She watched his eyes widen slightly with understanding. His eyes were green.
“There’s a place west of here, about one hundred and fifty kilometers, north of Lake Aidarkul.” Riess hesitated, whether because he was uncertain or simply trying to recall, Chace couldn’t tell. “You go north from there, there’s a little village just south of the border with Kazakhstan. It’s all frontier, there’s nothing out there. I was out that way about three months ago, before the chilla hit. We were getting reports of a market, I flew out with some of the CT guys.”
“The chilla?”
Riess grinned, apologetic. “Uzbekistan doesn’t get that much weather, but in the winter, there’s about six weeks of fucking cold, called the chilla.”
“Ah.”
“Yeah, sorry. Anyway, this market, it was anything goes. Weapons, drugs, livestock. Other things.”
“Sounds ideal.”
Riess grimaced, showing his teeth. “I don’t know. Western woman heading out there alone, they may try to put you up for sale.”
“They might.” Chace gave him her best smile. “Last question, Charles. Where can I get a car?”
“Rentals are hard to come by. You could go back out to the airport—”
“No. I’ll need to buy it.”
“Yeah? Huh. Best bet, then, I’d find a car you like on the street and ask the owner how much he wants for it. You’ve got cash, I assume?”
“Enough to cover expenses.”
“That’s what I’d do. That way, you’d be sure to get one that runs.”
“Very well.”
Riess opened his mouth to add something, then closed it, then opened it once more. “Is that all?”
“For now.”
“I’m not sure meeting a second time would be that wise.”
“No?”
“The NSS has been watching me.”
Chace stared at him.
“Not tonight, I made a point of losing them tonight,” Riess added quickly.
“You’re certain?”
“Yes. Absolutely.”
“How’d you come here tonight?”
“Metro.”
“How many times did you change trains?”
“Six. Why do you think it took me two hours to get here?”
“You’re State Department?”
Riess hesitated, then nodded.
“You’ve had basic tradecraft, then?”
“I’m not supposed to talk about that.”
Chace looked at him, for a moment unable to believe what she’d just heard. “I’m sorry?”
“We’re not supposed to talk about that kind of thing.”
“You know who I am?”
“Well, I know why you’re here, if that’s what you mean, yes.”
She shook her head, amused, then looked him over a second time, reappraising. He was charming, in a way, and reasonably handsome.
“I don’t know if you’re naïve or cute or both,” Chace said.
“With those choices, I’d rather cute, if you don’t mind.”
Chace stared at him a moment longer, recognizing a desire she hadn’t felt in what seemed like a very long time. She hadn’t had sex since she had been with Tom, and thinking of it, it seemed both ages ago and only yesterday.
She got up from the bed, crossed over to where he was sitting, and took his chin in her hand. She kissed him, and after he recovered from his surprise, he returned it.
She broke it off.
“I’m going down to the gift shop,” Chace said, “where I hope they will sell me a package of condoms. If you like the sound of that, be in the bed when I get back.”
She took her key and headed out of the room, riding the elevator down to the lobby. The gift shop was still open. After she made her purchase, she stepped back into the lobby, then crossed it to the restaurant, a small café called the Brasserie. She ordered a glass of beer, drank it sitting alone at a table, watching the lobby, and by the time she’d emptied the glass, she was as certain as she could be that Charles Riess had not been followed to the Hotel InterContinental.
He was waiting in the bed when she got back.
CHAPTER 12
Uzbekistan—Tashkent—182 Sulaymonova,
Penthouse of Sevara Malikov-Ganiev
17 February, 0008 Hours (GMT+5:00)
Zahidov collapsed onto Sevara, breathless, spent, and as happy as he had been in weeks. He kissed her neck and tasted the perspiration there, moved his mouth along her shoulder, drinking her sweetness with his tongue, feeling the warmth and smoothness of her skin, the life of her. She shuddered again around him, ran her nails up his back, and then let out a long sigh of contentment, giving voice to everything he was feeling.
For a while then, he drifted in languid thought, feeling Sevara’s heartbeat slowing, feeling his own matching pace. She kissed his shoulder and his neck and then his mouth, each tenderly, then let her leg slip away from him, freeing him. Zahidov took the cue, reluctantly rolling off her, the bedsheet clinging to him. When he was on his back, she curled against him, resting her head on his chest.
“Do you think he’s dead yet?”
“No.” The stroke had been unexpected, not the result they’d been after, and it complicated things, though not as much as he had first feared. “The doctors say he’s stabilized.”
Sevara readjusted her position, making herself more comfortable. Zahidov felt her nails traveling lightly over his belly, up his chest.
“You’re disappointed,” she said softly. “Don’t be, Ahtya.”
“I don’t like him lingering.”
“But it doesn’t hurt us. I saw him at the hospital this evening. The whole side of his body is useless, his face is sagging like melted wax. I talked to him for almost half an hour, holding his hand. He couldn’t even move his fingers, he couldn’t even speak. The doctors say it’s unlikely he’ll ever be able to again.”
“Unlikely isn’t the same as certain.”
Sevara rolled, propping herself up on her side, smiling down at him, reassuring. “It doesn’t matter. He won’t be recovered by tomorrow, love. He won’t be recovered in a week, or even a month. It gives us time. He remains President in name, and you and I, we simply move in and take control. We can keep working on the Deputies, making certain they know how things are going to be. And when everything is right and in place, we announce my father’s illness, his subsequent retirement, and that I will be acting in his stead until elections can be held.”
Zahidov stared at the ceiling, the shadows cast by the candles burning on the bureau beyond the foot of the bed.
“Time is to our advantage,” Sevara told him.
“To your brother as well.” He turned to look at her, brushing hair from her cheek with the back of his hand. “It’s to his advantage as well, Sevya, and he will do exactly what you are doing.”
“Ruslan’s got no support from the Americans, you said so yourself. They know he’s not strong enough to hold the country together.”
“He might be able to change their minds.”
Sevara laughed, kissed his hand. “When has Washington ever changed its mind, Ahtya, especially with the current American President? No, Ruslan will try, but he’ll need the DPMs, and the DPMs will already belong to us. I’ve spoken to Urdushevich and Tursunova already, and they’ve told me what I’ll hear from all of the rest. Not one of them wishes to lose what they have. And they know that should Ruslan become President, the first thing he’ll do is get rid of them all and claim he’s fighting corruption. None of them will ever lift a finger to support him.”