Page 18

She motioned for them to come over. “Come look. Or rather listen.”

When they were behind her chair, staring at the monitor which showed the last frame of a beaten Goodkind, head hanging, knocked unconscious, she pressed a key.

“Before we go, I want you guys to listen to this. I ran the recording through a special program that isolates background noise.” She pressed another key and they listened carefully. Borodin’s voice had disappeared and they listened to a background rumbling, which now sounded familiar.

“Man,” Metal said. “That sounds like…like planes taking off.”

“Yes,” she said. “It does, and it is. Look. I hacked—er consulted with the Portland International control tower and watch.”

On the screen, instead of Goodkind, were two timelines. The first of the recording and the second?—

She pointed at it. “Now watch. Below is a time plot of the background noises. Above is the exact moment three planes took off from Portland International.”

The two timelines coincided perfectly. “Al is being held at the Portland Airport. I don’t think he could possibly be held hostage in a commercial airliner so in all likelihood he is being held in a private jet. Borodin promised he’d let me see Al but I don’t know if he will. Right this moment, unless he’s being transported to Pioneer Square, he’s there.”

John had his cell out. “Nick? Advise the Portland office that Goodkind is possibly being held on a private plane in the General Aviation section of Portland International. Activate your HRT guys here. There is also the possibility that he is being transported via vehicle to Pioneer Square, so contact the airport authorities, see if you can intercept the vehicle. It will probably be a van. Be advised that this is being managed by a former member of the KGB.” He listened for a second. “Yeah, I know. At any rate, in an hour we’ll have him. I’ll be in touch.”

Metal could only imagine what was being set in motion in the FBI. The Portland office of course but also in DC. The FBI was good at what they did and they protected their own ferociously. Borodin had messed with the wrong guys.

And the wrong girl, he thought, as he helped Felicity put on her coat. She was as brave as any warrior and sure as hell smarter.

Midnight tapped the screen and pulled on a parka. “Okay,” he said, twirling his finger. “Heading out.”

“I won’t be more than ten feet from you,” Metal repeated for the fiftieth time. They were sitting in the back of an SUV. Jacko was driving. John and Douglas were in a second SUV. An FBI team was on its way to the airport.

Felicity shivered and Metal’s arm tightened, though she couldn’t feel his arm through the bullet proof vest she wore. Jacko and John and Douglas had looked completely expressionless, men on a mission. She understood they had done this a thousand times before.

Metal looked pissed. And though she was rarely acute about anyone’s psychological state, she understood that Metal’s anger covered fear. He wasn’t afraid for himself. He was afraid for her.

She was afraid for herself, too. It was insane to go meet Borodin, a former member of the KGB. Her parents would have been appalled. They’d defected to a country two continents and an ocean away to get away from the KGB.

But what else could she do? What was the alternative? Not show up? Maybe Borodin would have Al shot on the spot, out of spite and because he wasn’t useful any more. Al was a good guy. He’d always been kind to her. To tell the truth, he’d almost been more of a father to her than her own father had been. She knew her father loved her but he’d been a remote figure all her life. Al was a warmhearted man, who’d done nothing but help her.

She loved him like a father though she’d never told him.

She could never live with herself if something happened to him that she could have prevented. If he died because she was too scared to meet with Borodin, she’d be heartsick the rest of her life.

She couldn’t abandon Al, simply couldn’t.

But she was scared.

It was dark now and snow was falling wildly, the wind scattering flakes in every direction. How Jacko could see to drive was beyond her, but he seemed to have no difficulties. This was the kind of weather where she’d lock herself in the house for a week.

Instead, she was going to meet a monster, unarmed. That wasn’t quite true. She did have weapons. John and Douglas and Jacko. And Metal, of course. Who was going to be as close to her as he could, despite the advice of his teammates.

Metal brought out his tablet and ran through it with her once again. “You are going to stand here—” he stabbed the glass screen with a thick figure. They had worked out hiding places and fields of fire—which she understood to be a way to avoid shooting each other—and what they called comms. Each had an earpiece in his right ear. She had one too. They were on a frequency only they could hear. Metal wasn’t done with his briefing. His tenth. “And I will be here. Behind this.” He stabbed again, at a concrete plinth. “Do you understand me, honey? I will be five feet from you and I will have my gun out.”

Felicity turned toward him with difficulty. Her vest was several sizes too big. Damn, the thing was uncomfortable. How could law enforcement officers wear one for hours? The thing rubbed against her breasts. Did female officers have a molded vest to accommodate breasts?

“Yes,” she said gently. Metal looked like his head was ready to explode. “I understand. I will make my way to the corner and stand ten feet away from the curb. I don’t move and if I hear a whistle, I drop to the ground immediately.” She cupped his big hand with hers.

He grunted, as if something hurt.

“Get your fucking head back in the game, man,” Jacko said from the driver’s seat. He glanced in the rear view mirror. “You’re behaving like a fuckhead and you’re scaring her.”

Metal ran a big hand down his face and drew a deep breath. “I’m sorry, honey. I don’t want to scare you. I just want to know that you’re online with the plan.”

“Yes,” she said, and squeezed his hand. “I am. It’s a great plan. And basically all I have to do is stand there, far enough away that he can’t grab me. And if he does, you guys come out firing.”

“Damn straight,” Metal said fervently. “Be easier just to waste the guy the instant he shows his face.”

“And then Al might pay the consequences.” They’d been over this.

Metal opened his mouth but Jacko said—”We’re here.”

The plan was for Jacko and John to park on the other side of the square and the ASI guys would quietly move toward prearranged stations. Metal would make his way to the plinth and she would slowly walk across the square to the corner where she’d meet Borodin.

Through their comms system they’d heard that the FBI HRT had reached the airport.

One way or another they’d find Al.

It was freezing cold when she emerged from Jacko’s vehicle. A gust of wind nearly knocked her off her feet. Metal held her elbow and murmured, “Easy now.”

She nodded at him and he nodded back and…disappeared. Amazing. He was a huge man and yet he seemed to simply melt away.

Five minutes to deadline.

Felicity faced the street where Borodin would park, took a deep breath, and began walking. The wind was at her back so she didn’t have the snow blowing in her eyes. It was below freezing. She didn’t dare cry. Her mother had told her stories of tears freezing in the depths of Russian winters.

The square was lit but the lights seemed weak, somehow, never penetrating more than a few feet. It was a pretty square, with an amphitheater to her right and some low concrete buildings to her left. She’d seen the aerial photographs and knew that the terracotta bricks were inscribed with names but the snow was too heavy on the ground to see them, even if she could in the dim light.

Three minutes to deadline.

“That’s right, honey.” Metal’s deep voice sounded in her ear. “Just keep walking. We all have a visual on you and we’re not going to let anything happen to you.”

“We’re alone in the park,” John said in her ear. He was holding a tablet that gave thermal images. “But there’s a vehicle coming up. Parking…it’s parked on the next block. Someone is getting out. A tall man. He’s alone, moving toward the RP.” Rendezvous Point. They’d also given her a crash course in the military slang they’d be using.

“Anyone else in the vehicle?” Jacko asked. He was the only one with a long gun. He had a thermal scope. If another sniper were in the area, Jacko would see him.

“Can’t tell,” John said.

She was halfway across the square now, moving slowly.

Two minutes to deadline.

She was alone in the snowy square. Metal and his teammates were all around her, observing her every move, but she couldn’t see them. All she could see was the expanse of snow-covered brick, some trees and a few blocky buildings. Across the street was a lit building, looking warm and welcoming. For a second she longed to be in that building, inside. Inside was her place, where she belonged, not out in the blowing wind.

One minute to deadline.

But she was here now and Al’s fate was in her hands. She wasn’t going to let him down. Not now, not ever.

Thirty seconds.

A gust of wind blew snow in her eyes and she closed them for a moment and continued walking. She didn’t want to give Borodin even the faintest excuse to bail.

Or shoot.

Deadline.

“Stop honey,” Metal said in her ear. She stopped, far from the curb.

A man walked out of the misty snow. Tall, elegant, an ushanka , a fur hat with fur flaps over the ears, on his head. The man in the brochure. The CEO of Intergaz. Vladimir Borodin.

“Tell him to show he is unarmed.”

“Show me that you come unarmed, as you promised,” she said in English.

“But of course, Darinova,” he answered in Russian. He took off his elegant top coat, folded it neatly over his arms. Underneath he was wearing a black sweater which fit tightly enough to show that he wasn’t carrying a weapon. To her untrained eyes it looked like he didn’t have a bulletproof vest, either. Reaching slowly, he put his hands in his pockets and pulled them inside out, so that they hung from his hips. He held his arms high as he turned slowly around.

“Ankles,” Metal said.

“Ankles,” she repeated.

With a slow dip of his head, he lifted first one pant leg then another.

“Hat.”

“Ushanka,” Felicity repeated and he doffed his hat, showing her the empty interior.

“May I put my coat and hat back on?” he asked politely. “This isn’t as cold as Moscow in winter but still, I am uncomfortable.”

A shot of rage went through her. “I don’t care if you are uncomfortable,” she said. “Where is Al Goodkind?”

“Special Agent Goodkind?” Borodin lifted a sardonic brow. “He is well.”

“You beat him half to death!”

Borodin chuckled. “Hardly duschka. Clearly you have led a sheltered life. He is fine. And he is close.”

“Don’t you dare call me sweetheart! You’re a monster!”

They were close now, five feet apart.

Without Metal saying anything she stepped back. “Don’t come near me.”

Borodin tilted his head. “Fine. I’ve stopped, see?” He was standing with his feet braced, unmoving. “So, do you want to see your dear friend?”

“Yes.”

Borodin suddenly lifted his right hand, fist clenched. A sign. If his men saw that through the snow they were using binoculars. Or maybe they had thermal imagers like Metal’s team had. “I am sure you are surrounded by men. Armed men. My vehicle is coming and inside is Special Agent Goodkind. So please do not shoot.”

Felicity didn’t bother denying that she had men behind her. Out of the corner of her eye she could see a vehicle slowly making its way down the street.

“All I want is to ask you a few questions, Darinova.” He had his coat and hat back on and stood relaxed, open hands by his side. He didn’t have gloves on. Neither did she and she was starting to regret that. In the rush she hadn’t even thought of gloves. Or a hat.

Borodin stared at her, then he lifted his hand, elegant and long-fingered and curled his fingers in the universal gesture come to me.

He wasn’t threatening in any way but she felt her chest tighten, panic reach its fingers into her. Dread consumed her and she felt as if one step forward would seal her doom. “What do you want from me?” Her voice was weak. She found it hard to breathe. “I don’t know anything. What could I possibly tell you?”

Borodin shrugged and took a step forward, as if to hear her better. He glanced sharply to his left, where the van was arriving, slowly, rolling to a stop more than braking to a stop.

“There you are wrong, duschka. There is much you can tell me. And of course you will.”

Oddly, he brought something out of the top pocket of his elegant overcoat. In the snowy mist, Felicity couldn’t figure out what it was. It certainly wasn’t a weapon. He reached up to his head and cupped his ears. At the same time, something rose from the van fifty feet away, a flat cylinder, like a gigantic coin, with a man wearing earphones behind it. It swung around toward the square…

“LRAD!” Metal screamed in her ear and then pain gripped her entire body.

Her head pounded with the pulsing pain, it felt like her brains were beating against her skull. She fell to her knees, agony in every cell of her body, then fell to the snowy ground, curling up in the fetal position, though nothing staved off the excruciating pain. She turned and retched miserably, holding her head with her hands as if to stop her head from exploding. She’d never felt pain like this before, it took over her entire being.

Dimly, as if from some other planet, two hands gripped her arms and she was lifted up. Her legs folded under her. She couldn’t stand, the pain made it impossible to move her muscles. A heave and she was tossed over a male shoulder. The man started walking quickly toward the street.

The man…she couldn’t remember the name. She couldn’t remember her name. All she felt was pain and overwhelming nausea. She opened her mouth and bile spilled out as she gave a little cry.

Nothing made sense, she couldn’t get her bearings, she couldn’t think.

Then, suddenly, the debilitating nausea stopped and whatever it was that had gripped her body eased away. But she was horribly weak. Something wet coated her neck and when she lifted her hands, they came away bloody. She was bleeding. From where?

Strong hands grabbed her and tossed her onto something. Something hard. Inside something. She could barely focus. Her head still hurt fiercely, as did her ears. With a huge effort she lifted herself up on an elbow, shaking with the strain. In a box with one side open, snow slanting blown by the wind. A figure in a dark overcoat smiling coolly.

Borodin! Some of the fog in her head cleared. She was in the back of a van and Borodin was closing the doors. But she was still horribly weak and nauseated. Her head hung down, neck muscles too weak to hold it up.

Borodin opened his arms wide to bring the doors closed when something dark slammed into him from behind and he fell face first into the van. Felicity reached out, wanting to hurt him, hit him with something but there was nothing to grab and her muscles weren’t responding. It felt like someone had severed the connection between mind and body.

The dark shape reared up, face a bloody mask of rage. Metal! Oh God! Metal had come for her!

But he was almost as damaged as she was. Throwing Borodin into the van nearly used up all his resources. He was staggering, head down, hands on knees. Barely upright. Borodin hit him on the side of the head with his elbow and Metal staggered even more. Before he could fall down, Borodin leaped out of the van and gave him a hard push, lifted his legs in and closed the van door.

A second later, he climbed into the passenger seat, turning his face to the driver. Felicity could see his lips move but heard nothing. She couldn’t even hear the engine firing, taken by surprise when the van pulled away fast. Neither she nor Metal had any warning and they bounced around in the back of the van as it sped away, taking corners dangerously fast. There was nothing to hang onto in the van so they rolled with the centripetal force.

At one particularly tight corner, she slammed her head against the side of the van. Metal reached out and held her tight. He spoke but she couldn’t hear him.

They were helpless. Borodin was taking them God knew where and who knew when they would get their strength back? Metal was doing better than her, but barely. At another corner he was able to hold her and brace himself against the wall with his leg but she could feel that he was straining.

No hope of taking Borodin and the driver by surprise, either, even if Metal were fully functioning. Borodin kept one hand on the back of the seat, face turned to the driver, switching his gaze to them every few seconds. He had a gun in his hand.

Felicity felt sick all over again. They were trapped. Despite all their precautions, Borodin had outwitted them with some kind of sonic cannon. It probably would leave permanent hearing loss, not that they’d live long enough to worry about that.

A biting pressure on her wrist and she looked down. Metal was holding his gun. But his hand was trembling. She looked up at his face, grim and pale. Blood stained the sides of his head.

Then—he winked.

Oh God! Yes! Maybe there was hope!

Metal brought one trembling hand up to grasp the wrist of his right hand holding the gun. Her body blocked the view so Borodin couldn’t see them. Metal’s left hand gripped the right so hard his knuckles whitened but the trembling stopped.

But he couldn’t move fast enough. Borodin’s eyes kept flicking over to them and Borodin had complete use of his senses. He’d had acoustic protection from the sonic cannon.

Metal was doing his best to be ready for any drop in attention, but it wasn’t coming.

Then Borodin held a cell phone to his ear and her heart leaped in her chest. He was using Al’s cell! She recognized the phone case—a gift from his granddaughter. Blue with the FBI seal in gold.

She thumped Metal on the chest to get his attention. They couldn’t whisper and even if they could, they couldn’t hear each other. Metal looked at her, a question in his eyes. She carefully brought out her cell and started thumbing frantically. It was an app a fellow hacker had sent her as a semi-joke. Dangerous, in the wrong hands. Hers were definitely the right hands.

Metal was watching her carefully but she didn’t dare try to signal anything. Sending her cell instructions with trembling hands was using up her entire hard disk. Borodin was speaking but she couldn’t hear anything. Couldn’t hear when he was nearing the end of the conversation. If he finished before she did, all was lost. Metal would never have his chance.

Borodin was still speaking, attention diverted from them, by the time she’d finished inputting the app. Metal was watching her carefully. Not understanding, but trusting her. She looked up into his eyes, those bright eagle eyes watching her every move. She held a finger up— wait! —pressed the final key and nodded.

Now!

She couldn’t hear any sound at all, but she could see. A flash of brilliant light followed by a puff of smoke. Borodin reacting as if he’d received a punch to the head. Blackened flesh appearing on the side of his face. The driver turning his head, reaching out…

And Borodin’s head exploded and the driver’s head exploded and the van slipped in the snow, bumped over the curb and crashed into a street lamp.

Felicity lay on her back, stunned. Everything seemed a million miles away, part of another, remote universe. Was she dead?

Metal’s rough face, blood streaming from a cut in his forehead, appeared right above her, right where heaven would be. His mouth was open, lips forming a word, over and over again. Dreamily, Felicity reached up and cupped the side of his face. She smiled at him. Or did she? It was hard to tell what she was doing. And maybe it didn’t make any difference if she was dead.

She drifted off then came to again as she was violently shaken. Metal, mouth opening and closing. A faint noise came to her from a faraway place.

Her name?

Metal pulled her up and into his arms, his mouth close to her ear. She could hear a little more clearly now. He was shouting her name, but it felt like he was on another continent.

Faces appeared in the van’s open doorway. Snow was blowing into the back of the van, falling on her face. Her skin felt cold.

Two men in police uniforms. Three other men, men she knew. But she couldn’t remember their names. All three of the men she knew she knew but couldn’t remember their names looked pale and battered, with trickles of blood on the sides of their faces.

Hands reached out for them, but Metal shook them off. He pulled away and held her by the shoulders so she could see his face.

He yelled something at her.

“What?”

“ I love you !” he shouted, holding her tightly.

“ I love you too !” she screamed back.

They toppled to the side in each other’s arms.