Dance with the Dragon

by Hagberg, David

  “Kirk,” she suddenly called out, her eyes closed.

  “I’m here,” he said softly.

  He covered her with the sheet and comforter, put on his jacket, and let himself out of the apartment, the night very st-ll and very dark under a sky that had clouded up.

  SEVENTY-FOUR

  BENITO JUÁREZ AIRPORT

  The same Gulfstream bizjet and crew that had brought McGarvey down from Andrews showed up a few minutes after nine on a gray overcast morning. McGarvey was waiting for it in the VIP hangar leased to the U.S. embassy. Rencke had assured him that the flight would be logged as a training mission, the crew and passenger list lost in DO red tape.

  The aircraft pulled even with the main doors, and once the engines spooled down, the passenger door popped open, deploying the boarding stairs, and Toni Dronchi appeared in the hatch, brightening when she spotted McGarvey.

  “Good morning, sir,” she said, stepping down. She looked around. No one else was in the hangar. “What about customs?” She was dressed in khakis and a dark blue windbreaker.

  “This is a training flight. No one will be leaving the aircraft.”

  “Yes, sir.”

  “How was the flight down?”

  “Long,” Toni said. “She bitched the whole way, especially when she realized where we were taking her. She’s scared.”

  “I don’t blame her,” McGarvey said. “Get her out here and you can get back to Washington.”

  “Are we done babysitting?” Toni asked hopefully.

  McGarvey nodded. “For now, anyway.”

  She took a small padded envelope from her jacket pocket and handed it to McGarvey. “Mr. Rencke said you wanted this.”

  “Thanks,” McGarvey said.

  “I’ll just go fetch her,” Toni said.

  “You did a good job,” McGarvey said. “Thanks.”

  She flushed with pleasure, and nodded. “Yes, sir.”

  She went back to the aircraft and returned with Shahrzad and a hanging bag of clothing and toiletries that Toni had provided her with in Sarasota from a nonaccountable CIA fund. So far the woman was a nonentity as far as the official Company database was concerned, and McGarvey wanted to keep it that way for now.

  “I’m telling you, I don’t like this one goddamned bit,” she complained, stepping down from the hatch. She was dressed in a short black skirt, a white frilly top.

  “You came to us,” McGarvey told her coolly.

  “What if I decide not to cooperate?” she demanded. “I could get killed. My life’s not worth it.”

  “Well then, we’ll just get out of here,” Toni said. “Good luck.”

  McGarvey took Shahrzad’s bag and loaded into the backseat of the Jetta as Toni got back aboard the aircraft and closed the door. The Gulfstream, its engines spooling up, headed to the taxiway. The pilot waved from the window, and McGarvey waved back.

  “The bastards wouldn’t give me a drink,” Shahrzad said. “The least they could have done was—”

  “Yes, you could get killed,” McGarvey interrupted. “But if you pay attention and do as you’re told, you’ll probably come out of this in one piece.”

  She looked at him, a hand on her hip, her eyebrow arched. “Probably?”

  “Yes,” McGarvey said.

  She turned away and said something under her breath in Farsi. “I didn’t expect it to turn out like this, you know. Louis dead, and me alone.”

  “It’s the hand you were dealt. Now you either play it or walk away.”

  “What if I walk away?” she asked. “What do I get?”

  “At this point it’s either Liu or us,” McGarvey said. “If it’s us, we’ll take care of you when it’s over.”

  “I’ve heard that before,” she said bitterly.

  “Your choice,” McGarvey said.

  “I don’t want to be here,” she said plaintively. “I want to go back. I want Louis here. I want to move to the States. He promised me.”

  “I’ll set you up at the Four Seasons for a week. I can get you a few thousand in cash and an airplane ticket to wherever you want to go. I’d suggest Paris, back to your family.”

  “I can’t go back,” she cried. She looked at him. “I can never go back.”

  “Why?”

  “Because I’m a goddamned whore,” she whispered. “I’m what my father made me. And for an Iranian girl it means no forgiveness. Never. You’re all I have.”

  McGarvey’s heart softened. She’d never had a chance after her father had used her to seduce Baranov. Better one wayward son than a dozen devoted daughters. In places like Iran women were a burden, only to be used and then discarded if a husband willing to take on such a burden couldn’t be found.

  “Then we’ll do this together,” he said. “And you won’t be alone.”

  She thought for a few moments, but then nodded. “I don’t really have much of a choice, do I?”

  “No.”

  “Okay. What do I have to do?”

  “I’ll tell you on the way,” McGarvey said.

  SEVENTY-FIVE

  MEXICO CITY

  On the Avenida Rio Consulado into the city, McGarvey called Gloria’s apartment on his cell phone. Surprisingly, she answered on the second ring, and she didn’t sound hungover.

  “Good morning,” he said. “How are you feeling?”

  “Lousy,” she replied crisply. “Next question?”

  “It was a difficult night.”

  “Yeah,” Gloria said. “Maybe I’m in over my head, you know?” She hesitated. “Look, I’m sorry as hell.”

  “About what?” McGavey asked.

  “You know.”

  “You finally got what you wanted,” he said harshly. “Don’t apologize.”

  “But I didn’t want it that way.”

  “What way is that?” he asked. He felt like a heel. But it was the business. He glanced over at Shahrzad hunched against the door. It was the season for that kind of thing.

  “I don’t know,” she said miserably. “I don’t remember a thing except for the club, and then waking up in my bed—”

  “Just leave it at that,” McGarvey cut her off. “You did a good job last night, and tonight we’re going to up the ante.”

  “I don’t know.”

  “Yes you do,” McGarvey said. “Don’t fold on me now. I need you.”

  Gloria was silent for a long time. When she came back she sounded contrite. “All right, darling.”

  “We’re going out again tonight, only this time you’ll have some help.”

  “What do you mean?”

  “I’m on my way to your place now from the airport.”

  “It’s not one of McCann’s people, is it?” she asked.

  “No,” McGarvey said. “Just hang on, and I’ll explain everything when we get there.”

  “Whatever you say, Kirk. But I think that I’m afraid.”

  “I know,” he said, and he broke the connection. Christ, what a lousy way to do things. This was something that he knew he could never explain to Katy or to their daughter, Liz. But then even Liz had no real idea what tradecraft was all about.

  McGarvey glanced in the rearview mirror to see a dark blue BMW SUV switch lanes and tuck in behind a shuttle bus about five car lengths back. He was reasonably sure he’d spotted the beemer at the airport VIP terminal, but he hadn’t gotten a look at the tag numbers or the driver, so he couldn’t be sure it was the same vehicle.

  When he had the opening he pulled over into the left lane and gradually began to slow down, letting traffic in the right lanes pass him. He glanced again in his rearview mirror.

  Shahrzad realized that something was going on. “What is it?” she asked. “Are we being followed?”

  “It’s possible.”

  She started to turn, but he stopped her.

  “Don’t,” he said, laying a hand on her shoulder. “I want to see what they do.”

  The beemer did not switch lanes, and when it passed McGarvey, the driver, a Hispan
ic man in a white shirt and tie, did not look over. No one else was in the SUV with him.

  “Well?” Shahrzad asked.

  “It was the blue BMW,” McGarvey said. “I spotted it at the airport.” He checked his rearview mirror but could see nothing unusual, simply ordinary weekday morning traffic. Yet he would have bet almost anything that after last night’s performance Liu would have put a tail on him. He’d parked the car at the hotel, so it wouldn’t have been difficult to find him and follow him out to the airport this morning.

  Unless Liu was playing some other game, almost as if he knew why McGarvey had gone out to the airport.

  “Who was that person you called?” Shahrzad asked.

  “An old friend.”

  “CIA?”

  “Yes, she is.”

  Shahrzad didn’t seem surprised. “I’m supposed to help her with what, exactly?”

  “You’re going to help each other bring Liu down, and for just about the same reasons.”

  SEVENTY-SIX

  LOMAS ALTAS

  McGarvey turned onto the broad Paseo de la Reforma a few blocks from Gloria’s apartment, and Shahrzad suddenly sat straight up and gave McGarvey a wide-eyed look.

  “What the hell do you think you’re trying to do to me?” she demanded.

  “I don’t know what you mean,” McGarvey said.

  “You damn well do,” she said, her voice rising. “This is the way to the Iranian embassy. If they get their hands on me they’ll send me back to Tehran for trial.”

  “You’re here on a French passport.”

  “It doesn’t matter,” she practially shrieked. “If I’m recognized they might not bother sending me home. They might put a bullet in my brain right here in Mexico City and dump my body in some back alley.”

  It wasn’t the reaction McGarvey had expected. If the Middle Easterner lurking in the shadows at Liu’s compound had been a regular, she would have met him. Possibly he wasn’t an Iranian after all. “Recognize you as what, a friend of Chinese intelligence? That should be no problem.”

  “Recognize me as my father’s daughter,” she shot back. “They killed him, and they want his family, too.”

  “Is that why you don’t want to go back to France to be with your mother and sister?”

  Shahrzad looked at him, naked fear on her face. “They’re already dead. I’m supposed to be next. It’s the real reason I want to get to the States. I can lose myself there.” She looked out the window as they approached the Iranian embassy. “Don’t you see? God, you can’t do this to me!”

  When they passed the embassy without slowing or turning in, her relief was immediately replaced with anger. “You bastard,” she said. “You drove me up here just to see how I would react.”

  McGarvey glanced over at her. There it was again, the same nagging at the back of his head. If her fear had been real, her sudden relief and then anger didn’t ring true. There was no reason for her to be angry. Anyway, what did she think her reaction would reveal?

  “You’re wrong,” he told her. “This happens to be the way to my friend’s house. She’s just a couple blocks from here.”

  She looked out the window as they passed the shopping center. “I’ve changed my mind. You can take me to a hotel, and I’ll make my way from there.”

  “You’ve already accepted the CIA’s help,” McGarvey said. “How will you explain that to your friends?”

  “What friends?” she practically shouted. “I don’t have any friends. Can’t you see, you fucking idiot? Louis is dead and I’m alone.”

  McGarvey turned at the street up to Gloria’s apartment, the morning gloomy, the air thick. “Louis is dead and maybe you don’t have any friends, but you’re not alone.” He looked at her. “What you’re going to have to do won’t be easy, but I’m not going to walk away from you. I promise.”

  “That’s what Louis said.”

  “We’re both after the same thing,” McGarvey told her. “You’ll have to trust me.”

  “More than you trust me?” she asked.

  “It’s the nature of the business. I don’t trust anybody.”

  “Neither do I,” she replied bitterly.

  * * *

  When Gloria came to the door she was dressed in jeans and a white T-shirt, with no bra and bare feet. Her smiled faded when she saw whom McGarvey had brought with him. “One of your girlfriends?” she asked cattily.

  “Don’t you know each other?” McGarvey asked.

  Gloria stepped aside to reveal the pistol she’d hidden behind her back. “Never seen her before.”

  McGarvey and Shahrzad entered the apartment, and Gloria closed and locked the door after first glancing up at the parking area. She turned back to them and laid the gun on the hall table.

  “Is this the one from the photograph?” Shahrzad asked, eyeing Gloria.

  “Yes. You said you’d seen her somewhere,” McGarvey said.

  Shahrzad pursed her lips and shook her head. “I was mistaken,” she said. “I’ve never seen this woman in my life.”

  “Does either of you want to tell me what’s going on?” Gloria said.

  “This is the woman I told you about,” McGarvey said. “Shahrzad Shadmand. She was working with Louis just before he got killed.”

  “Louis’s mistress,” Gloria said coolly. They hadn’t moved out of the entry hall.

  “I was working for Louis,” Shahrzad flared.

  “I’ll bet you were.” She glanced at McGarvey. “And now you’re working for him.”

  “I don’t have to listen to this—” Shahrzad said.

  “Yes you do,” McGarvey interrupted. For just a moment he considered saying the hell with it and turning his back on the whole mess. A CIA field officer had tried to work some deal on his own and got burned for his effort. Such things happened, not often, but they did happen. But Otto’s threat assessment had gone from lavender to violet. Something bad was coming their way.

  “Your call, Kirk,” Gloria said.

  They went into the living room and sat down, the women on opposite sides of the room, as if they were trying to insulate themselves from whatever they were going to be asked to do. It was an odd moment for all of them, but especially for McGarvey, whose fault was that he was from the old school. He was an anachronism who still thought that women were special, that they were to be put on a pedestal, that they were to be given special treatment, protected, honored, respected. He’d gotten those values from his father and mother, and they ran deep inside of him. He didn’t like bullies. And he especially hated men who treated women badly. His father’s rule from day one was simple: No hitting. Especially not those weaker than you.

  “General Liu is a Chinese intelligence officer who has gotten himself in over his head because he likes to strangle women to death while he’s having sex with them,” McGarvey began.

  “Cristo,” Gloria said softly.

  “I think that he’s also in over his head because the Chinese government is not paying him enough to maintain his lifestyle. He’s run through his father’s small fortune, and all he has left in Beijing is his family name, and some outstanding accomplishments, especially in industrial and military-technology espionage.

  “But most of that happened ten years ago or more. In the meantime he’s run out of money, and now he’s running out of options. He’s a desperate man who’s sold out his own government for money.”

  “How do you know so much?” Gloria demanded.

  “Gil Perry evidently stumbled across some old FBI files naming Liu as a suspect in a series of rape-murders in New York and Washington and was apparently blackmailing the general.”

  “If the FBI did nothing, why would Gil’s threat have carried any weight?”

  “Because to this point all the FBI’s suspicions have been kept private. There’s been no hard proof. I think Perry threatened to make the files public. Liu would have been disgraced and would have been recalled to Beijing.”

  “You said that Liu had run through hi
s father’s fortune,” Gloria pointed out. “He was broke. How was he coming up with the cash for the blackmail?”

  “Laundering drug money,” McGarvey said. “At least on the surface. He’s probably pumping money back home through his father’s old business and manufacturing interests. Senior was a lawyer, but he held majority interests in a number of manufacturing companies that did business with the West, especially the U.S.”

  “On the surface?” Gloria asked.

  Shahrzad followed the exchange, but she remained silent.

  “Otto did a rough spreadsheet on Liu’s spending and the likely profits he was earning from the drug business. Even without the pressure from Perry, Liu wasn’t making enough money. Not by a long shot.”

  “Who’s Otto?” Shahrzad asked.

  “Guesswork,” Gloria objected.

  “On the exact numbers, you’re right,” McGarvey admitted. “But overall the numbers don’t lie. Liu has dug himself a hole and he’s desperate to get out of it.”

  “How desperate?” Gloria asked.

  “That’s what we’re going to find out, because Otto’s programs have gone violet.”

  “Who’s Otto?” Shahrzad asked.

  McGarvey turned to her. “He’s the man who brought you to see me in Florida.”

  “There’s something wrong with him. He’s a retard, I think. But you trust his judgment?”

  “You’d better hope he’s right. If not, all this will be for nothing.”

  Shahrzad just shrugged, but again there was something in her attitude that didn’t sit quite right with McGarvey. But for the life of him he couldn’t put his finger on what was bothering him. She was a liar, that much was clear. But he couldn’t make out what she wanted, beyond the vague wish to immigrate to the States. Once she got there, what then? Maybe even she didn’t know.

  “I understand what we were trying to do last night,” Gloria said. “What’s next?”

  “The two of you are going after Liu,” McGarvey said.

  “He’s got all the women he needs,” Gloria said. “The only reason he’d be interested in me is to find out what you’re up to.” She glanced at Shahrzad. “But what about her?”