"Are you sure?"
A bullet whistled between them and cracked the front windshield.
Hannah glanced at the entrance ahead. "Is that the bridge you're talking about?"
"Yes."
"Okay." She glanced behind her. "They're closing. Put some more distance between us."
Kirov accelerated, and Hannah's eyes searched on either side for any bystanders. All clear so far.
They roared across the tiny bridge, rattling its wood slats beneath their tires. Hannah watched her side-view mirror. A man leaned out of the passenger side of the Lexus, snapping together what appeared to be an Uzi.
Christ. Better not screw this up.
Kirov spun out of the parking lot and headed toward the main road. "Ready?"
Hannah concentrated on the mirror. As the Lexus approached the bridge, its passenger aimed the Uzi. The next moment the car was on the bridge.
Hannah pressed the button.
A violent explosion took out the bridge and car, spraying wood and metal in every direction.
"Perfect!" Kirov hit the steering wheel with his palm.
Hannah turned from the burning rubble and let her hands fall into her lap.
"It wasn't perfect. It was lousy." Hannah felt sick to her stomach, unsure what was bothering her more: killing those two men, seeing Niler die, or just knowing that such an amusing, personable man had been so willing to kill her and Kirov. Any way she cut it, it had been a rotten sixty seconds. She took a deep breath. "And you need to explain to me what just happened."
"Not now." His gaze raked her face. "You need a little time to absorb this before I hit you with anything else. I'll put a little distance between us and Panama City, then we'll talk."
"I don't need-" Maybe she did need the space he'd mentioned. She was still shaking, and her mind was in chaos from the shock. She leaned back in the seat and folded her hands tightly on her lap. "Thirty minutes," she said curtly. "No longer."
Twenty-five minutes later he pulled into the parking lot of a Radisson Suites Inn and got out of the car. "Wait here. I'll get us rooms, and then we'll talk."
"Why can't we talk-"
He'd disappeared into the hotel before she could complete the sentence.
He was back in five minutes and opening her door. "I'm over your deadline, but I figured you'd like a little privacy, with the security of walls around you."
"Will those walls do any good? Will there be more of Pavski's men coming after us? Are we safe here?"
"I wouldn't have stopped if I hadn't thought we'd be okay. The walls are a comfort factor. I think you need it." He unlocked the hotel room. "Go and sit down. I'll get you a cup of coffee."
"You will not. I'm not an invalid." She ignored the easy chair and sat down in the chair at the desk. She needed the firm, upright structure of the piece of furniture. She needed structure, period. "But I'm bewildered and scared and sick to my stomach. I need answers."
"And you'll get them." He sat down on the stool at the coffee bar. "All you have to do is ask."
"When did you find the explosives under our car?"
"Last night. Actually, I've been checking every day since we made contact with Niler. I never completely trusted him."
"What gave him away?"
"Nothing. Actually, I liked him. I've just learned it's best not to trust anyone completely. After you fell asleep last night, I went down and found that he'd planted it on the undercarriage of our car. I recognized his work and simply returned it to him."
"Under his car," Hannah said. "Weren't you worried it would go off while you were moving it around?"
"It was a concern, but any car bomb is designed to withstand a lot of jostling until it's detonated. I saw the radio receiver and knew that he built it to be triggered remotely."
"You didn't tell me. So when you say that you've learned not to trust anyone completely, that obviously includes me."
"That's not true."
"Of course it is. Why didn't you tell me any of this last night? Or this morning?"
"I thought you wouldn't approve of my method of dealing with the problem."
She looked at him in disbelief. "Dealing with the problem. You mean blowing Niler to bits?"
"I know you liked him. I knew if I kept you out of the loop, there would be less guilt for you later."
"How thoughtful."
"Look, Niler blew himself up. He literally engineered his own fate. I'm guessing that he called Pavski soon after we met. He probably extracted a tidy sum in exchange for handing us over."
"And those devices he told us he was making for Pavski?"
"They were probably for one of his drug clients."
A trap. A trap from the very beginning. "Why couldn't he have just blown us up before?"
"He could have. I think Pavski just wanted positive confirmation with his own people present. He thought he'd killed me on two previous occasions." He frowned. "Dammit, I'd hoped that Pavski would come himself."
"Maybe he had other fish to fry. The cradle?"
"I don't know. I don't like it. Last night's call from Pavski was pure radio theater. I actually would have been less suspicious if Pavski hadn't agreed to the phone call. As I've said, he likes to insulate himself."
"Where did you get the explosives?"
"I paid a visit to Niler's workshop last night."
She stared at him incredulously. "That was stupid. You could have been killed. How did you get past his security systems?"
Kirov showed her a black box about the size of a cigarette pack. "I had this in my pocket when we went there with him. It's a radio-frequency code reader. When he deactivated the system, this box caught and recorded the frequencies from his remote. That's the reason I wanted to go out there. I thought that his tools of the trade might come in handy for us."
"You suspected him even then?"
He shrugged. "That's the world I live in, Hannah. Do you want me to apologize for not negotiating with you every step of the way?"
"Yes. I don't like to be left in the dark."
"Okay, I apologize. But I'd probably do the same thing tomorrow. This isn't you, and I like it that way."
"What isn't me?"
"The guns, the bombs, the killing. This isn't who you are."
"It's not you, either. At least it didn't used to be."
"You're wrong. I was raised to be a warrior."
"Being an officer on a sub isn't the same as blowing up cars. Before you went on the run, had you ever used a gun against someone? Had you ever killed a man?"
He shook his head.
"Our experiences make us who we are," she repeated the words he had once said to her.
"Then you've just lost your argument. I don't want you to become who I am." Kirov went silent for a moment. "I saw the look on your face when I talked about killing Pavski, and you knew it was actually going to happen."
"That was just because-"
"It was because you're human," he interrupted. "It's how you should feel. You might want to kill Pavski, but doing it in cold blood made you back away. I felt that way once, but I don't now. I don't want you to lose that piece of yourself. I want to shield you from as much of this as I can."
"It's not your job to protect me."
"No, it's my pleasure and my privilege," he said soberly. "And I'm not going to let you take that away from me."
"Kirov…" She shook her head. Part of her was frustrated and indignant, and part of her was experiencing a kind of emotional meltdown. How often had she been feeling this dichotomy of feeling for Kirov lately? Best to shy away from the personal while she was feeling this vulnerable. "What happens now?"
"We regroup and take a look at where we are and where we're going. Things have changed."
"What do you mean?"
"Pavski no longer needs you alive. He knew you'd be in that car with me. It doesn't matter to him anymore. I've been thinking about it ever since I found Niler's bomb. It bothered me because it shows that Pavski no longer believes you have any info
rmation that can help him. He might have an informant with the CIA, he might have decided we wouldn't be wasting time with the antique dealer or Niler if we had any knowledge he was lacking. Or he may have gotten another lead on the cradle from the GRU file he got. You were our best opportunity of drawing Pavski out, and it's gone."
"Then we'd better look for another opportunity."
"That's what I'm doing. On the other hand, we have Bradworth and the CIA. Aside from my feeling that they'd be much too lenient with Pavski, I think he has some informants in the Agency. I don't like to trust them with information that Pavski could use against me."
"So?"
"It's time we turned our disadvantages into advantages."
"How?"
"That's what we have to decide." His brows lifted. "I'm open to suggestions."
And she had nothing to suggest. Everything was moving too fast, and she had to digest what Kirov had told her before she could think clearly. She shook her head. "Believe me, I won't be shy about giving you input when I come up with something."
He smiled. "No, there's nothing shy about you. It promises well for other aspects of our relationship." Before she could answer, he stood up. "In the meantime, I'll give you breathing room." He headed for the door. "I'm right next door to you. If you want to talk, knock on my door. I'll order takeout and deliver your supper at six. Okay?"
"Okay."
He looked over his shoulder. "And don't dwell on this. It won't do any good. It's over." He grimaced. "That's no good. Wrong thing to say." He whirled, crossed the room, and fell to his knees in front of her. "Do what you have to do. Feel what you have to feel." He held her gaze with his own. "But what's happened hasn't changed what you are. If I could take it away, I'd do it in a heartbeat. I can't do that." His hand reached up and gently touched her cheek. "And I'm too much of a bastard to wish that you'd never come into my life. All I can do is tell you that I'll shoulder every burden you'll let me. I'll fight for you. I'll give you comfort." His finger traced the line of her upper lip. "I'll give you anything you want from me. Is that enough?"
He was barely touching her, and her chest was tight, and the intensity in the room was thick and charged. Charged with what? She knew he was trying to comfort her, and the comfort was there. Yet there was also the disturbing element that seemed always to be between them now.
He shook his head as he got to his feet. "It's kind of mixed up, isn't it?" He turned and strode toward the door. "My intentions were good. It just didn't turn out the way I-"
The door closed behind him.
She slowly got to her feet and moved across to the picture window overlooking the sun-baked beach.
Another beach.
Most of her adult life had been spent either on beaches like this one or on the oceans of the world. She would have been contented and happy to have spent the rest of her days doing the same job with the same people. Even thirty days ago she would never have dreamed that she would be thrown into this chaos.
She had killed two men today. She had watched a man whom she'd found amusing and likable die because he'd tried to kill her and Kirov. And she had taken another involuntary step closer to Kirov in the midst of all that turmoil.
Mixed up? Yes, her life, and her responses were on a par with the confusion of every minute of this day. She'd just have to ride it out until all the madness was over.
And when the hell would that be? she wondered wearily. She'd thought they were on their way to getting Pavski when they'd found Niler. Instead, they'd barely escaped with their lives and were back to square one. Kirov might not be discouraged, but she was tired of treading water. She needed to see-
Her cell phone rang.
Kirov?
She took the phone out of her pocket and looked at the caller ID.
She stiffened. A chill went through her.
Conner Bryson.
EIGHTEEN
"The operation was a bust in Panama City," Koppel said as he hung up the phone. "The local news is reporting two car explosions within fifteen minutes of each other."
"Then it can't be a bust," Pavski said. "One of those cars must be Kirov's."
Koppel shook his head. "One vehicle was driven by 'popular bar owner Dane Niler.'"
Pavski muttered a curse. "And the other?"
"We think it's our men. They were in pursuit of a vehicle that resembled the rental car Niler said Kirov was driving."
"Verify."
Koppel nodded and started to dial again.
Pavski barely listened to the conversation as he tried to control the anger surging through him. He had thought he had Kirov, but he had slipped away again. He was beginning to understand why his men had referred to Kirov as a ghost.
Damn him to hell. He needed Kirov out of his life once and for all. He might be getting a call from Danzyl any minute, and he couldn't chance Kirov getting in his way.
Koppel hung up. "I can't raise either of our men in Panama City."
Confirmed.
Shit.
"What do we do?" Koppel asked.
"Well, we don't sit around looking helpless and asking stupid questions." Pavski thought about it. "Did you do as I asked you and accessed Kirov's phone?"
"Yes, we went through Bradworth's phone as you told me. But we can't trace Kirov. He must be using relays."
"I didn't expect to trace it. I want to talk to him."
"Why?"
Because it was time. Because he was tired of playing cat and mouse. Because he couldn't bear for Kirov to think he'd made a fool of him. "Just get him on the phone for me."
No identifier on the ID box.
Kirov hesitated, and then picked up the call on the fourth ring.
"You missed me again, Captain. I'd think you'd grow discouraged. Or should I call you Kirov? Yes, I think I will. The proud captain of Silent Thunder has faded into ineffectual nothingness."
He went still. "Pavski?" Of course, it was Pavski. "And you missed me. You're gradually losing all your support. Pretty soon you'll have to stiffen your backbone and face me."
"I don't have to confront a man who will be dead in days. It's very fitting you took the name of a dead man. It's only a matter of time until you join Ivanov."
"Were you the one who tipped Bradworth?"
"Of course. I've suspected you were still alive for the last year. The descriptions I received of the 'ghost' fit you far better than Ivanov. The FSB started investigating after hearing rumors three years ago from people in the village who claimed they had seen a wounded man who had died and was buried there. The description bore a resemblance to Ivanov but it wasn't worthwhile for the FSB to pursue it on their limited budget. I thought I'd let Bradworth confirm it."
"I hate to disappoint you, but you didn't cause much trouble for me. I was already distancing myself from Bradworth."
"It will keep you from going to him for help when I have time to go after you."
"Oh, and what was Niler's attempt? Admit it. You screwed up, Pavski."
Silence. "Enjoy your gloating. I'm the one who will end up on top. No one can keep me from-"
"You're a criminal and a mass murderer. You have no destiny but the same one as Stalin and Attila the Hun. You're going down, Pavski. And I'm going to be the one to do it."
"Such passion. I remember that about you. My officers said that you nearly went berserk when you heard about the deaths of your crew." He added softly, "I did that to you. I killed them. I killed your wife. I hurt you. I destroyed your life. I enjoy thinking about it. I wanted you to know that."
"Is that why you phoned me?"
"Perhaps. And to tell you that sending Eugenia Voltar to Moscow was an exercise in futility. She's going to find nothing. No one is going to talk to her. If they do, it will be too late. I'll already have all I need."
"We'll see. Eugenia is a remarkable woman. She can be very persuasive." He paused. "And I wouldn't think about taking her out if I were you. She's very competent, and you might lose another man."
"She's going to die. I'd already decided that she could become an obstacle. I will find the cradle."
"Only in your dreams."
"You'll see. Or maybe you won't. Unless you're looking up from hell. You still have Hannah Bryson with you. Don't you find her in the way?"
"No."
"I do." He hung up.
Kirov slowly hung up the phone. The rage was still searing through him. Christ, he was actually shaking with anger. Control. He and Pavski hadn't spoken since that last day on the Silent Thunder. Pavski had meant to remind him of that day of horror and failure, when he had been taken prisoner and Pavski reigned supreme.
Block it out. Go over the conversation. Could he pull anything of value out of it?
Yes, there was the information that he knew Eugenia was in Moscow and pursuing the goal Pavski had set for Danzyl. Other than that, boasting, threats, and malice.
And that last threat was to Hannah.
Okay, his cell phone couldn't be traced. He was sure they hadn't been followed. No need to be worried.
Screw it. He was worried. He had to see her, touch her.
He headed for the door.
She was gone.
Fear iced through him as Kirov looked around the empty suite.
Keep calm. It could still be okay, he told himself as he checked out the room. Hannah had been upset when he'd left her a few hours ago. She could have gone for a walk or downstairs for a drink.
Yeah, sure. And taken her suitcase with her.
No note. No phone call.
Pavski?
Dammit, he'd been sure they hadn't been followed.
He moved toward the door. Go downstairs, check with the desk, and ask questions.
Christ, he was scared.
Keep calm. He'd find her.
He dialed Eugenia as he was striding down the hall toward the elevator. He had to warn her that any cover she might have thought she had was blown. He had enough to worry about here without having to fly to Moscow to try to keep Eugenia alive.
Eugenia's cell phone vibrated in her pocket. She stepped deeper into the vestibule of the bakery, pulled out her phone, and flipped it open. "It's a bad time, Kirov."
"Pavski knows you're in Moscow to try to get information."
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