Enemy of My Enemy (50 page)

"Have you heard from Irina?" she asked with panic in her voice.

"No, and I'm concerned." Rather than tell her any more, he decided to stop talking and hear what Natasha had to say.

"I think we have something to worry about."

"What happened?" he asked anxiously.

"I was out all night with one of my men. When I got home this morning I had a message on my machine from Irina."

"When did she call?" Michael asked frantically. He was hoping that Irina had found a way to escape. Maybe there was a secret tunnel out of the building.

"Yesterday afternoon."

"Oh," Michael said. He felt like a balloon that had just deflated.

"Yeah, on the message she said that she had tried to call you, but your cell phone was busy."

"Damn," Michael cursed. "What was the message?" he asked. He was dreading what was coming next.

"Oh, my God, it's awful." Natasha started to cry.

"Tell me, please."

"You don't want to know."

"Natasha, please, tell me already."

Natasha blew her nose, then continued while sobbing. "She said that she was locked in a closet in the office. Suslov had found out about her and you. She said he was going to kill her." Natasha's cries became louder. "It's so horrible."

Michael's heart was pounding with anger and grief. "Did she say anything else?" he asked weakly.

"Just one thing I didn't understand. So I listened to it three times... and wrote down her words."

"What'd she say?" Michael had the phone plastered against his ear, not wanting to miss a word.

Natasha picked up the paper and began reading. "Tell Micki that Dimitri tricked me. The information he gave me about a single bodyguard has to be false. And tell him I love him."

Michael was touched that Irina had used her last breath of life to try to help him. She wasn't just the vapid airhead that she had seemed. The call made him hate Suslov even more. No way would that Russian bastard leave Baku alive. Even more important, the message confirmed how right he and Joyner had been to treat Suslov's words as misinformation. Suslov would be coming to Baku in force.

 

 

 

Chapter 38

 

Jack stood at the window of the suite in the Hyatt Regency and looked down eight stories at the old town of Baku. The city lay on the south coast of the Abseron Peninsula, which reminded him of a hook extending out into the Caspian Sea from the western shore.

Standing out among the winding narrow cobblestone alleys of the old town with its mosques and monuments was the Maiden's; Tower, a massive stone lookout post built in the seventh century. Behind it were stately buildings and tree-lined streets from the first oil boom, a hundred years ago. Still farther were the industrial monstrosities erected during the Soviet rule, when the land and its resources were plundered and looted. Oil-drilling rigs were everywhere. Huge, ugly, block-style apartments for the workers stood one next to the other—a testimony to the Communists' indifference to aesthetics.

Jack raised his eyes over the polluted landscape marked by oil slicks and factories with uncontrolled emissions, to the lush countryside beyond and the high mountains of the eastern Caucasus, its peaks still snow-packed, leading to Russia in the north. The route of the convoy of nuclear weapons from Volgograd was over those mountains.

Jack wheeled around and looked at Avi, who was examining a map of the area.

"When does Igor get to the hotel?" Jack asked him anxiously.

Avi checked his watch. "In about an hour."

"Good. It's a real break for us that Moshe found an Israeli who was born and lived in Baku before emigrating to Israel... once the USSR collapsed and the gates opened for the Jews to get out."

"What did he tell you about Igor?"

"In Moshe's typical way, not much. He said that Igor's an engineer. A virgin—no prior Mossad work. Knows nothing about the assignment except that he's driving for us. Moshe told him it's important for the state. That was all it took."

An hour later they met Igor in the lobby of the hotel. He was a big, strapping man, six-foot-four with a bulging gut, beefy arms, and a large, round face with a reddish glow.

"I rented a car at the airport," Igor said. "It's parked in front."

"Good, let's take a drive," Jack told him.

Once the three of them piled into the Lada, Jack, who was in the front, explained to Igor what they had heard on the recording of Nadim's conversation with Ahmed. "We're looking for a truck stop at a key crossroads fifty miles northwest of Baku. Can you find that for us?"

Igor gripped his chin in a large palm and pondered the question for a couple of minutes. Finally he said, "I have an idea, but we have to take a look. A lot could have changed in the ten years since I left."

"Ever been back?" Jack asked.

"Are you kidding? My whole family left with me. Why would I possibly return? The locals were nice, but when the Russians ruled they were such bastards to everybody, particularly the Jews. I don't have good memories."

Igor turned over the engine. For the next half hour they drove west to the end of the peninsula through an industrial cesspool worse than anything Jack could have imagined. Oil derricks, chemical plants, and decrepit buildings littered the landscape, polluting the air and the ground with chemical waste that flowed into the Caspian.

"Fucking Russians," Igor cursed. "This was a beautiful place. They took the oil and left this crap behind. The area's one big sewer."

From the backseat, Avi interjected, "Now that Azerbaijan is independent, are they trying to clean it up?"

Igor held out his hand and rubbed his thumb against two fingers. "There's no money."

"Where did you work when you lived here?" Jack asked.

"For an oil company in exploration. It was a cinch. Everywhere we drilled, we found black gold." Igor shook his head. "The problem is, we couldn't move it out of here fast enough."

As they rode away from the sea, crude-oil factories on the landscape gave way to green fields. Farmers were plowing, buds were breaking out on the trees, baby birds were in their nests.

Approaching an intersection, Igor braked and pulled over to the side of the road. "This is the one I thought of," he said. "But the truck stop that used to be here is gone." He pointed to a three-story gray cinder-block structure. "That apartment building is on the space."

From the backseat, Avi looked at Jack. "Are you sure Nadim said the exchange will take place at a truck stop?"

Tired and irritable, Jack didn't like being questioned on such a basic issue. "Positive," he said in a sharp tone.

"Okay, just checking. Don't blow your top."

Ignoring the two of them, Igor pulled a map out of the glove compartment. Again with his chin in his hand, and furrows on his wide forehead, he studied it. "There's another location," he said, and shifted the car into gear. "Let's try it."

Jack was very happy Moshe had sent Igor.

Twenty minutes later they pulled into the parking lot of a truck stop at the intersection of two main roads. There was a restaurant and gas station with a large oil-coated dirt area for truckers who wanted to sleep for a few hours on a long haul.

"This has to be it," Igor said.

"Are there any other possibilities?" Jack asked.

"Not within a fifty-mile radius."

"We'll go inside the restaurant," Avi said. "See what we're dealing with."

"You two do that," Jack told him. "I want to walk around out here and check out the area."

Jack climbed out of the car, stretched his legs, and surveyed the scene. The truck stop was on the northwest corner of the intersection. On the diagonal across from it was a combination office building and workshop that belonged to Spartan Oil, an American company based in Houston. On the third corner fruit and vegetable vendors were hawking their wares. The fourth one was the site of some type of building under construction, with much of the concrete structure in place.

Jack crossed the two roads and pretended to be casually walking past the two-story gray stone Spartan Oil building while he studied it. There were people in the office. Outside in the yard in the rear, mechanics were working with pipe and repairing machines.
This should be perfect for us,
Jack thought.

Walking back to the truck stop, Jack thought about Layla. Where was she now? He hoped they had been able to get her out of France.

When they were back in the car and Igor was driving toward town, Avi said, "A nice woman and her husband run the joint. They open at four in the morning. Most of their customers are people making deliveries of equipment for companies in the oil industry."

"You think they're on the take from Suslov?" Jack asked.

"What's your opinion, Igor?" Avi asked.

"I doubt it."

"What about the cops and the army?"

"In Azerbaijan, they're mostly honest and honorable people. They hate the Russians, who have been trying to control them for thousands of years." Igor took his eyes off the road for a second and looked thoughtfully at Jack. "Still, like people everywhere, there will be some who are corrupt if the price is right. That's the way of the world."

"So we have to assume," Jack said, "when we square off with Suslov and his troops tomorrow, that the cops and army won't be anywhere nearby."

Avi agreed. "A fair assumption."

Igor was beginning to catch on to some of what was happening. "The woman who runs the restaurant and her husband won't become casualties, will they?"

"I hope not," Jack said.

"Let me come with you. I'll look out for them."

Avi responded, "But Moshe said—"

"I don't work for Moshe," Igor told him.

Avi smiled and said to Jack, "I like this man. Let's bring him with us."

* * *

Back in Baku, Igor suggested the place for their meeting with Michael Hanley. "Dinner at the Mugam Club in the old town. They have private dining rooms. You can talk."

"Maybe the hotel's better," Jack said. "We'll stand out in the town."

Igor shook his head. "You don't have to worry. There are lots of foreigners all the time. People are decent here. They like visitors. They'll assume you're from the oil industry. Besides, the food's good."

Looking at Igor, Jack decided,
He's someone who likes to eat.

"Okay, we'll do it."

Jack wasn't worried that Suslov would try to attack them tonight. Even if the Russian knew they were here, he wouldn't do anything now for fear of jeopardizing tomorrow morning's exchange. Once that took place, all bets were off.

As a precaution, Jack and Avi were both armed. Also, ten Israeli commandos dressed in plain clothes had arrived and were staying at the Hyatt, posing as members of an Israeli oil exploration team who had flown in a private plane, which permitted them to bring their arms with them. Jack asked four of them to come along to the restaurant.

On foot, Jack, Avi, and Igor walked along the winding cobblestone streets, up and down steps, past the Maiden's Tower, with four Israeli commandos following behind, until they reached the Mugam Club. Michael was waiting for them at the entrance to the restaurant.

As Igor talked to the proprietor, Jack watched him hand the man some of the American dollars Moshe had given him for the trip. With that they were led to a private room in the back of the restaurant separated from the other tables by a heavy brown curtain.

The commandos were seated out front, at a table near the door.

Jack felt as if he were playing a part in one of the old Western or gangster movies he used to see as a child in Chicago. At this point, what usually happened was a group of gunmen burst into the restaurant and began firing. He hoped that didn't happen tonight.

They drank bottled water and local wine while a waitress kept bringing food: salads and dolma, peppers, tomatoes, and eggplant stuffed with minced lamb.

"Tell me about Dmitri Suslov," Jack said to Michael.

"He's the devil's alter ego in Russia," Michael began. He then recited in a soft voice the presentation about Suslov he had given Joyner that morning at her office, which now seemed so long ago. As he neared the end, Avi's cell phone rang.

"With those things, they can always find you," Michael said.

Jack was too worried about Layla to banter. Anxiously, he watched Avi move away from the table with his back to them to take the call.

Jack looked at Avi apprehensively when he returned a minute later. Suddenly Avi broke into a smile and gave Jack a thumbs-up. "They got Layla out via Amsterdam. She's on a plane now. She's safe."

"That's great news," Jack said in a burst of joy.

Michael became very quiet and still.
I should have done that for Irina,
he berated himself. His face was ashen.

Alarmed, Jack looked over at Michael. "Are you all right?"

"Yeah. I was just thinking about someone," Michael said wistfully. Then he snapped out of it. He was mindful of Joyner's admonition. He wouldn't forget about their objective, but he sure as hell intended to kill Suslov before this was all over.

Jack pulled the map Igor had used out of his pocket and pointed to the intersection with the truck stop. He kept his voice down to a whisper. Anyone who looked at them in this place would think that they were oil company representatives discussing a site for exploration.