Shadow Zone (14 page)

“I love it!” Charlie murmured. “Where did you learn to do that?”

“I bought the software and practiced on my own. I was inspired by a friend of mine.” He had a sudden vision of Hannah, her expression intense as she described the process. She had always been intense, vital, earthy. Even the most difficult problems were only a challenge to her. Hell, every moment with her had been a challenge. Don’t think about Hannah. Concentrate on the problem at hand. “She used a similar technique to create a digital 3-D model of the
Titanic
.”

Driscoll grabbed a dining-room chair and dragged it in front of the computer. “It’s fantastic. This way we can roam around the suite to get an idea where to find what we’re looking for.”

“That’s the idea.”

Driscoll watched the screen for another few seconds, then burst out laughing. “My oh my . . . It’s a whole new world. It’s almost enough to make me want to come out of retirement for good.”

Kirov could see the excitement and intensity that was beginning to stir in Driscoll. Good. It was what he’d wanted to happen. Driscoll would be more productive if he saw a challenge and the answer to the challenge on the horizon. “You won’t need any more scores. Not if you focus on this one. Now sit down and start gathering info so that we can put together a plan.”

Driscoll gave him a shrewd glance. “I’d bet you already have a plan. You’re not what I’d call a team player. You like to pull the strings, Kirov.” He looked back at the computer screen. “I don’t have a problem with that as long as you don’t do something that will get me killed.”

Kirov didn’t answer.

“No comforting assurances?” Driscoll said.

“I’ll try to keep you both alive. That’s all I can promise. If it’s not good enough, walk away.”

“No way,” Charlie said. “I’m going to get that packet, and we’re going to thumb our noses at Brogan. Then I’m going to make a lot of money and get me a fine house and a woman like Anna Devareau. Hell, maybe I’ll get her.”

Driscoll shook his head. “Charlie, I think maybe we’ll take Kirov up on that cruise and make it a long one. I’m sure you’ll find a woman on board who can satisfy you and who’s not a black widow. Now, get a pad and take down the notes I’m going to give you . . .”

Kirov’s mobile phone vibrated in his pocket. It was a new phone, and he’d made sure only two people had the number.

He pulled it out of his pocket. “Yes.”

“Kirov, my boy . . .”

He recognized the voice and Irish intonations immediately. No great feat when the field was narrowed considerably down to two. “Hello, Walsh, I’ve been waiting for your call.”

“I’m still working on the merchandise you requested. Don’t worry, it’s coming.”

“I wasn’t worried, I have every confidence in you and your organization. You were highly recommended.”

“You flatter me. But I’m calling you because I’ve recently come into possession of another item that might interest you. I’m prepared to give you an excellent price.”

“You have my order. I’m really not interested in any other merchandise you may be trying to—”

A female voice cut in. “Kirov, don’t bargain with him. Don’t pay the bastard a cent.”

An icy chill ran down Kirov’s spine. “Hannah?”

Walsh came back on the line. “I see you’re familiar with the product.”

Kirov’s hand tightened on the phone. “What the hell are you doing?”

Driscoll and Charlie glanced up at the harshness in his voice.

“I’m just doing what I always do, Kirov. I obtain things that people want and sell them for a fair price. Check your phone. I just sent you a page from my most recent catalog. Go ahead. I’ll wait.”

Kirov pulled the phone from his ear and saw that he had an instant message waiting. He tapped the phone and a photograph of Hannah appeared. She was wearing wrist restraints and holding that morning’s edition of the
Irish Times
newspaper.

“I’ll cut your heart out if you hurt her, Walsh.”

“That’s entirely up to you.”

“What do you want?”

“Five hundred thousand euros cash. Tonight.”

“You’re insane. I can’t pull that much cash together on such short notice.”

“I’m a reasonable man. Perhaps I can take it out in trade. I have a rather sensitive assignment you can do for me instead.”

“I won’t kill for you, Walsh. Despite my reputation in some quarters, I’m not an assassin.”

“Who said anything about killing? Though I find it odd that that’s the first thing that came to your mind.”

“Maybe it’s the company I keep.”

“Meet with me tonight. We’ll discuss it like reasonable businessmen.”

“Only if I speak to Hannah first. Put her on again.”

“I don’t honor requests. Nor orders, Kirov.”

“How do I know that wasn’t a recording I heard? You might have already killed her.”

“Do what I say, and you’ll be able to see her this evening.”

“She’s here in Dublin?”

“You saw the photograph with the newspaper.”

“You could have gotten a copy of the
Irish Times
in any city in the world.”

“She’s here, Kirov. Actually, she made it quite easy for me.”

“Put her back on the phone. I’m not going to do anything you say until I talk to her again.”

Another long pause. For a moment Kirov thought Walsh had hung up. Then Walsh finally replied, “Very well.”

Hannah’s voice returned to the line. “Don’t do it. Whatever he wants, don’t do it.”

“Shhh. Are you all right?”

“Yes.”

“I’m sorry, Hannah. I’ll get you out of there no matter what it takes.” He paused. “No matter what I have to do for Walsh.”

“I don’t want you to do anything for him. I don’t understand. Why is this happening?”

“I don’t understand either. But we won’t be in the dark much longer. You’ll be free soon. I promise you.”

“I’m so touched.” Walsh’s voice startled Kirov as it returned on the line. “Make good on your promise. Meet me tonight on the Sean O’Casey Bridge.”

“The Sean O’Casey Bridge. And how am I to be sure it’s not a trap?”

“You don’t. But if I wanted to set you up, I could have just waited until it was time to deliver your weapons. All this wouldn’t have been necessary.”

Good point, Kirov thought. “Then what do you want from me? Tell me now.”

“We’ll discuss it when I see you. Ten tonight. Come alone, or the deal is off.”

“But how am I supposed to—”

Walsh cut the connection.

Kirov stood there, thinking, for a long moment. It was only when he was pocketing his phone that he realized his hands were shaking. What the hell? He’d dealt with a lot of scumbags like Walsh, and he was probably low on the lethal scale in comparison to some of the others he’d put down.

But this time Hannah was caught in the middle, and it was scaring the hell out of him. He didn’t know Walsh well enough to be sure of his volatility quotient. He didn’t know which way he would jump if cornered. He didn’t know if he would strike out at the nearest person if he felt threatened.

And Hannah was that nearest person.

“That sounded like rather an intense call, Kirov,” Driscoll said quietly.

Kirov nodded jerkily and grabbed his jacket. “I have to go.”

“Just like that?” Charlie asked. “But what about our—”

“It will have to wait. A friend of mine needs me.”

“So we heard,” Driscoll said. “It sounds as if you could use a little help. I can’t speak for Charlie, but I’ve got nothing better to do tonight.”

Kirov shook his head. “Thank you, but I have to play this low-key. If I don’t show up alone, he might panic and decide to kill her.”

“He might kill you both,” Charlie said. “You need a backup.”

“I already have a backup.” He pulled out his automatic and checked his ammo cartridge. “One that Walsh understands.”

“Don’t be a fool,” Charlie said harshly. “You go off alone, and you’ll get yourself killed.”

Kirov smiled. “Why, Charlie, I didn’t think you cared.”

Charlie’s face flushed, and his words came awkwardly. “Well, you know . . . We’re counting on this job. You’ll be no good to us floating in the river with a couple slugs in your back.”

“And here I’d thought we’d made a turning point in our relationship.”

“Screw off. We’re partners, aren’t we? I just thought partners were supposed to back each other up.”

Kirov secured the gun in his shoulder holster. “I believe that’s the usual procedure. I wouldn’t really know since I usually work alone, but I applaud the concept. However, not in this case.”

“I understand.” Driscoll stood and offered Kirov his hand. “Call if you change your mind.”

Kirov shook his hand and turned away. “I’ll do that.”

Charlie jammed his hands in his pockets. “You’re a fool, Kirov.”

“I’ve been called far worse. I’ll see you both here later tonight.”

He walked out of the flat and ran down the steps.

CHAPTER
7

Custom House Quay, Dublin
8:55
P.M.

Kirov strode quickly past the life-size statues that, from a distance, appeared to be people loitering on this walkway that ran along the Liffey River’s north bank. Instead, it was one of the city’s many monuments to victims of the potato famine, with its haunting sculptures of men, women, and even a dog, all on the verge of death.

Not what he needed to see right now.

Detach. It was the only way he’d been able to stay alive all this time. The moment he let emotions dictate his actions, he was finished.

It wasn’t working. Not when it was Hannah. He had stopped being able to separate his emotions toward Hannah a long time ago. He had fought them, tried to reason them away, and now could only accept that they were here to stay and he had to deal with them.

He glanced around. It was almost deserted here, in stark contrast to the hordes of people at the O’Connell Street intersection a few blocks behind him.

If Walsh had wanted a quiet meeting place, he had chosen well.

Up ahead he could see the angular gray spans of the Sean O’Casey Bridge, a narrow steel pedestrian structure capable of separating and swinging open to allow larger boats to pass.

He stopped. Someone was standing in the shadows on the bridge.

Walsh?

No, too thin.

Maybe the goon with the mustache he’d seen with Walsh during his one and only encounter. It would figure that the big man might bail when things got a little risky.

Kirov warily glanced around, then moved onto the bridge, moving between the large round automobile barriers. There was mist on the river, and spheres of condensation swirled around the street-lights. The bridge’s steel railings glistened.

The figure on the bridge hadn’t moved; his back was to him. Maybe it wasn’t Walsh’s man at all. Maybe Walsh was hiding in the shadows of a nearby building.

Kirov’s hand tightened on the handle of his automatic. It was pure irony that it was Walsh who had sold him the weapon. Well, he’d make good use of it.

“You won’t need your gun.”

That voice . . .

The figure turned and moved out of the shadows.

Hannah.

She walked toward him. “Hello, Kirov.”

Same wild curly hair, strong beautiful shoulders, and a face that he’d known from the moment he’d seen it that he’d never be able to forget.

He jerked his glance away and his gaze flew around the surrounding area. “Where’s Walsh?”

“Having a pint down the street. I told him I wanted to see you alone.”

“You told
him
?”

“The situation is a little different from what you were led to believe.”

Kirov dropped his hands to his sides. “How different?”

“Almost completely different. Sorry about that.”

“He didn’t kidnap you?”

“Oh, he did, most definitely. But after I showed him a few Web sites with my pictures on them, I convinced him I’d be stupid to forsake my career as a marine architect just to come here to cause trouble for him . . . and you.”

“You set me up.”

“Yeah, I guess I did. With Walsh’s help. Once you get to know him, he’s really a romantic at heart.”

“Bullshit.”

“No, it’s true. He knew I needed to see you, and he thought he was doing it in the name of true love.”

“You set
him
up.”

She nodded. “But he was well compensated. Eugenia gave him a few thousands for his trouble. I think she expects you to reimburse her.”

“Eugenia . . .” He nodded slowly. “Of course. That’s how you hunted me down.”

Her lips tightened. “I could have called you. If you’d had the courtesy not to have left me without so much as a phone number.”

“I’m sorry. I don’t keep phones for more than a few days. It’s too easy to track me through them.” He smiled ruefully. “Although you don’t seem to have had a problem.”

“Dammit, the real issue wasn’t about your lack of a phone. Forty-eight hours before we were to leave for Marinth, I had to hear from a hotel clerk that you had checked out and called a cab to take you to the airport.” Her eyes were glittering with anger. “You couldn’t have told me that you were leaving?”

“No, I decided that it was best you didn’t know. I never meant to hurt you.”

“You didn’t hurt me. Annoyed, maybe. Confused. Pissed off. Not hurt.”

“Then I’m sorry to have . . . pissed you off. Is that why you’ve gone to such lengths to find me?”

“Don’t flatter yourself. I wrote you off.”

“Then why are you here?”

“For one reason.” She jammed her hands into the pockets of her coat. “An important artifact of ours was stolen. We brought it up from Marinth just yesterday. The Feds think someone named Gadaire took it. What do you know about it?”

Kirov tensed. “What kind of artifact?”

“Why should I tell you? I don’t even know if I can trust you.”

“That’s not true. You know you can trust me. What kind of artifact?”

She ignored the question and asked in turn, “Why do the Feds think you might have had something to do with stealing it?”

“They probably don’t. More than likely they were fishing. Tell me about the artifact.”

She shook her head. “Not unless you tell me what’s been going on. You left me out in the cold before. It’s not going to happen again. I’m going to get that artifact back for Melis. You’re going to be honest with me.”