by Unknown
Somebody stepped on Josh’s hand and he shouted in pain.
Before he could get up, a young woman tripped over him, hit her head on the fender of the car he was using as a shield, and fell unconscious on top of him. He caught her and held her up, fearing she would be trampled to death if she fell to the ground.
She was not heavy, but her weight pulled on his right shoulder, which burned with pain as if someone had stuck a hot knife into it.
He caught glimpses of Mariko’s car through the swarm of people.
The Russians were gone. The side door was open and the rear seat was empty. Mariko was still slumped over the steering wheel.
The blue Toyota was also gone.
Policemen ran through the panicked crowd, trying to gain control. Josh pushed his way toward Mariko’s car, carrying the unconscious woman, and stopped in the middle of the street. He handled this smoothly.
Josh winced. The intern was just learning to do stitches and Josh was his guinea pig. The intern’s rough technique hurt as much 226
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as the knives that made the cuts.
The door to the suture room swung open and the surgeon entered, along with Hidaka.
“How is Mariko?” Josh asked in Japanese.
He avoided looking at Hidaka. The surgeon seemed reassuring and smiled.
“She has a broken leg and a concussion. She’ll be fine.” Josh winced again. “Ow. Be careful. That’s my best skin.”
“I’m sorry,” the intern said, and continued.
“Do you always spend so much of your time in hospitals, Mr.
McGowan?” Hidaka asked in English.
“Just as long as I can walk out,” Josh said, and winced again.
“Not like that man you encountered on the sidewalk tonight.”
“You mean the one I killed?”
“Indeed.”
“I think you’ll find he was one of those former KGB guys you’re so hot to persecute.”
“That remains to be seen.”
“Oh come on. I shot him with his own gun.” He pulled the pistol from the waist of his jeans at the back. The intern and the surgeon eyed the gun. “That’s how I got this.”
“A Russian Makarov. I’ll take that, please,” Hidaka said, reaching for the gun.
Josh snatched it back. “I’ll hold on to it, thank you.”
“I cannot allow you to wander the streets of Tokyo carrying an unregistered Russian weapon.”
“It’s registered. Check the dead guy.”
“That’s not the point.”
“Oh, yeah, you wouldn’t allow me to leave Sapporo, either.”
“That was different. There is now a killing that must be investigated and I will not allow you to leave the country until that investigation is complete.”
“What do you need to investigate? You know the facts as Change of Heart
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well as I do. The Russians got the girl. One of them tried to get me and I popped him. Now I gotta try to find the girl all over again. There’s your investigation.” The door swung open again and Bo Tormino barreled into the room.
“What the fuck happened, Josh?” he said in a loud voice.
Josh sighed. “I made a pretty big mess, that’s what happened,” he said, and was surprised to see Tormino actually grin.
“We all saw it on the news. We figured you had to be back in town.”
“I got Mariko hurt.”
Tormino’s expression fell.
“We heard that, too. How is she?”
“The doctor said she’s all right. Broken leg, concussion. She didn’t deserve it.”
The intern finished sewing his arm and applied a bandage to match the ones on his back and head, then excused himself and left. After years of being sewn back together, Josh felt like a jigsaw puzzle.
“Can we see her?” Josh asked the surgeon.
The surgeon shook his head. “Not now. She is sleeping.”
“I want you to come with me, now,” Hidaka said.
Tormino’s concerned expression switched to anger.
“And who are you?”
Hidaka pulled out his wallet, showing Tormino a badge.
“I am Detective Hidaka, Federal Police.”
“Why are you arresting this man?” Tormino asked, as he moved between Josh and Hidaka.
“He is not under arrest. I need to hold him for questioning for his involvement in the shooting outside Lotus Park this evening.”
Tormino shook his head. “That won’t be possible. This man has very important business elsewhere.” Hidaka was not swayed.
“Nothing is more important at the moment than the investigation we are proceeding on.”
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Tormino shook his head again. Josh could see he would not be deterred, either.
“This man is operating under diplomatic immunity. I have a written authorization from the United States Ambassador. Joshua McGowan will be leaving with me.”
Hidaka’s lips squeezed together in a thin line. His eyes bulged out like he was ready to explode. Josh glanced at the surgeon. He didn’t know if he understood English, but he appeared amused by the confrontation. Josh was always glad to have Tormino on his side.
“I’m afraid I must file a formal complaint,” Hidaka said in a poisonous tone.
“That you can do. Now, if our business is finished here, we’ll be leaving.”
Hidaka said nothing. Tormino motioned for Josh to follow and they walked out.
“Is everything you said back there true?” Josh asked.
“Pretty much,” Tormino said with a chuckle. “I haven’t spoken with the Ambassador, but I’m sure he’ll cover for you.”
“Good. Then I need to call Walt. He’s not gonna be happy when I tell him I lost her again.”
“He already called. He gave me a message for you.” Tormino took something out of his pocket and handed it to Josh. “You fly to Tel-Aviv in the morning. Walt will meet you there.” Josh looked at the plane ticket.
“That’s convenient,” he said, and took Valeria’s plane ticket from his pocket. It and the passport were lying on the floor in the backseat of Mariko’s car. “There’s someone I need to meet at the airport in the morning.”
Chapter 11
Yuri Kurchenko was very nervous. He had not heard from Valeria all night. She was supposed to meet him at the hotel only a couple of hours after they parted, but she never showed up and she never called. That worried him. He feared for her safety even more than when she escaped from that prison.
Now he stood at the gate in the Tokyo International airport, waiting to board a jet that would take them to Hong Kong, where they would switch planes and fly to Karakas, Turkey, then board the family yacht on the Black Sea for Odessa. The plane was taking off shortly and the closer it got to boarding time the more nervous he got. Valeria had not shown up.
He decided he would not board the plane without her. He could not bear to leave her behind in Japan. But if she did not show up, what would he do? Where could he go that she would be able to find him? He already checked out of the hotel, but she might go back there and wait for him. And what if the police picked her up? She told him about the trouble she had with that Hidaka. How would he find her if she was in jail, and how would he get her out?
All of this troubled him deeply. He was never cut out for this sort of thing. His brother, Nikita, was much more adept at dealing with difficult situations like these, which was why he took over the family business when father died, and Yuri kept himself out of it as much as he could.
Now was when he needed Nikita’s help the most. He hated 229
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to ask for it, though, because his brother already had so much to worry about, even though he knew Nikita would not hesitate to spare an army of men to find one woman.
Yuri rose on his toes to see over the heads of the people coming down the long, wide hall that approached th
e gate. Valeria could appear at any moment, and he would be overwhelmed with joy and relief when she did. She frequently surprised him like that. It was all a part of her strange profession, which he secretly wished she would give up. Maybe if he asked her to marry him, maybe that would change her mind.
A pair of men caught his attention. One was tall and muscular like an athlete, with dark hair. The other was shorter and rounder with a military haircut. They came to the window and stood beside him to look out at the planes and he lost interest in them.
For an instant he thought he saw Valeria and his heart soared.
When the woman turned around, however, she was Japanese, and Yuri’s hopes sunk even further.
Someone to his left spoke his name and the deep voice startled him so much he jumped. He spun around and looked at the person. It was the tall, athletic man, leaning toward him. The other man, with the military haircut, watched the airliners land.
Yuri stared at him. He had assumed this man and his companion were Americans or Europeans by the way they dressed, but he spoke in Russian. Yuri was gripped with fear that this tall man with the dark hair and dark eyes was with some Russian secret police force from Moscow and had probably arrested Valeria and was now there to arrest him.
“My name is Joshua McGowan,” the man said. “This is my friend, Bo Tormino.”
The man with the military haircut turned to him and nodded, then turned back to the window.
“We’re from the United States Embassy.” Yuri did not know what to make of them. They looked American. The tall one spoke Russian well, but his pronunciation of the words sounded American, at least he sounded similar to the Change of Heart
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few Americans Yuri had met.
“What do you want?” Yuri said.
“I have bad news about Valeria,” Joshua said.
Yuri was tense. This was the news he dreaded hearing.
Joshua went on. “It was my assignment to escort her from Russia to the States, where she would give us important information, with which we would have carried out a second mission.”
“Where is she?” Yuri interrupted.
Joshua seemed so calm and composed.
“I’m afraid she’s been captured by her former KGB controller, Colonel Mironov.”
“I know him,” Yuri said, his teeth clenched. “He’s probably taken her back to Moscow.”
“Then you know where Mironov is?”
Yuri shook his head and Joshua looked crestfallen.
“If he is in Moscow he may be at any one of a hundred buildings operated by the Communist Party. They own a compound south of Moscow that is like a military fortress. Not even the police can get in there.” He shook his head again. “No, I don’t know where Mironov goes. My brother, however, he might.” Joshua’s eyebrows arched up. “Your brother?”
“Nikita Kurchenko. He is the head of the family.” Yuri felt he might be giving away too much information. “If you know who I am, why don’t you know about him?” Josh looked at his companion, who had no response.
“We didn’t know about you. We do have information about you and your family. We didn’t know you were connected with Valeria.”
Yuri’s mouth was squeezed shut. The news was more than he could bear. Mironov had his hands on the woman he loved. She was innocent in this, didn’t any of these people know that? Why didn’t they just leave her alone? Yuri felt his throat tightening and squeezed his hands into tight fists to fight it down. He had a horrible feeling he was never going to see Valeria again.
He looked into the eyes of the American. He wanted to ask him those questions, whether or not he was going to see her again, 232
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what the American wanted with her, and he wanted to yell furious accusations at him for getting her into this situation. However, there was something else in those eyes, something that instilled him with quiet confidence. He could see the American was just as concerned about her. There was no deception in those eyes, nothing of what he saw in the eyes of the men who vied for power within the family.
“How will I get her back?” Yuri said.
His composure crumbled as he spoke and he brushed away a tear.
“Let me worry about that,” Joshua said. He put his hand on Yuri’s shoulder. “I got her into this and I’ll get her out. Promise me something?” Yuri did not respond. “Promise me something,” Joshua said again, his voice firm.
“Yes.”
“Go back to Moscow. Wait for me. If Mironov has Valeria she’ll be fine. If he hurts her she’ll be no use to him, he knows that. She’s tough. She can take care of herself for a day or two.” He paused. “I know you don’t know me. You’ll just have to trust me on this. Promise?”
Yuri nodded. “I promise.”
“Good,” Joshua said. He tapped his partner on the arm and switched to English. “Let’s go,” he said, and they walked off.
Yuri was so shaken he could not believe what had just happened. The fear that Valeria was in danger made him feel dismayed. He hardly noticed when they called for boarding of his flight.
He remembered the look in the American’s eyes and somehow felt reassured that Valeria would be returned to him if only he trusted Joshua. As he boarded the plane and took his seat, Yuri wondered how he would explain that look to his brother.
* * * *
In the few hours it took to drive from Baghdad to Al Hadithah, about a hundred miles northwest of Baghdad in the Syrian desert, Change of Heart
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the jumble of ideas that tossed about Ismail Rafjani’s mind like clothes in a washing machine settled and became more concrete.
Now he knew exactly what he had to do. A grin of savage conviction formed on his face. He liked knowing exact details. There were certain people who had to die, and the first would be Ali Galim.
It was late and the camp was quiet when he arrived. There was no gate and no guard to check his arrival, as there never was. Why should there be? This part of the desert was almost impenetrable. Even Rafjani found it difficult to follow the narrow, winding path that seemed to change day to day, and he had made the trip a thousand times.
A sentry stood guard within the camp itself. Rafjani could see his outline against the low fire in the center of the circle formed by the dark tents that made up the camp. As Rafjani parked his British Range Rover and got out, the man came toward him.
Rafjani recognized him as soon as he smiled. Achmed Jalil’s full set of teeth glowed like neon lights in the moonlight.
“Is everything ready?” Rafjani asked.
He already knew everything was ready and had been for two weeks.
“Pretty as a baby,” Jalil said, still grinning.
It was his phrase. He said it when everything was in order and he was anxious for action.
Rafjani was fond of Jalil, like they were brothers. Jalil was a big, strong, physical man, smart but not too bright, and would not hesitate to kill a man at a moment’s notice. He was the kind of man that made Iraq’s terrorist movement strong. He was also the man who would be Rafjani’s general in his own personal war against western corruption, within Iraq and across the entire western world.
Rafjani’s eyes widened as he imagined the success of the battles that lay ahead. He would not be indiscriminate in his targets. On the contrary; he would be very specific. And his attacks would be brutal. Those from the outside who came to his world to exploit it and leave it corrupted would know his name and they would fear 234
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him. And when he told them to leave his lands they would cower and run and the empires of the new Persia would be restored. It was a glorious goal and God would favor him.
“Then we begin tonight,” Rafjani said in a low voice.
Jalil nodded. Without a further word they turned and walked together into the camp.
* * * *
“Don’t be naive, Yuri,” Nikita pleaded. “We’re talking about the CIA. He wants us to wait for him? That�
��s ridiculous. Either he has some deceptive plan to damage us in some way or he will never show up at all.”
He paced behind his desk, rubbing his hand over his head.
Baretsky stood to one side of the desk, his back to the wall.
“We can’t trust these American spies. They’re the ones who perpetrated Valeria’s escape from prison. How can we trust someone who would do this sort of thing? No, we can’t wait for them.” He stopped and looked at Baretsky. “We’ll go in and get her out ourselves.”
“I’ll get the men together,” Baretsky said, and went out.
Yuri wanted to disagree, but did not have the heart. He trusted the American, but could not convey that trust to his brother.
He knew it would not be easy, but it didn’t seem to matter right then. If Nikita was willing to risk such a great deal to get her out, then Yuri was not about to stop him. He could have Valeria back that night, and they could disappear somewhere together. Maybe the Urals. Better yet, maybe the Caribbean.
Aleksandr Baretsky was so excited he could hardly contain himself. He had waited years for an opportunity like this. The Kurchenko family was planning a raid on the Party compound that night and Joshua McGowan himself was coming to meet with Nikita Kurchenko. Armed with such valuable information, he would surely be granted a secure position within the Party for life. The privileges that came with such a position made his Change of Heart
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head spin.
And it was so easy. All he had to do was call his contact, pass on the information, then wait for the inevitable, disastrous raid and collect the credit that was due. Maybe then, he hoped, he would be done with this miserable Kurchenko family forever.
He longed to work side by side with Mironov and root out the enemies of the motherland.
Baretsky went to his private office, down the hall from Kurchenko’s office, made sure the door was locked, and sat down at his desk to place a discreet phone call.
* * * *
The first thing she noticed was a soft, distant tapping sound that annoyed her enough to drag her out of her sleep. It wasn’t much of a sleep. She felt groggy, like she had been drugged, and she had a splitting headache.