by Laura Scott
Mack had won that round, taking his buck from her with glee, but not by much.
He made short work of this one too. Staying back, he pushed the apartment door open. Immediately, the telltale scent of death hit them.
Sun put a hand over her nose and mouth as she took several steps inside. She wasn’t as surprised as she should have been to find Allan Stokes lying on the kitchen floor, his throat slit in the exact same fashion Hyun-woo’s had been.
And worse? His body wasn’t cold, meaning they’d just missed the murderer.
Chapter Seventeen
January 19 – 7:11 p.m. – Hyattsville, MA
Remembering what had happened the last time they’d gone into an apartment, Mack stayed in the hallway, keeping a wary eye out for a possible assailant. It wasn’t easy, every molecule in his body wanted to rush in after her, to keep her from harm.
As it turned out, Sun returned from the apartment in record time, her expression grim.
Not good. “What happened?”
“Let’s get out of here.” She hurried back the way they’d come, and he followed close behind. It wasn’t until they were back outside and in the vehicle that he said, “Are you telling me this is another dead end?”
Sun grimaced. “Yes, literally. His throat was slit like Hyun-woo’s, either an act done by the Russians or made to look as if it had been done by them.” She pulled away from the curb heading back toward the highway. “Do you think Igor knows we have Dimitri’s phone and beat us here?”
Good question. He tried to envision the timeline. Close, but not impossible for Igor to have gotten here in time to kill Stokes while on his way to the diner. “Maybe. And if that’s the case, we should get backup to meet us at the truck stop.”
Sun shook her head. “There’s not enough time to get Jordan or Sloan out here. Even at this hour, traffic would make that impossible.”
He battled a wave of frustration. This case was giving him a serious headache. “We could notify the local authorities. Better than just the two of us going in alone.” Mack couldn’t explain why he had a bad feeling about the upcoming meeting at the diner. Igor was their only lead, but he was tempted to tell Sun to turn around to head back to DC.
Not that she couldn’t take care of herself. He was letting his feelings for her mess with his mind.
There was a moment of silence as Sun considered that idea. “I’d have to get Jordan on board with something like that,” she finally said. “The reason our company gets involved is to get the job done without being strangled with red tape. Once the local authorities are in, we’re stuck with them.”
“I know.” He couldn’t deny that her argument had merit. Yet going into a potentially dangerous situation without backup was crazy.
Especially if the Russians had taken out Allan Stokes.
“Don’t you think it’s strange that we just learned his name only to find him dead?” Sun asked. “I mean, who else could have known about the guy?”
“The man who’d hired him.” The implication was sobering. “It’s almost as if the people behind this are anticipating our next moves and going around to tie up loose ends.”
“Yeah. The attacks on us personally haven’t worked, so they’re taking care of all possible leads.” Sun glanced at him. “Stokes’s body wasn’t even cold, we must have just missed the person who killed him.”
Not reassuring. “If the killer is Igor, we’re not far behind him. We’ll have to take extra care when we reach the truck stop.”
Sun nodded. “Maybe you could check the place out on the computer, see if there’s a good way to get in without being seen from the road.”
“I’ll try.” In his experience, most truck stops were right off the interstate to make it convenient for semitruck drivers to get off, gas up, eat, and get back on the road. One way in and one way out.
But it couldn’t hurt. Maybe there were other establishments close by, like a motel or another restaurant or something.
It wasn’t until he pulled the diner up using a three-dimensional map program that he realized that if Igor wasn’t the killer, then Igor himself could very well be a loose end. For all they knew, Igor could be lying dead with his throat slit in his apartment right now rather than meeting them at Gerry’s Diner.
A chill snaked down his spine.
Would the killer be waiting for them at the diner? Or would they get there only to find that no one shows up at all?
Ironic to think he’d prefer to have the killer show, otherwise they’d be at the end of the trail of clues they’d been following.
And no closer to discovering or verifying the location of a nuclear bomb.
* * *
January 19 – 7:18 p.m. – Somewhere over the Midwest
Jarek had been so startled and secretly thrilled by Hana’s kiss that it had taken him several minutes to realize she hadn’t exactly kissed him because she’d wanted to, but as a ploy to avoid being detected.
Much to his dismay, she’d ended the kiss the moment the dark-haired Asian-looking man had disappeared into the tiny airplane bathroom. While he’d tried to gather his scattered thoughts into something coherent, Hana had whispered to him that she was sorry to have kissed him like that.
He’d tried to shrug off her apology, but deep down it grated. Because he hadn’t been sorry.
Not one little bit.
Yet this was hardly the time to be thinking of rekindling their old romance. After all, they were on a mission to save Sun. The daughter he had never met.
After a few minutes, the red light indicating the bathroom was occupied turned green. He had only a moment to prepare himself for her next embrace, although he’d been disappointed Hana didn’t kiss him a second time.
Instead, she’d turned him so that they were hugging in their seats, their faces averted from the man who was moving back down the aisle, allegedly returning to his seat.
They remained close for what seemed like only a short time before Hana loosened her grip. She blushed and reached up to trail a finger down the side of his face. “Thank you, Jarek.”
She was thanking him? He’d walk through fire to kiss and hold her again. But maybe she didn’t feel the same. He forced himself to stay focused on the true purpose of this trip.
Staying alive long enough to meet his daughter.
“Do you really think he’s from the regime?” Jarek whispered.
Hana’s expression turned solemn. “I don’t know. I don’t recognize him, but that doesn’t mean anything.”
“Not to me either. Although I didn’t get a very good look at him.” Jarek had been too distracted by her kiss to even try to get a glimpse of the man’s face.
“We will need to be prepared for when we land in Charlotte,” Hana murmured.
“Okay.” What that meant exactly, he wasn’t sure. Likely nothing good.
Jarek silently wondered if Hana was becoming overly paranoid about the ability of the regime. Not that he blamed her for being cautious, but to think they’d been followed from his condo, to the hotel, then to Union Station, all the way to South Bend, Indiana, and onto this particular flight seemed far-fetched.
Why do all that without making another move? Especially since the Asian hadn’t hesitated to kill Geoff, an innocent victim that had nothing to do with the regime.
Frankly, none of this made any sense. It was as if they’d been dropped into the middle of a horror flick.
Some of what he was thinking must have been reflected on his face because Hana took his hand in hers. “I know it seems crazy, but I believe the goal of the regime is to kill both me and Sun. It’s hard to understand unless you’ve walked in my shoes, but the regime is all about fear and total control. Defectors must die so others will not be tempted to escape.”
He leaned forward to press a chaste kiss on her temple. “I don’t think you’re crazy, Hana,” he murmured in a soothing voice. He hated seeing her so stressed out and on edge like this. “It’s best to stay alert and prepare for the
worst.”
“Yes.” A hint of a smile creased her features. Then she leaned forward and whispered, “I hope the next time we kiss it is because you want to.”
He flushed, feeling like the young man he’d been when they’d first met. “Hana, I always want to kiss you.”
Keeping her gaze on his, she leaned in for another kiss. This time the kiss wasn’t a way to avoid being seen, it was something sweet and heady.
Just for the two of them.
* * *
January 19 – 7:22 p.m. – Pyongyang, North Korea
“Do you have the traitor yet?”
Sweat trickled down his back as he knelt before the Supreme Leader without any sign of his second-in-command. Which was strange, as the second-in-command was always present. And there was still something off about the leader. Something out of place.
But he wasn’t going to lift his head to visually check for anything amiss. “We have reason to believe she’s going to Washington, DC. We plan to meet with her there.”
There was a long silence that seemed to stretch forever. He thought he was braced for the worst, but when the blow came down on the back of his head, pain exploded, followed quickly by darkness.
* * *
January 19 – 7:37 p.m. – East Riverdale, MD
Per Mack’s suggestion, Sun passed the exit where Gerry’s Diner was located. They’d double back and approach from the opposite direction.
“See that small outcropping of trees?” Mack gestured toward his computer screen. “We want to find a place to park at the motel and go on foot to check things out.”
“Got it.” Ignoring the flutter of nerves, she pulled into the motel and parked on the farthest side of the building as far away as possible from where the truck stop was located. She swallowed hard and turned to face Mack. “Okay, let’s do this.”
He held her gaze for a long moment. “Last chance to call in the locals.”
“Not happening. We don’t even know if Igor will show.” When she’d touched base with Jordan, letting him know that yet another federal agent had been murdered, Jordan hadn’t liked the idea of getting locals involved. But at the same time, he hadn’t been thrilled about them heading to the diner to meet with Igor either. Sun had assured him they wouldn’t take any unnecessary chances, and Jordan had reluctantly agreed. After all, this is why Yates had hired them.
“Try to stay behind me, then.” Mack’s voice was resigned as he pushed open the passenger side door.
Yeah, that wasn’t happening. She was an equal partner in this mission not a damsel in distress. Granted, finding Stokes with his throat cut was an ominous sign, but she believed that God was looking out for them and couldn’t function by playing the what-if game.
Mack set out toward the cluster of trees, which looked skinny and not nearly as great of a hiding place as they’d appeared on the computer. She easily caught up to him, and for once, he didn’t look annoyed.
Maybe he was finally getting what it meant to be partners.
The sun had set almost two hours ago, but the bright lights of the truck stop parking lot and the glow from the diner windows provided more than enough light. Dropping to her knees behind the outcropping of trees, she was glad to see she and Mack were fairly well hidden in the shadows.
Mack crouched beside her, his gaze focused on the parking lot and entrance to the diner. “Won’t be easy to decide which of these guys is our Igor.”
“I know.” Sun tried to look for anything out of the ordinary. “Our ninety minutes is almost up.”
Mack was silent for a moment. “I know you’re not going to like this idea, but I think I should go inside to see if Igor is in there waiting. I’m the one who spoke to him. He’s expecting a man not a woman.”
He was right, she didn’t like it. But Mack was right, Igor would be looking for a guy who could speak Russian not a woman with Asian features.
“Okay, I’ll wait out here.”
Mack looked surprised, then said, “Thank you.”
His gratitude was surprising, but before she could say anything more, he eased out from the trees and headed over to the where a semitruck was parked just a few yards away. Using that as cover, he went around the other side and then approached the diner entrance with a purposeful stride. She could already tell he was mentally creating himself into a fellow Russian with ill intent.
Watching Mack going into a dangerous situation all alone wasn’t easy. Despite her attempts to keep him at arm’s length, they’d grown close over these past twenty-four hours. In fact, the memory of his kiss still had the power to make her knees feel weak.
She couldn’t bear the thought of anything bad happening to him.
Even though she hadn’t been attending church as often as she should, she sent up a whispered prayer.
Please, Lord, keep Mack safe in Your care!
* * *
January 19 – 7: 49 p.m. – East Riverdale, MD
Mack held his head high and his shoulders back as he swept his gaze over the patrons seated within the diner. It was times like this that it helped to have an eidetic memory. He didn’t allow his gaze to linger on any one particular person for long.
There were several potential Igors, two men each sitting alone and two men who were sharing one table. Neither of the potential candidates had tattoos that he could see, at least from this vantage point. He slid into an empty booth near the back of the diner, not far from the restrooms. Picking up the plastic menu from behind the condiments, he pretended to look for something to eat.
From the corner of his eye, he checked out two possible candidates each seated alone at a table. One guy was older and looked very much like the stereotypical truck driver, which might be a good disguise on Igor’s part. The other was younger, had blond hair similar in color to his, but was much bigger physically. Imposing really, with his beefy arms and no neck.
And a very interesting red-and-black star tattoo, exactly like one he’d noticed Morris had.
Granted, Morris had far more tattoos than this guy.
He spent a brief moment checking out the two men who shared a table. They were both wearing ball caps and didn’t look to be nearly as physically imposing as the blond dude with no neck.
Of course, there was always the possibility that Igor wasn’t in the diner yet, but he didn’t think so. Igor was there, he just needed a way to flush the guy out. In an abrupt movement, Mack pushed his menu aside, stood, and disappeared into the restroom.
It was a risk. Either of the two potential Igors could leave the diner or the two men sitting together could come in and double-team him. He mentally prepared himself for either scenario.
The seconds stretched into a full minute. Then another. He was convinced he’d lost Igor by his meager attempt to draw him out when the bathroom door opened and the large blond guy with no neck walked in.
There was no mistaking the large knife in Igor’s hand. “What game is this?” Igor asked in Russian.
“No game.” Mack spoke in Russian too, keeping his hands at his sides, ready to spring into self-defense mode if needed. “Dimitri has been murdered, and I believe you are next.”
His comment caught Igor off guard. “Why?”
Mack shrugged. “The bomb, of course. Anyone who knows of it has been silenced—permanently. I have come to warn you, and any others who may be at risk.”
Igor digested that bit of information, the knife still in his hand. So far Mack’s ploy was working.
But for how long? He sensed he was about to find out.
“Yet here you stand, unharmed,” Igor finally said, his light gray eyes suspicious. “Why should I believe you?”
“Don’t believe me, it’s your funeral.” He shrugged. “I couldn’t care less if the bomb goes off tomorrow at noon, it’s good for Russia, yes?”
Igor’s grip tightened on the knife, but then relaxed. Mack kept his expression impassive, determined to get some kind of information from Igor. “Very good as long as the blame rests
with North Korea.”
“Exactly.” Mack offered what he hoped was a smug grin. “Still, Russians shouldn’t be murdered because of this thing. I would recommend reaching out to the others along the line to warn them of the danger.”
Igor regarded him thoughtfully for another long nerve-racking moment. “Why do you care?”
Mack leaned forward, pinning Igor with his gaze. “It’s one thing to do a job for good money, yes? It’s another to then be murdered by the same people unwilling to do their own dirty work.” He leaned closer, risking the blade coming up to be impaled beneath his chin. “It’s not right. In fact, I would like to go after those responsible, to make them see the error of their ways.”
Igor tensed for a moment, then nodded slowly. “You make a good argument.”
Mack leaned back and tried to look nonchalant. “Warn those after you or don’t. It’s up to you. I would offer to help, but if you’re not interested?” He shrugged and moved to the side as if to step around Igor.
“There are two others to warn,” Igor said, holding up a hand to stop him. The knife disappeared into his pocket, but Mack didn’t relax his guard. The Russian was big and strong, it would not be fun to spar with him, especially in a small enclosed space. Mack did better when there was room to maneuver. Big men liked to depend on their imposing strength rather than finesse. In small spaces, that strength tended to work to their advantage. “If the threat is close, we could each take one, warning of the danger.”
Yes! Inwardly he was glad to have made progress, but Mack did his best to keep his expression impassive. “What about the man scheduled to set off the device?”
Igor shrugged. “I don’t know who that is, just the next two in line. You can take Mikhail Yahontov. I’ll check in with Kirill.”
It was difficult to know for sure if Igor was being straight with him, but he played along, regardless. “Where can I find Yahontov?”
Another flash of suspicion darkened Igor’s eyes. “Where did you find Dimitri?”