"Warmer." She glanced at a small black-and-white monitor behind Dane. It offered a view of the bar's parking lot, where a single car, a Nissan Z-98, was parked. Kirov crouched next to the car, working on the lock.
Dane chuckled. "Warmer, huh? Okay. How about this: It's been years since you've taken a vacation, and your company's human resources department insisted that you take off for a couple of weeks. But now that you're here, all you can do is think about work."
"That's depressing. You've got me totally pegged. And here I thought I was a unique and fascinating individual."
"We all get lucky sometimes." He shifted position, as if about to turn toward the monitor.
Hannah quickly leaned closer to him. "I'd say you're an excellent student of human nature, Dane. How does your wife manage you?"
He turned back toward her. "I'm not married. Life's too short for the ties that bind. There are too many gorgeous ladies that need my attention."
She shot a quick glance at the monitor. Kirov was in the car's front seat, rifling through the glove compartment.
"I'm sure you give it to them."
"Another drink?"
"Not yet."
He refilled her glass anyway. "On the house."
"How can I possibly drink this? There are at least thirty other bars along this beach I need to visit by tonight."
"You'd only be wasting your time. You're already sitting at the best place in town."
Hannah laughed and stole another glance at the monitor. Kirov was gone.
She drank the shot, slipped off the stool, and tossed a twenty onto the bar. "I might come back and give you my verdict at the end of the night. Will you still be here?"
"I'll make sure that I am. I close at 1:00 A.M."
She gave him a brilliant smile. "Have a nice day, Dane."
He's gorgeous," Hannah said five minutes later, when Kirov opened the car door for her. "He's like something out of Baywatch, only better."
"I forgot to tell you what a charmer he is." His lips tightened. "You're definitely mellow."
"Trust me, if I'm a little woozy, it's not because of his charm. I just downed three rum shots in the space of five minutes."
"I'm surprised you're still on your feet."
She shrugged. "I've had practice keeping up with hard-drinking sailors. So what did you find out?"
"Not much. I found the auto registration, but he used the bar as his address. There were receipts indicating that he often eats drive-through fast food on the way home after work. There was a gym bag with workout clothes in the backseat."
"Which he probably wears to work off all that fast food. Nothing else?"
"No. It was always a long shot, but there was no DayRunner, PDA, or anything that could lead us to Pavski. There was a luggage tag on the gym bag that had Dane's name and phone number. I might be able to use it to get a home address."
"Even if it's unlisted?"
He shrugged. "Eugenia has made me a bit paranoid, so I'd like to stay away from my usual contacts if I can."
"So what are we going to do?"
Kirov turned the wheel sharply and pulled into a convenience store parking lot. "Wait here."
Before she could reply, Kirov jumped out of the car and walked quickly to a pay phone. He thumbed through the Yellow Pages telephone directory, deposited some coins, and made a call. She watched as he repeated the process several times, then finally hung up and climbed back into the car.
"What was that about?"
Kirov scribbled something down on a scratch pad. "It was about getting Dane Niler's address."
"Who gave you that?"
"Papa John's Pizza."
Hannah thought about it for a moment. "You called every pizza place in the vicinity of those other fast-food restaurants…"
"Exactly. When one orders a pizza delivery, the first thing the store does is ask for a phone number. That pulls up the customer address in their database, which the order taker reads aloud to confirm. I only had to call three other restaurants before I found one that Niler had previously ordered from." He handed her the pad. "Let's map this through the GPS device."
"Are we going to break in?"
"Hell, no. Believe me, we don't want to go in there. Think about it. Niler is one of the world's leading experts in explosive booby traps, and he could have a most lethal idea of what constitutes a home security system."
"Then I'm surprised you were willing to break into his car."
"It was a risk, but people in Niler's profession don't usually like to drive around town in cars packed with explosive materials. Too dangerous. A little fender bender could blow him to Kingdom Come." Kirov shrugged. "I might have to resort to bare-knuckled diplomacy to find out if he knows anything."
"There may be another way."
"How?"
"I think he and I have a date tonight."
"What?"
"I told him I'd meet him at closing time."
"Five minutes alone with him, and you-"
"I didn't really think I'd go. I was flirting with him, trying to keep his eyes off the security monitor, and I said I might drop by at closing time-1:00 A.M. He said he'd be there."
"Sounds like a date to me," he said grimly.
"I'll go back to his place with him, get the lay of the land, and see what kind of booby traps he may have in place. If I get a chance, I'll check his caller ID logs on his home and cell phones. Anything else I should look for?"
"This isn't a good idea. When you decided you wanted to play vamp to distract him, I didn't like it, but I went along. The risk wasn't that great. But this is different."
"Vamp? I wasn't trying to vamp him. You said he liked women, and I knew I could keep his attention for five or ten minutes. If I was Cinderella's ugly stepsister, I could have done that."
"But not as well. I'd bet you bowled Niler over."
"He's not that easy. The beach is crawling with women who want to sample an episode with a passing ship in the night."
"But not one who looks like she thinks as well as she fucks."
The rawness of that curt sentence stunned her for a moment. "I'm going to do it, Kirov. You can be my backup."
"Your support team again?" he said sourly.
"We'll use the speakerphone function on your cell. I'll keep it on me, and you can listen to every word."
"It's still a risk. He may be Mr. Charisma, but I assure you, he's smart, and he can be very dangerous."
"I can do this, Kirov. It might get us one step closer to Pavski."
He was silent. "I'm not going to talk you out of it, am I?"
"No," she repeated. "What else should I look for in there?"
Kirov said curtly, "Computer passwords."
FIFTEEN
12:55 A.M.
"What do you know? The pretty lady returns." Niler smiled at her, leaning on the counter. "A dream come true."
Hannah stepped off the sand and glanced around the empty bar. "Does anyone but me ever come in here?"
"Slow day, so-so evening. The place pretty much cleared out after midnight. I might have closed early if I hadn't thought you might be back."
"Pretty sure of yourself, aren't you?"
"I could but hope." He smiled. "Okay, I'm pretty damned sure of myself."
"I like an honest man."
He started lifting the barstools and placing them on the bar. "How was your day?"
"Nice."
"Now that you've had a chance to check out the competition, you must realize there's no place on the beach better than TNT."
"Well, most had more customers than you. Have you considered ninety-nine-cent chicken wings?"
"This is a real bar. I don't need that stuff. And to be fair, you've only come to my place at odd hours."
"True."
He leaned close to her. "And even if the place is empty, you have to admit that the bartender lends it a certain charm."
"I came back, didn't I?"
He nodded. "I'm glad you did. What do you feel like doing
?"
"A drink might be nice. After that, I'll leave it up to you."
"Perfect. Let me close up before some unwelcome straggler wanders in."
He unfastened a coil of nylon rope at a support post and lowered the canvas awning until it covered the front of the bar. He repeated the action on both sides, completely enclosing the seating area. "Alone at last."
The canvas folds of fabric brushed the pocket of her skirt, where Kirov's cell phone transmitted to him on the street outside.
Niler reached behind the bar and picked up something Hannah couldn't see. "A guy came in here tonight selling handmade jewelry. Most of it was seashell-and-bead crap, but he had a necklace that made me think of you."
"Did you get his number?"
"Nah. I bought it for you."
"You are sure of yourself, aren't you?"
He gave her a puckish grin. "Well, if you hadn't shown up I'd probably have just given it to another pretty tourist this weekend."
"I have no doubt."
"It's a necklace. Turn around. Let me put it on you. Though I have to warn you, there's just a chance that I want to get my hands on you."
"You're moving a little fast." But Hannah turned and lifted her hair, allowing him to fasten the necklace around her neck. Niler's hands felt warm and coarse on her skin as he carefully positioned it.
"There. Perfect." He reached over the bar, picked up a small mirror, and handed it to her. "I hope you like it."
"I'm sure I will." She angled the mirror toward her throat. She inhaled sharply. "Oh, my God!"
Six paper-covered blocks and a tiny radio receiver.
She turned on him. "What the hell?"
"It's a low-power explosive device." He stepped back and showed her a small remote control. "I push this button, and your goddamn head flies off."
Hannah instinctively reached for the necklace.
"Don't do it!"
She stopped and let her hands fall to her sides. "Are you some kind of psycho?"
"Not at all. I'm just not very good with guns. I'm a rotten shot, and I always have been." He raised the remote. "This is more my speed. You have half a dozen cubes of HMX-based explosives around your neck. In the trade, we call them bullion cubes. It's enough to lop off your head, but light enough to leave me and my bar intact. I'll be open for business tomorrow, no problem. The question is, will you be open for business?"
Hannah felt the perspiration beading her face. "Why in the hell are you doing this?"
"You're the one who needs to explain. Who are you?"
"My name is Hannah Bryson. I'm a marine architect."
"Bullshit."
"It's the truth."
"Who broke into my car while you were chatting me up this morning?"
Hannah stiffened.
"Yeah, I know about that. I have a hard disk recorder hooked up to my security camera. Later in the day I noticed that my car alarm was off, and I never forget to set it when I get here. So I scanned the disk back and caught your friend. You were the only customer during my first hour of business, and my car was broken into during the five minutes you were here. You expect me to believe it was just a coincidence?"
"We didn't take anything."
"I would've been less worried if you had. What were you looking for?"
Hannah didn't reply.
He raised the remote and said with cold precision. "I repeat. What were you looking for?"
Kirov's voice called from outside. "That's enough, Niler. I'll tell you everything you need to know."
Niler turned toward the tarp. "Who's that?"
"The man who broke into your car," Hannah said. "I think you need to talk to him."
"Are you a cop? A Fed?"
Kirov said something in Russian that Hannah couldn't understand.
Niler turned toward Hannah. "Now, I have to say, I wasn't expecting that. Okay, lift up the awning and crawl under."
The awning pulled away, and Kirov appeared from underneath. "Still up to your old tricks, I see, Niler."
"Never old, always fresh and new. Keep your distance." Niler gestured to the remote. "I believe we have some things to sort out."
"So I see." Kirov walked toward Hannah. "Are you all right?"
She nodded.
Kirov turned toward Niler. "What do you say we take off that dreadful necklace? You used to have much better taste, Niler."
"She had a problem with it too. I have a quick way to oblige both of you."
"It would be unfortunate if someone at the next bar changed television channels or made a cell phone call that accidentally set off this device," Kirov said. "Can't we be civilized about this?"
Niler shook his head. "You know my work better than that. The charge won't go until I push this button."
"Of course. The Great Dane never makes mistakes."
"Too bad I can't say the same about you. What are you calling yourself these days?"
"Kirov."
"And what the hell are you doing here?"
Kirov took Hannah's hand and squeezed it reassuringly. "We've recently encountered another one of your devices, Niler. Four red cylinders at extreme underwater depth-does that ring a bell?"
Niler smiled. "If you really encountered it, you're lucky to be standing here."
"I know Pavski commissioned it from you. He meant it for me."
"I'm not a terrorist."
"I never said you were."
"I only build sentry devices, to protect personal property."
"Like this necklace around Hannah's neck?"
Niler shrugged. "That's to protect me."
"Fair enough. But believe me when I say you're the last person on earth I'd want to see harmed. I want Pavski, and you're my best hope of finding him."
"That's what this is all about? Pavski?"
Kirov nodded. "I can make it worth your while to help us."
"I always protect the confidentiality of my clients."
"Very honorable, especially from a man who earns a great deal of his income from South American drug lords."
"I won't dignify that with a response."
"I wouldn't, either. Those are people you don't want to cross. If they somehow got the impression you're less than discreet…"
"Are you threatening me? Because if you are…?" Niler raised the remote.
"Enough of that. Trigger the explosive, and I'll kill you before the smoke clears."
"That won't help her."
"Nor you, and I won't be any closer to finding Pavski. We all lose. Instead, why don't we pursue an option in which we all win?"
Niler was silent, studying her. "What do you have in mind?"
"Help us find Pavski. Tell us what you know about his plans, his contact information, anything you have. As I said, we'll make it worth your while."
Niler smiled. "I imagine there must be a lot of people who would like to find Pavski."
"Almost as many people who would like to find me."
Niler gestured to Hannah. "Does she know who you are?"
"She has her own reasons for wanting Pavski. He used your bomb as a weapon against us. He lured us to it. I don't believe that was your intent."
"It wasn't. I told you, I'm not a terrorist."
"Will you help us?"
Niler stared at them.
"The necklace, Niler."
He didn't move for a full minute, then finally walked across the room and unfastened the necklace from around Hannah's neck.
She rubbed her throat as if a crushing weight had been lifted from it. Only then did she realize how much she'd been trembling. Jesus, she'd been scared.
"Well?" Kirov asked.
Niler disengaged the necklace's small radio receiver and placed it inside a cigar box behind the bar. He smiled. "There's a possibility I may have good news for you."
WASHINGTON, D.C.
1:10 A.M.
Bradworth rolled over in bed and grabbed the cell phone from his night table. "Bradworth."
"It's Fahey. I reali
ze it's late there, but I knew you'd want to hear this."
"What have you got?"
"We just finished the DNA work on that skeleton. It's definitely Ivanov."
"Christ, I was afraid of that."
"Your buddy Kirov is an imposter. Dimitri Ivanov hasn't walked the earth in over five years."
If Bradworth hadn't been fully awake before, he was now. "You're absolutely positive?"
"They matched it with DNA they took from Ivanov's uncle. The certainty level is something like six billion to one. I'd go to Vegas with odds a lot worse than that."
"How are the Russians reacting?"
"They're understandably curious about who Kirov really is. I'm sure you'll be hearing about it from your Russian contacts."
"No doubt. Damn."
"You've been working with Kirov for years. You don't have any idea who you've been dealing with?"
"I'm working with the analysts on a list of possibilities."
"No idea, huh?"
"Good-bye, Fahey." Bradworth cut the connection. Snide son of a bitch.
Better get used to it, he thought. The guys at the Agency were going to have a field day with this one. The director had already ordered a review of all operations in which Kirov had been involved, and with this final piece of evidence, the scrutiny would only intensify.
This was how careers were destroyed, Bradworth realized. Kirov was his responsibility, and he was going to catch hell all the way up the chain of command. Though at the moment that didn't matter as much as he thought it would.
What mattered was Hannah Bryson. She was still out there with this Kirov or whoever the hell he was, and it might just cost her life.
Talk to us, Niler," Hannah said.
Hannah, Kirov, and Niler sat on the beach a few yards from the TNT Bar, facing the waves as they crashed ashore.
Niler sipped a mai tai from a tall sports bottle. "You sure I can't make either of you something?"
"We're fine." Hannah repeated through set teeth, "Talk, Niler."
"Relax, relax. I've been working all day, and I need to unwind."
"Sorry, but it's hard to unwind when I've just had a bomb strapped to my throat."
"A tall coco loco would fix you right up."
"Niler," Kirov said.
"Okay, okay. I should be seeing Pavski soon."
"Where?" Kirov asked.
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