“And Grigenko is involved in selling these animals this kind of weaponry?” she asked.
“We don’t know for sure. But his name came up. More than once.”
“What’s the holdup, then? Push him in front of a bus and have done with it.”
“It’s not that simple. For one thing, he’d just be replaced by someone else we don’t have as much information on. There’s no shortage of miscreants looking to sell the unthinkable to anyone with enough money. Now that we’ve isolated him as a potential source, at least we have someplace to start. Up until recently, we didn’t even have that.”
“The devil you know.”
“Exactly. But some of this doesn’t sit well with me. I can’t explain it, but it just feels off.”
She twisted to look at his profile. “What does that mean?”
“I don’t know how to describe it. But I’ve been around these psychos for a long time, and this all seems...I don’t know, contrived. It’s just an impression.”
“Contrived. A group, one of many, that wants to wipe us off the face of the earth.”
“It’s not that. It’s just the speed with which this group’s leader went from someone nobody had ever heard of to an international terrorist and media sensation. One day they’re nobody, and the next they’re issuing communiqués and putting word all over the street that they’re trying to get nukes. Oh, and that they’re funded by deep, deep pockets. As in state-sponsored pockets. There’s no other funding sources that would have the kinds of resources we’re talking. While transferring money all over the globe isn’t as hard as you’d imagine, it’s still hard raising it, and you don’t put together billions in a war chest, if they’re to be believed, overnight. Certainly not by passing the can at the local mosque or restaurant. That points to a government sponsor.”
“But something in your gut is saying this isn’t what it appears to be?”
“Like I said. I haven’t nailed it down. Or shared my doubts with anyone but you. Then again, you may remember from your days in the field that we’re not exactly a chatty bunch.”
“I seem to recall something about it.” She smiled. “That, and you say you’re working directly for the director. So not a big committee to bounce it off of and get a read.”
“Normally I would have run it by David. He had the most brilliant strategic mind I knew.” Alan paused. “But since that’s not an option anymore, I’ve been left to my own devices, and I’ve been thinking about it non-stop. I don’t know what isn’t adding up, but something isn’t. That’s all I can say right now.”
“Let’s try that hotel. It looks nice,” Jet said, pointing to one across the street from the marina, ending the discussion for the moment.
Alan pulled into the large reception driveway and a valet approached them to take the car. Jet hopped out and went inside and confirmed that rooms were available, and then came back and nodded to him.
“We can decide the fate of the western world better with an ocean view, I think,” she said as he got their bags out of the trunk and handed them to the bell captain.
“I’ve never been more sure of anything in my life. I like the way you think,” he agreed as they entered the lobby to book a room for what would probably be their last night in Uruguay until Jet had executed one of the most well-protected and powerful men in Russia.
Chapter 18
After getting settled into their room overlooking the marina, they opted for an early dinner at the hotel restaurant, which was empty except for their table. They took their time with their meal, and once they were finished, lingered over coffee, the setting sun creating a dramatic lightshow on the shimmering water. Gulls wheeled over the boats bobbing at the docks in an elaborately choreographed aerial display. Jet stared at them, seemingly in another world.
“She’ll be okay. You know that,” Alan offered, sipping his drink.
“I hope so. I want this to be finished as soon as possible, so I can come back and start over.”
“Seems like you’ve been doing a lot of that lately. Starting over.”
“I know. I just can’t seem to catch a break. First Trinidad, then Thailand, and now this. It’s a miracle that Hannah’s not scarred for life.”
“She seems to be made of tougher stuff than that.” He paused. “Like her mom.”
Jet tore her eyes from the water and forced a smile. “I guess it’s time for Mom to prove just how tough she is instead of throwing a pity party, huh?”
“It’s completely understandable...”
“Maybe, but I don’t have the luxury of wallowing in it. So let’s talk logistics. I want to get everything the Mossad has on Grigenko. How long will that take?”
“Probably a few hours on the servers. I just need to get to a connection. So consider that done.”
“Let’s assume that I’ll need to go to Russia to do this. We’ll need to plan that, arrange for entry and logistics, weapons, technical support...”
“All of which is a matter of time and money. You indicated that you had plenty of cash, so that’s not a problem. What will be is getting through his defenses so that you have a shot at him. He’s living in a new villa he just bought, which is a fortress.”
“There’s no such thing as impenetrable. We both know that. Just degree of difficulty.”
“I remember when I looked at this before that it was at the upper end of the scale,” Alan cautioned.
“My specialty.”
“Perhaps. But we don’t want to go into this half-cocked. You’re only going to get one chance once we’re in, and if you’re successful we need a way to get you out in one piece.”
“If?”
“Poor choice of words. What I mean is, this will require some careful groundwork. You’ll need my help. And my timing is going to largely depend on what’s going on with the terrorist cell. I can’t be thousands of miles away if they’re making a move.”
“I understand that. Look, Alan, I appreciate your offer, but beyond getting me the files from the Mossad, you don’t have to feel obligated. I’m a big girl, and I can take care of myself.”
“I was reminded of that back in Montevideo. Look, like it or not, I’m the only family Hannah has besides you. That brings me into this, and it does obligate me.”
She waved it away. “I’m letting you off the hook.”
“That’s not in your power. I promised my brother as his last wish that I would do everything I could to look out for Hannah...and for you. Maybe you don’t need it, but that doesn’t free me. I know David. If he had made that promise to me, nothing could have stood between him and making good on it. Nothing. So let’s just dispense with this and agree that I’m part of this mix.”
“Fair enough. I’m just trying to let you know that you don’t have to be.”
“I appreciate the sentiment. In the meantime, as part of my digging around, I’ll see what kind of assets we have in Moscow. I’m sure we have a decent network there, so finding a source for weapons and specialized equipment shouldn’t be a problem. But I will have to be careful and use cut-outs. Remember, like you, the world thinks I’m dead, except for the director.”
“So that brings us to where we go next. Uruguay is a small country. No way we can use the airports here. Too easy to have them watched. I’m thinking we’ll have to get to Argentina, and then from there, make our way to Europe. The only problem with that is that the system in Argentina is one of the most corrupt in the world, so we can’t be sure that Grigenko or the KGB hasn’t compromised it, which would flag them when we moved through one of the international airports. I looked into that before settling on Uruguay, and the Argentine clandestine apparatus is as bent as they come.”
“Nice to see not much has changed since the Nazis decided to resettle there. But how would they know what names we’re traveling under?”
“I honestly don’t know. Tell me how they found me in the first place, and I’d be more confident. You know they have photos if they were watching me for days. Le
t’s just say I’m not feeling very confident right now, and don’t feel like taking any chances,” she said.
“All right. So what do we do?”
“We’re going to have some hurdles. I say we ditch the car, take the ferry to Buenos Aires, then take a flight to Mendoza on the other side of the country and take a bus to Santiago, Chile. The border between Argentina and Chile is informal, based on the research I did when I moved here, so we’re likely to only encounter a few customs agents trying to move the herd through. Once we’re in Santiago we should be able to go anywhere in the world – it’s an international hub.”
“How long do you think that will take?” Alan asked.
“Couple of days, worst case.”
“You want to start tomorrow?”
“First thing. The sooner we’re on the move, the sooner this is over.”
Now it was Alan’s turn to gaze off at the horizon. Eventually his attention returned to her. “We’ve never really talked about what happened with David. How he died,” he said.
“No, we haven’t. How much do you want to know?”
“Everything.”
She took a deep breath and then sighed.
“That last week, when we reconnected, was like a dream...”
~ ~ ~
The following morning they rose early, and after a hurried breakfast drove back down the coast to Montevideo, disposing of the pistols in several trash cans along the way. Jet had stripped them and wiped them clean so there would be no chance of finding prints – the last thing either of them needed was to be entered into the Interpol database as suspects in a mass slaying in South America. They stopped at a computer store in town and Alan bought a laptop, and then he dropped her off at the ferry terminal while he returned the rental car and paid for the dents.
Jet approached the ticket counter and looked at the clock – the boat didn’t leave for two hours. She purchased two tickets, and then busied herself in the internet café while she waited for Alan to arrive. She was checking on flights from Buenos Aires to Mendoza when she sensed a presence behind her and looked over her shoulder.
“All set?”
“The car company wasn’t thrilled with the nicks, but they seemed to settle down when I started peeling off cash. What does it look like on flights?”
“There’s a late afternoon flight we should be able to get. We’ll overnight in Mendoza and then catch the bus tomorrow morning, presuming the pass is open. The road runs over the Andes, and if there’s been a storm it can close for days at a time. But the search engine is showing a bus leaving first thing, so barring a blizzard we should be good to go.”
“How long will it take?”
“It says nine hours, but again, sounds like that can change based on the road conditions. Basically we’re going to be doing a lot of sitting tomorrow. Buy a book.”
“Then once we’re in Santiago?”
“We overnight and then hop a flight the following day. Depends on where we plan to go.”
“Sounds like we’ll have plenty of time to figure that out on the bus.”
“That’s what I was thinking. Do you want to try to get online?”
“Not here. I don’t want any IPs tracking back to Uruguay. I’ll wait until we’re in Buenos Aires. How long will we be there?” he asked.
“Just under three hours.”
“That should be long enough. We’ll find an internet café somewhere between the ferry terminal and the airport, and I’ll download everything I can find on Grigenko. Then you can make it your bus project mañana. Some light reading.”
The overhead speaker blared a boarding alert for the boat. Jet paid the clerk and they made their way through the cursory customs area and stood in line waiting for the ship. Once onboard they found their seats, and before long they were barreling at high speed towards Argentina on the huge ferry, the steady thrum of the diesels vibrating as they cut through the waves.
Arrival in Buenos Aires was a non-event, the Argentine immigration clerks having stamped their passports in the ferry terminal before boarding. Once they were on the street, they flagged a taxi from the line and told the driver to take them to an internet café near the domestic airport. Fifteen minutes later they were seated in a coffee shop with dozens of computer stations. Alan powered on his new laptop while Jet ordered coffee and bought an hour of time on one of the PCs, and they settled in, Alan engrossed with logging into the Mossad servers using a proxy mask for additional anonymity.
The coffee arrived and Jet pored over the flight possibilities from Chile, finally settling on a direct flight to Madrid, from which they could easily make it to Moscow. She scribbled down the information and closed the window, contenting herself with browsing the news while Alan went about his search.
It took him the better part of an hour to finish his downloads, and when he was done he leaned back, satisfied.
“It’s a tremendous amount of detail. A lot of it may not be of much help in planning a strike, but you’ve got all the time in the world to absorb it and I figured it would be better to have too much than too little.”
“Not a problem. I like to do full immersion before I go after a target.”
“We share that trait, then.” He glanced at his watch. “Any special requests while we’re in Buenos Aires?”
“Not really. I spent some time here with Hannah before we settled in Montevideo. It’s a beautiful city, but the financial situation in Argentina is so volatile I didn’t want to live here – it’s gotten increasingly dangerous as the economy has tanked. As far as I’m concerned, the sooner we’re out of here, the better.”
“Then we might as well head for the airport.”
She nodded as he powered down his computer, saving the data to a USB flash drive and handing it to her.
“Keep that safe. It’s everything we have on Grigenko and his organization. I encrypted it – the password is ‘Hannah.’”
They paid and emerged onto the large boulevard, cars whizzing by at suicidal speeds, and flagged down a taxi. As Jet watched the driver try to break the land speed record, her mind was racing, the haunting image of Hannah waving to her from the condo indelibly seared into her psyche. She already missed her daughter, and it hadn’t even been a full day since she’d left her. The rage seethed as she thought about her predicament, and she vowed again to take down the Russian as quickly as possible so she could return to the normal life she had crafted with Hannah.
Normal life. The thought stopped her, and she wondered whether she was kidding herself to ever expect to be able to have one. Perhaps David had been right when he’d said she would never be safe. She hated his reasoning, but at times like this she couldn’t deny the truth of it.
Pushing the thoughts away, she considered the positives. She had a jump on Grigenko and would have the element of surprise. The last thing in the world he would be expecting was a direct attack in his Moscow stronghold. With any luck at all, his combination of youth, recklessness, and overconfidence would prove to be his undoing.
Alan, sensing her agitation, edged closer and patted her arm. Without thinking, she slid her hand over and took his, then realized what she had done. Part of her debated pulling back, but another decided that it felt good. In the end, she decided to leave it. Whatever happened, he was right about one thing. He was the closest thing that either she or Hannah had to family, and right now his presence felt comforting.
They rode in silence to the airport, eyeing the shanty town a mere two minutes from the million-dollar apartments of the Recoleta district, the squalor and desperation like a festering malignancy on the city’s skyline, the shabby plywood and brick walls of the precarious structures covered with graffiti, raw sewage running down the center of the unpaved roads. Neither said anything as they bounced past the slum, holding hands, the tentative glow of the unexpected intimacy giving them pause. When they rolled to a stop in front of the terminal, Buenos Aires’ high rises looming only blocks away, Jet didn’t say a word as she disenga
ged, the moment over; yet something essential had passed between them – their mutual aloneness had eased with each other’s company, if only for a fleeting instant.
It wasn’t perfect, and she didn’t fully understand it, but for now, it was enough.
Given her last forty-eight hours, she’d take it.
Chapter 19
The final approach into Mendoza was turbulent, the wind from the Andes gusting to seventy knots in a freak storm as the jet struggled to stay on course. When the tires smoked against the runway, the entire plane exhaled a collective sigh of relief even as the fuselage continued to rock from the buffeting cross-shear.
Once they made it through the small terminal, Jet and Alan signaled to a cabbie and instructed him to take them to the Sheraton hotel in the town center. Tree branches and dust blew across the road, the grape vines planted on the airport grounds torn by the force of nature’s fury. The driver assured them that these kinds of winds hit every now and then but would calm down once the sun set, as if he had a personal stake in the weather’s treatment of arriving tourists.
The hotel was clean and modern, with a casino on the second floor, and when they got to their room they were pleasantly surprised to find it looking out over the lower buildings towards the park that was one of the main gathering points in the town. They both took showers, and then went downstairs to get a restaurant recommendation from the concierge.
He gave them two options, both within walking distance, and they set off in the direction of the park, the wind having diminished to a light breeze by the time they made it out onto the crowded sidewalk.
“It’s pretty cold. I forgot we’re at three thousand meters altitude. I guess I got spoiled by Uruguay,” Jet commented as they pushed their way through the throng of pedestrians out for after-work shopping.
“I’ve never been here. It reminds me of France, strangely enough.”
“Or Italy. Only cleaner.”
They turned the corner at the end of the block and crossed the street with a group of jaywalkers, cheerfully ignoring the cars racing towards them, and found themselves on a pedestrian thoroughfare clear of vehicles. A smorgasbord of languages greeted them as they sauntered past the restaurants and shops: English here, Italian there, Spanish everywhere but with the distinctive Argentine accent that was unlike any other in the world, the double ll sound, normally pronounced like a y, instead pronounced with a lazily-slurred j, and the cadence more like Italian than Spanish.
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