by Allan Topol
Orlov continued following the script. He stopped the car at the entrance to the hangar. All three climbed out. Maybe, I was wrong, Craig thought. Maybe, Orlov will stick with the game plan.
“Where is President Kuznov?” Craig heard Zhou say to Orlov.
“In an office in the hangar waiting for you.”
Orlov began walking toward the hangar. Zhou was two steps behind him, the aide taking up the rear.
Craig signaled to Carlos and the two of them stepped out from behind the corner of the building to confront Zhou.
Craig watched Zhou pull back in surprise. “What is this?”
According to plan, Carlos responded, “Mister Zhou, I am here as a representative of the Spanish government to arrest you, to take you to Madrid, and have you stand trial as a co-conspirator in the death of Spanish civilians in the March and April attack in Southern Spain.”
Carlos lifted his hand and his eight Special Ops troops stepped out from behind the wooden partition and took battle ready positions.
“This is an outrage!” Zhou shouted in a furious voice. His face red, saliva dripping from his mouth, he turned to Craig. “This is all your doing. And you’ll pay for it. I am the president of the most powerful nation in the world. The Spanish government will never get away with this. Civilized nations do not behave in this way.”
Craig responded, “After all of your crimes, you can’t claim to be civilized.”
“Please come with me into the plane,” Carlos said.
Zhou ignored him and looked at Orlov. “You, Dimitri Orlov. You’re a lying piece of dog shit. Not a man. And your sister Androshka was no better. She…”
Before Zhou finished the sentence, Orlov yanked a Beretta from his jacket pocket.
“No, Orlov! No!” Craig cried out as he reached for his own gun.
Craig watched Orlov raise his gun and level it at Zhou. At that instant, Craig could have fired at Orlov. Could have shot the gun out of Orlov’s hand. But he hesitated. Racing through his mind was Francesca’s murder and the litany of Zhou’s crimes. The fear that faced with political pressure with Beijing, Spain would in the end buckle and release Zhou, rather than try him.
So Craig held his fire. He watched Orlov blast two rounds into Zhou’s chest.
Too late. Zhou’s aide removed a pistol from a shoulder holster and blew away much of Orlov’s head.
Spanish troops then opened fire on the aide, who went down.
Craig walked over to Zhou, lying in a pool of blood, not moving. Craig checked Zhou for vital signs. He was dead. Craig’s long battle with Zhou was over.
Craig checked Zhou’s aide. Dead also. Orlov, too.
Perspiration dripping down his face, Carlos looked mortified. “Believe me, it wasn’t supposed to end this way. I truly thought he would get into the plane and fly with us to Madrid. There, all hell would break loose politically. I just hoped that Zahara would have the political will to stick with the prosecution. But I guess we’ll never know.”
Craig didn’t share with Carlos his fear, vividly in his mind in the instant he could have stopped Orlov, that once Zhou was in Madrid, China and those nations beholden to the economically powerful Chinese government would have leaned so hard on the Spanish government that Zahara would never have hung tough. He would have caved and released Zhou to go back to China.
But those were all political and diplomatic considerations. Craig realized that they played no role in Orlov’s thinking. Zhou had killed Androshka. That was all that mattered to Orlov.
I was no different, Craig concluded. My long battle with Zhou is over. The man responsible for my daughter Francesca’s murder is now dead. He finally paid for it. I have avenged her death.
Washington
Craig left the Oval Office after briefing President Treadwell, who thanked Craig for a job well done.
As Craig passed the secretary’s desk in the reception area, he saw a copy of the International Herald. Craig picked it up.
The lead article in the upper right hand corner was entitled “Leadership Change in China” with the byline of Elizabeth Crowder.
Craig read, “President Zhou of China died yesterday of a sudden heart attack moments after he arrived in Moscow for a secret meeting with Russian President Kuznov. Efforts to revive Zhou were unsuccessful.
“In order to achieve a speedy transition, the Chinese Central Committee met three hours later. They named Mei Ling to be Zhou’s successor.”
From the White House, Craig drove to the cemetery in Virginia. He stood for ten minutes in silence at Francesca’s grave. Then he said, “At last, I’ve avenged your death.”
He would never forget his beautiful, talented daughter. But for Craig, it was time to move on.
About the Author
Allan Topol is the author of eight novels of international intrigue. Two of them, Spy Dance and Enemy of My Enemy, were national best sellers. His novels have been translated into Japanese, Portuguese, and Hebrew. One was optioned and three are in development for movies.
His new novel, The Russian Endgame, is the third in a series of Craig Page novels, following the successful China Gambit and Spanish Revenge.
In addition to his fiction writing, Allan Topol co-authored a two-volume legal treatise entitled Superfund Law and Procedure. He wrote a weekly column for Military.com and has published articles in numerous newspapers and periodicals, including the New York Times, Washington Post, and Yale Law Journal.
He is a graduate of Carnegie Institute of Technology, who majored in chemistry, abandoned science, and obtained a law degree from Yale University. As a partner in a major Washington law firm, he practices international environmental law. An avid wine collector and connoisseur, he has traveled extensively researching dramatic locations for his novels.
For more information, visit www.allantopol.com.