniel thought. I could have asked Shahriyor.

  “I’ll let you know if Max says anything else,” Jenny said. “Oh, and Muhammad says a big thanks for that old Russian edition of The Communist Manifesto. He said it should speed things up since it matches Dmitri’s copy exactly, but nothing so far.”

  “Keep me posted,” Daniel said before he hung up and turned his attention back to Nigora’s note.

  “Maybe that puts Officer Carter in the clear since she was targeted,” Rex said. “But who is Isaac, and what does that note say?”

  Maybe Nigora knows who Isaac is, Daniel thought.

  15

  “It’s from Nigora,” Daniel said slowly. “She wants to talk with me.”

  Daniel directed Rex away from their route back the embassy. Instead, they headed to a meeting spot Nigora indicated in the note. About twenty minutes later, they were on the northeastern edge of Tashkent. They stopped among a group of apartment buildings off the main street, behind a line of shops. One of the shops was a large supermarket. Daniel was supposed to meet Nigora in her car behind the supermarket.

  “I don’t like how this feels,” Rex said. “How do we know she’s not leading you into a trap?”

  “We don’t,” Daniel admitted. “If she wanted me dead, though, this would be a bad way to do it. I’m sure she has her self-interests at heart and wants something from us.”

  “Protection?” Rex suggested. “Like Shahriyor? It must have really hit the fan if everybody is scrambling to cover their asses. Is it Isaac who’s doing all the killing to protect the Wolf?”

  “Maybe,” Daniel said. “And maybe Nigora knows who Isaac is.”

  Daniel and Rex left the other two with the car and walked the last few blocks. They spotted a silver Mercedes Benz parked in the shade.

  Rex hung back as Daniel approached the vehicle. Daniel peeked in and saw a female driver and a lone woman in the backseat.

  Daniel got in and pulled the door shut behind him.

  “I know where Billy is,” Nigora said. She had bypassed all the typical Uzbek greetings and gone right to the point. “But I need you to promise me something.”

  “What’s that?”

  “The United States must protect me and take me to America if I tell you. And—”

  Nigora paused when Daniel gave a doubtful look. Daniel wasn’t sure he could promise that, even if he wanted to.

  “It may be too late when you do find Billy,” Nigora warned.

  “Who do you need protection from?” Daniel demanded. “And why are you doing this?”

  “They’ve turned my agents into simple whores. I can’t let them do that.”

  Daniel thought about what Nigora had said. She hadn’t told him who she needed protection from. The blond woman in the driver’s seat caught his eye. He recognized her; the pieces came together.

  “Your agent was with Pavel at the Intercontinental Hotel. She wore a brunette wig. Before that, she was—”

  Nigora finished Daniel’s statement. “In Washington D.C. Yes.”

  “And now you both need protection for the murder of Max, a CIA officer,” Daniel continued. “And who is it that has turned your agent into a whore?”

  “The Russian mafia. I’ve tried to take over, to reach the top, but…”

  “You need protection from them. I need a name.”

  “I don’t know. Somebody else very powerful from Russia is controlling the leaders here.”

  “I can’t promise protection for you and your agent for a crime committed on American soil if the best you can do is point me to the mob,” Daniel warned. “I need details, and I need a name.”

  “I’ll tell you where Billy is,” Nigora promised.

  “Is he still in Uzbekistan?” Daniel asked.

  “Yes, but I need more promises of protection before I say anything else.”

  “What was Max’s involvement in America?” Daniel asked. “Did the mafia want him killed? Or the FSB? Who ordered your agent to kill Max?”

  “I won’t say more until you promise protection,” Nigora said.

  “If I promise, you must tell me where to find Billy, who wanted Max dead, and I also want to know anything you know about a man named Isaac.”

  At the mention of Isaac, Nigora paused before continuing.

  “Agreed,” Nigora said.

  “And if you don’t keep your word, the CIA will hunt you down to the ends of the earth.”

  “I understand.”

  “Okay, I promise that you and your agent will have protection and immunity for the attack on Max and any other previous wrongdoing. Now, where is Billy?”

  “The Palm Island Hotel at Lunacharsky, in room 202. He’s alone. Probably unconscious.”

  “And…?”

  “The man named Isaac wanted Max dead. He’s the head of the Russian mafia in Uzbekistan. And he’s my husband.”

  My God, Daniel thought to himself.

  “I don’t recommend you go home tonight,” Daniel warned.

  He opened the car door and hurried back to Rex. They were soon back in their car, speeding towards the Palm Island Hotel.

  “Palm Island Hotel.” Daniel read the hotel’s name out loud as they pulled in.

  “Great name in a country that is double-landlocked,” Rex joked.

  It didn’t take long to find room 202.

  They didn’t knock.

  Gunner kicked the door in, and Walters followed with his weapon drawn. Rex went in after them, and it only took a few seconds for them to confirm that the room was empty.

  Except for Billy.

  Billy sat upright in the bed and was mumbling curses when Daniel walked in. Daniel pulled the door shut, and Rex opened the curtains. The daylight shone in and made Billy wince as it exposed his pale, white torso. The rest of him was only covered with bed sheets.

  “What the hell is going on here?” Rex wondered as he looked around the room. Daniel had no experience in narcotics, but it didn’t take an expert to see that drugs had been used in this room. Ripped lingerie on the ground indicated Billy hadn’t always been alone. Daniel guessed it originally belonged to Nigora’s blond agent.

  Billy slouched over and held his face in his hands and tried to cry. But Daniel knew he was beyond being able to cry. The ability had probably left him years ago.

  Daniel went for a glass of water and handed it to Billy.

  “You need to tell us who you were with, and what you told her,” Daniel said, gently yet firmly.

  “I don’t remember,” Billy said after taking a small sip of water. “Can I put some clothes on?”

  “Tell us something useful first,” Rex demanded.

  “I didn’t tell them anything,” Billy said defensively. “I never do. I’m not stupid.”

  “Not stupid?” Daniel asked. “You don’t think there’s any reason women would hook up with you other than to ask you about CIA operations?”

  “Drugs?” Billy said weakly.

  “You think a pasty old weakling like you is a catch for any woman, let alone the young and good-looking one I’m sure you were with last night?” Rex asked. “While I’m getting shot at, you’re setting up your next hookup. Don’t tell me you’re not stupid.”

  “If you never tell them anything,” Daniel pressed, “do you think they hook up with you for the drugs? Don’t you thin
k there are other ways for them to get drugs?”

  Billy sat and shook his head from side to side, knowing he couldn’t say anything that would appease anybody in the room.

  “You don’t even know when she left this morning, do you?” Rex demanded. “Or her name.”

  “Her name was Olga,” Billy said.

  “Right, and you told her your name was John Smith,” Rex said.

  “If you don’t tell her anything, then somebody’s blackmailing you, aren’t they?” Daniel guessed. “How long has this been going on? How many women has it been? How many drugs?”

  “I’m not sure when the first time was,” Billy said hesitantly.

  “Start thinking, real hard,” Rex demanded.

  “It was a long time ago.”

  “Whether or not you tell us anything,” Daniel said, “whatever the blackmailer has on you is powerless now. You’re already ruined. He can’t do anymore. So, you might as well take the blackmailer down with you.”

  “I don’t know who it is,” Billy said. “Not exactly.”

  “When did it start?” Daniel asked.

  “1985,” Billy said.

  “Jesus,” Rex said. “You’ve been sleeping with whores and snorting since Reagan? You must have been brand new then.”

  Billy nodded dumbly.

  “Although you’re an idiot and a huge liability to the CIA,” Daniel said, “you’re not the Wolf. The Wolf wouldn’t fall for this garbage. But the Wolf is involved. Do you remember a man named Michael Devers, from the Cold War?”

  When Daniel said the name, Billy’s face turned ashen.

  “We found him,” Daniel said, “about fifteen years too late. He was alive when I saw him less than twenty-four hours ago. But he’s dead now, after fifteen years of detainment. No thanks to you. Now you had better help us find the Wolf.”

  “It started in 1985,” Billy confessed with shame in his voice. “But can I put some clothes on first?”

  “Nope,” Rex said quickly. “If you don’t mind letting it all hang out for the enemies of the United States of America, you had better believe you’re going to keep it out until we get to the bottom of this.”