Shadow Zone (11 page)

“I don’t know,” Hannah said. “I haven’t seen or heard from him in over two months. But he killed two men in Venice last week, so he can’t be doing too badly.”

“Oh, that’s a relief,” Eugenia said dryly. “But I thought those days were behind him.”

“Old habits die hard, I guess.” Hannah held her cup with both hands and took another sip. “I’d like to say it has nothing to do with me, but it does.”

“Ah, but Kirov has everything to do with you.” Eugenia smiled. “I was very interested in watching the interaction between you. You were fighting it all the way, but you found Kirov very sexy. Yes?”

She should have known that Eugenia would jump straight to the personal aspect. Hell, yes, she found Kirov sexy, but she wasn’t about to discuss it. “That’s not what I meant. What disturbs me is that I know it had something to do with my project at Marinth.”

“Oh, yes, Marinth. I watched that special on the Discovery Channel. Fascinating.”

“I’ve been at the site for the past several weeks. Kirov was supposed to be there with me, but he took off with no explanation just before we left.”

“That sounds like him.” She made a face. “Kirov has a way of dropping in and out of his friends’ lives without notice.”

Hannah nodded. “So I’ve found.”

“With you, though . . . It’s different.” Eugenia bit her lip. “You’re special to him. I didn’t know him when he was married, but I’ve never seen him behave with anyone the way he does you. He’s very careful about giving too much of himself.”

“I noticed,” Hannah said.

“But then you’re a very private person, too, Hannah. I imagine the two of you coming together would be like trying to break into a Swiss bank.” She threw back her head and laughed. “I admit I would like to see it. I’m not usually a voyeur, but there is always an exception.”

She had to deflect Eugenia and head her in the direction she wanted her to travel. “I admit Kirov and I formed a certain attachment. How could I help it? He helped me at a time when I was at my lowest point after my brother died. But this isn’t about any personal relations. It’s about Marinth. Kirov may be over his head this time, and if it involves Marinth, it also involves me.”

Eugenia smiled. “I sincerely doubt that Kirov is over his head. He’s quite good at taking control of situations.”

“For God’s sake, he’s not Superman.”

“Do you know, I never found Superman interesting. Too pure.”

“Eugenia, listen to me. I understand there’s someone else in the mix. A man named Gadaire.”

Eugenia’s eyes narrowed. “
Vincent
Gadaire?”

“You know him?”

“Not personally, but I see why you might be worried. Where does he fit into this?”

At last, she had Eugenia focused, Hannah thought with relief. She quickly told her about the recent Marinth discovery, its theft, and the previous evening’s visit by the U.S. agent.

After she finished, Eugenia was quiet for a long moment, lost in thought. She finally looked up. “Before he left, did Kirov have access to any special information about Marinth?”

“He had access to the same materials I did. Which is to say nothing that hasn’t already appeared in thousands of books, articles, and documentaries.”

“There must have been something else that set him off.” Eugenia shook her head. “Why are you here? Why did you come to me?”

Hannah moved to the edge of her seat. “I need you to help me find Kirov. I need to know what’s going on, and I need to get that artifact back. And despite what you think about his control of the situation, he needs help. Between Gadaire, the Feds, and whoever else he’s crossed, Kirov is in deep trouble. He’s wanted for murder.”

“If what you say is true, he killed those men to save another man’s life. He may not be charged.”

“And then again he may. The Defense Intelligence Agency wants him, and that would be an excellent tool for manipulation. At any rate, he’s still being hunted for it. You know him much better than I do. The people he knows, the way he operates . . . Will you help me find him?”

Eugenia was silent again. “But what if Kirov doesn’t want to be found?”

“Even by me?”

“Especially by you. I’d guess that’s why he hasn’t been in touch. He doesn’t want to put you in danger. He also probably knew that the authorities would come to you looking for him, and this way you didn’t have to lie to them.”

“Or give him up?”

“You and I both know you wouldn’t have done that. I’m sure Kirov knows it, too.”

No, she owed Kirov too much. But that didn’t mean she was feeling anything but extreme annoyance toward him at the moment. “You’re right, I’d want to deal with Kirov myself. But, dammit, I can’t do it if I can’t find him. I need your help, Eugenia. Please.”

Eugenia looked away. “You’re putting me in an awkward position. I owe Kirov my life, and my loyalties have to be with him. And if I were to guess what he wants, it’s that you stay as far away from him right now as you possibly can.”

It was the answer she expected, but she couldn’t accept it. “Eugenia, I’m involved in this whether he wants me to be or not. My communications have been monitored, I’ve had government agents boarding my boat, a priceless artifact has been hijacked . . . I don’t understand any of it, but I believe Kirov does. Don’t you think I deserve an explanation?”

Eugenia did not reply.

She threw in the one argument to which she knew Eugenia would respond. “And Kirov may need help.
Our
help. And I need to know whatever you can tell me about Gadaire. I take it he’s someone we should be worried about?”

Eugenia nodded. “Oh, yes, he most definitely is.”

“Then don’t do this for me. Do it for Kirov. And if we find him, and he tells me to go to hell, I’ll go home.”

Eugenia’s brows arched skeptically. “Just like that.”

“Well, maybe after I get some answers.” Hannah put her hand on Eugenia’s. “Will you do it, Eugenia?”

Eugenia let out a long breath. “Kirov will be furious with us, you know that?”

Hope soared within her. “I don’t doubt it. Are you saying you’ll help me?”

“Yes.” A brilliant smile lit her face. “I’ve been bored. I need a challenge. Let’s find that stubborn, secretive son of a bitch.”

Paris, France
Rue de Rivoli

Ah, Anna . . .

Beautiful as ever, Gadaire thought as he caught sight of Anna Devareau standing waiting for him on the sidewalk near the Café Marly. She was wearing a short black skirt that showed off her long, tanned legs. In the thirty seconds it took him to reach her, he counted at least a half dozen passersby—both male and female—who felt compelled to turn and catch another glimpse of this woman with long dark hair, full lips, and sparkling green eyes. He felt the familiar surge of lust. He was never more turned on than when he saw others admiring his Anna.

He stopped at the curb, and she climbed into the passenger seat of his Mercedes.

She smiled. “You’re late. No driver today?”

He kissed her and continued driving. “No. I had a few sensitive phone calls to make on the way, and I didn’t need anyone listening. How did your meeting go?”

“Good. Dr. Hollis has agreed to do everything we need him to do. It didn’t take much prodding after I offered him the money. He’s a fanatic about anything relating to Marinth, and you’re right, he feels very competitive toward Melis Nemid. He’s excited to know that he can look at that trellis before she has a chance at it.”

“But you made it clear he can’t discuss it with anyone?”

“Of course. And I made sure no other employees were present at his office at the Louvre.” She tilted her head. “But once he’s examined the trellis, you don’t really think he’ll keep his mouth shut, do you?”

Gadaire shot her a sideways glance.

She smiled. “Ah, it’s going to be one of
those
jobs? You didn’t tell me. Am I going to get a bonus?”

“Why should I bother? You like it. Who was it who insisted on going into that Customs warehouse in Tenerife? You should pay me.” He turned left at the corner. “Once we’re finished with him, it shouldn’t be too difficult to get him to take you someplace out of the way.”

She laughed. “Someplace secret, someplace remote, someplace he won’t be telling anyone about . . . He is a married man, after all.”

“You don’t anticipate a problem with him?”

“I rarely have problems in that area.”

“I know.”

“It wouldn’t have taken much encouragement for him to jump me right there in his office in the Louvre. When he’s given you what you need, let me know. I’ll take him into the countryside and dispose of him.” She leaned forward, brushed her lips across his cheek, and whispered, “Unless you want to come along and watch. I don’t mind screwing him before I kill him. I know you like that sometimes. Remember Mordalen?”

“Yes.” He could feel himself getting hard as he recalled that night when he’d ordered her to kill Lew Mordalen, one of his competitors in an arms deal. He had been filled with power as he had stood over them and ordered her to perform every variety of the sexual act on Mordalen. Then as a climax he had ordered her to cut the bastard’s throat. She had not hesitated and when she had come to him only minutes later, her body had been covered with blood. She had been wild that night, and the term bloodlust had taken on a new meaning.

“You’re thinking about it.” She reached out and slowly rubbed him. “Anything you want. You know that, Vincent. I only want to please you.”

Yes, he knew she was willing to do anything he wanted because it was what she also wanted. He had never met a woman who was more sexual or more lethal. Anna had no sense of right or wrong, but only what gave her pleasure. She could be totally reckless, and there had been moments when he had even felt a hint of trepidation at some of her suggestions. But excitement always overcame any reluctance. As it was doing now.

“We’ll see.” He put his hand on her knee. “It might be amusing.”

“I’ll make sure it is.” She leaned back in her seat. “So, have you thought about where you’re taking me to dinner, darling?”

Brooklyn, New York

Hannah walked with Eugenia down Meserole Street in Brooklyn’s Greenpoint neighborhood. The street was lined with small family-owned shops, which were now mostly closed, though the few restaurants were packed. Sharp odors wafted from the dining establishments and hung in the humid evening air.

“You think your contact down here can help us?” Hannah said.

“One thing I know about Kirov is that he always carries a firearm. He feels naked without it. But he almost never travels across borders with one since that would make it too easy for governments to detain him at airports and railway stations.”

“I can see that any number of governments would be eager for an excuse to close their borders to him.”

“They are. That means he has to buy a gun wherever he goes. Fortunately, I know some of his sources. If Kirov has recently contacted one of them, I might be able to find out where he is.”

“Then why are we here? Shouldn’t you be calling someone overseas?”

“I will be. Kirov’s favorite contact is based in Rome, and this man can arrange transactions pretty much anywhere in Europe. But the only way we can call him is through a computer in the back room of his brother’s store. That’s it up ahead.”

“Couldn’t he just buy a disposable cell phone?”

Eugenia smiled. “You
are
an amateur, aren’t you? If he tried that, the Italian authorities would zero in on him in no time. He uses custom software to scramble Internet telephone calls from several stations around the world. If his system doesn’t recognize the IP address of his brother’s broadband connection or one of the others, the call doesn’t come even close to going through.”

Hannah grimaced. “I’m still getting up to speed on this business.”

“Trust me, there are some things you’re better off not knowing.”

They approached a small store with red-painted lettering in the front window that read
GORECKI’S BICYCLE SALES AND REPAIR
. Although a
CLOSED
sign was displayed on the front door, they could see a bald middle-aged man at a workbench in the middle of the store. A cigarette protruded from his lips as he balanced a bicycle’s rear wheel.

Eugenia rapped on the front window, and the man’s annoyed look quickly gave way to an expression of eagerness. He ran to the door, unlocked it, and pulled it open. “Eugenia, my dear! You have made my day, my week, my month . . . Why do you never come to see me?”

Eugenia hugged him. “The Brooklyn Bridge goes both ways, Ed. Good to see you.”

He stepped back and looked at Hannah. “And who is your lovely friend?”

“Hannah Bryson, this is Edmund Gorecki.”

“Ed, please,” he said.

Hannah smiled. Ed still hadn’t taken the cigarette from his lips, making his voice sound like a bad ventriloquist struggling to keep his lips still. Yet somehow, the man’s warmth and excitement managed to come through. “Nice to meet you, Ed.”

Eugenia lowered her voice. “Are you alone here?”

Ed nodded.

“I need to call your brother.”

“Of course. But you realize that it’s very late there.”

“This can’t wait. It’s important I talk to him right away.”

“For you, Eugenia, I’m sure he won’t mind. Come this way.”

They followed Ed to the back room, which was a miniwarehouse of bicycle parts packaged in plastic bags and hung from pegboard hooks. Ed walked over to a desktop computer, where he picked up a headset and handed it to Eugenia. She adjusted the earpiece and microphone while he opened a software application and keyed in a series of numbers.

After a moment, Hannah was startled to hear Eugenia speaking rapid-fire Polish into the headset. Ed chuckled as he saw her reaction, and said quietly, “You’re surprised.”

Hannah nodded as they stepped away from the computer. “Yes, but of course Eugenia surprises me quite a bit.”

Ed finally removed the cigarette from his mouth. “She speaks like a native. If I didn’t know better, I’d say she grew up in my neighborhood in Warsaw. She picks up languages as easily as most people pick up bad habits.” He tapped his ears. “Language lessons on her iPod.”