by Dale Brown
Anthony Scorcelli, Jr., was searched, had his I. checked and
was electronically scanned for weapons as well as by teams of
bomb dogs. He went through one metal detector at the entrance,
Soo DALE BROWN
one before getting into the elevator and one before getting near
Maraklov's room. After the last machine he was carefully pat-
searched and sniffed over by an explosives dog as his name and
I. were checked once again.
"No gun?" the Air Force soldier asked. "Doesn't the DIA
carry guns?
"I don't chase bad guys," Scorcelli told him. "I wait until
they're in custody, surrounded by blue-shirts. What do I need a
gun for?"
"He checks," another guard said. The pat-search revealed a
few pens-the guards even pushed the plungers on them and
scribbled circles on a sheet of paper to make sure they worked-
a small notebook, an appointment book with a credit-card-sized
computer inside, wallet with seven dollars in it and a set of car
keys from a rental car agency. "He's okay."
"What are you doing here this late?" the second guard asked,
taking a sip of coffee as Scorcelli retrieved his belongings.
"First opportunity the DIA's had to interview him," Scorcelli
said. The first guard consulted his log to double-check that fact-
he was the first DIA representative here today. "This is the.
CIA's and the Air Force's ballgarne. We just want to see what
the guy has to say. I understand he wants to make a deal."
"Go ahead," the guard said. "Twenty minutes, max. Doc-
tor's orders
Scorcelli entered Maraklov's room and closed the door-and
was immediately grabbed from behind by another guard. "You
scared the crap out of me," Scorcelli said.
"Sorry," was all the guard said, but he didn't loosen his grip.
-talkie the guard car-
Scorcelli then heard two beeps on a walkie
ried on his belt, and the guard replied with two beeps of his
own. Finally the guard released him. "Go ahead, sir."
forgot what I was going to
"Man, with all these searches I
ask this guy," Scorcelli said - The guard smiled and walked back
to his seat on the far side of the roorn.
"Where's our friend?"
"Taking a leak," the guard said. He got up and knocked on
the door to the adjacent bathroom. "Someone to see you."
"I'll be out in a minute," Maraklov called from inside the
bathroom.
"He doesn't sound like a Russian to me," Scorcelli said.
DAY OF THE CHEETAH 501
"He's a Russian, all right. He says he's been trained to act
like an American. Can you believe it?"
I 'Sounds weird." Scorcelli unbuttoned his jacket, then pulled
Out the small notebook and a pen. He was about to write some-
thing when he looked up at the floor beside a sofa near the wall.
"You got rats in here."
When the guard walked in front of Scorcelli to check for rats,
Scorcelli jabbed the point of the pen into his neck. The guard
was conscious just long enough to reach up to his neck, then
instantly fell asleep. Scorcelli lowered him to the floor, dragged
him out of sight, then took his sidearm from his holster. Hiding
behind the bathroom door, Scorcelli took the second pen from
his shirt pocket, twisted the cap and pressed the pocket-clip.
When Maraklov emerged from the bathroom, Scorcelli
reached around behind him, grabbed his chin with his left hand,
pulled his head over to the left to expose his neck and pressed
in the point of the pen. When he depressed a plunger, a one-
inch long needle shot out and injected its contents directly into
Maraklov's carotid artery.
Maraklov managed to push Scorcelli away, but the poison was
already starting to take effect. He sagged to his knees, trying
but unable to call for help. He strained to focus his eyes on
Scorcelli. "What . . . who are you?"
"Don't you remember, buddy?" Scorcelli said. "JC.'mon, you
remember.
Maraklov shook his head.
"You're a smart guy, Ken. You remember. I'll give you a hint.
We went to school together." Maraklovs eyes suddenly opened,
and he struggled to get to his feet. Scorcelli put a hand on his
shoulder, and in Maraklov's weakened condition it was easy to
hold him steady.
"I'm your old buddy, Tony Scorcelli, " the DIA "agent" said.
"Remember? We played softball together. I'll never forget that
last game we played, Ken, the one we played just before you
went to Hawaii. You got me busted back after that little scuffle,
did you know that? I wanted to go to law school in the United
States. But after that fight, Roberts busted me back and I ended
up in a nowhere little job in the DIA pushing papers."
Maraklov tried to rise again but was too weak. "But I got an
interesting call from my handler the other day, and guess what?
The KGB wants my old buddy Ken James dead. It seems he
502 DALE BROWN
began spilling his guts to the Americans. Actually wanted to
defect or something like that. Fell in love with an airplane, can
you beat it? There was word that he was responsible for killing
that nympho, secretary back at the Academy. When I heard all
this I just had to run right over from Washington, get myself
clearance to enter your little condo here . . . "
Scorcelli pulled Maraklov up and sat him on the chair. "Sorry
I can't stay and shoot the breeze, old buddy, as us Americans
say, but you've got a date in hell and I'm on my way back to my
Black Sea condo. It's beautiful there this time of year."
Just then the door opened behind Scorcelli and McLanahan
and Briggs walked in. "Hey," McLanahan called out when he
saw Scorcelli standing over Maraklov. "What the hell are you
doing? "
Briggs drew his sidearm just as Scorcelli reached for the gun
he had taken from the drugged guard. He pushed McLanahan
aside, fired one shot into Scorcelli's chest and dropped him.
Briggs checked over Scorcelli and the Air Force guard as more
security agents ran into the room. McLanahan went over to Mar-
aklov.
"Ammonium cyanide," Maraklov got out, barely strong
enough to draw breath. "Standard KGB issue. Scorcelli's KGB.
Deep cover, like me . . . "
McLanahan found the doctor's call button and pressed it.
"Easy . . . "
"No, listen. Wall safe in my apartment . . . behind the book-
case. Careful . . . I wired it. Names of KGB handlers and Acad-
emy grads. Not many but it'll help . Dying, he looked as
if he was falling asleep.