“Semantics. In my experience with the super rich, as an analyst for hire, once a man’s net worth goes north of a hundred million dollars, inhibitions melt away pretty fast.”
“The emperor sheds his kimono.” Johnny recalled using the line with Nakamura. Sounded like emperors were stripping all over the place.
Nadia managed a laugh. Her eyes went to her watch again, then to Johnny, the food on the table, and back to him. They lingered on him. Johnny felt helpless when she stared at him, like he did in the courtroom when he was waiting for the verdict on an impossible case, one where he didn’t have a chance to impose his will on the final outcome.
“I better eat some of this fast and get to my room,” she said. “I want to be packed and ready to go. Just in case he says yes.”
“Sure.”
“I’m sorry to rush through dinner like this.”
Johnny barely heard what she said. He was coming to grips with what they weren’t discussing. That she needed him to go away now.
“I know it’s presumptuous of me,” Nadia said. “I mean, it’s nuts, right? I’m just assuming he’s going to charter a plane for me… ”
Her eyes were alive now, similar to how she’d described Bobby’s voice on the phone. And Johnny would not be part of it. If she was successful in getting Simeonovich to help her, he was not invited. Their unspoken understanding was that he would be going back to New Jersey. Johnny wouldn’t dare suggest tagging along. She appreciated him, maybe even loved him in a platonic way. But she needed more help than he was capable of providing. The man who could provide it wouldn’t want him around, and Nadia understood the reality of the situation. In addition to that, she genuinely didn’t want Johnny to lose his job by extending his vacation, especially not if she had an oligarch at her disposal.
The waiter delivered the bill on a tray. Nadia and Johnny had an understanding that she was paying his expenses for the trip. Johnny still tried to pay for the meal out of pure chivalry, but Nadia grabbed the tray with the bill from his hands. Johnny knew that her checking account was temporarily flush from the fat fee she’d earned from the securities analysis she’d performed for Simeonovich. Johnny watched her stack some yen on the tray to cover the bill and the tip.
People didn’t touch money in public in Japan. When a person needed to hand currency to another, he used an envelope. Money was considered filthy, both literally and figuratively. The Japanese were right, he thought. Money was a filthy thing, especially when it came from Russia. Johnny didn’t trust the bastard. Not one bit. They had no rule of law in Russia. Why would anyone trust a man who knew how to manipulate the law to his own benefit?
They left the restaurant and rode the elevator together.
When they got to Nadia’s room, she looked at him. Her eyes turned large and moist.
“You’re too good to me, Johnny Tanner,” she said. “I’m never going to be able to thank you properly for everything you’ve done for me. For Bobby and me. For us.” She kissed him firmly on the cheek.
Johnny went back to his room and called his credit card concierge to check the flight schedule from Tokyo to the New York metro area. He didn’t need to wait for Nadia to tell him what Simeonovich would say. They both knew the outcome of her call just as surely as they knew what had just transpired in front of her hotel room.
She’d given him the big kiss good-bye.
CHAPTER 29
The co-captain of the Gulfstream G550 emerged from the cockpit every half hour to see if Nadia needed anything. The sleek jet seated nineteen people, but she was the only passenger.
“Will we be stopping to refuel?” Nadia said.
The co-captain was an American in his fifties, with a gray crew cut and a lean physique. His military looks inspired confidence. He shook his head. “Nope. The G550 has a range of six thousand, seven hundred fifty nautical miles. The flight from Tokyo to Kyiv is about five thousand miles.”
Simmy had purposefully chartered a jet that could cover the distance non-stop. He didn’t want her to waste any time. Nadia pictured him telling his assistant — the condescending one with the sculpted cheekbones that she’d met on his yacht less than a month ago — to make sure she chartered a plane that met all of Nadia’s needs. A warmth spread over her body.
The co-captain said, “I’m guessing you didn’t make the charter yourself?”
“How can you tell?”
He chuckled. “The same way I can tell whoever chartered this plane is very fond of you. Kind of obvious.”
Nadia lowered her voice to make her next question sound more discreet. “How much for a jaunt like this?”
He shrugged. “Figure about ten thousand per thousand miles.”
“Fifty thousand?” Nadia swallowed. “That much?”
“Unless your friend is a good client. Then he has his own contract, his own rate. It’s negotiated.”
“My friend has his own plane. It just wasn’t in Tokyo.”
The co-captain smiled. “Good news then.”
“What’s that?”
“Your friend loves you. It was at least fifty grand.”
Nadia had called Simmy at precisely 5:00 p.m. Moscow time. It was his private mobile phone. Only his most trusted friends and associates had the number. He answered the phone without emotion, then turned enthusiastic as soon as he heard her voice.
Nadia explained the urgency of the situation. Bobby was in danger on a ferry headed to Vladivostok. Nadia needed to get to Kyiv to investigate some matters and get to Vladivostok before Bobby arrived. She had approximately fifty-seven hours before Bobby arrived and the clock was ticking. He’d offered to help her before. She hadn’t accepted. Now she needed his help. In the most grandiose, inappropriately expensive way imaginable.
It was a preposterous request. And yet Nadia was certain he would say yes. First, she’d saved him tens of millions of dollars with her analysis by preventing him from overpaying for a company whose books had been cooked. Second, fifty thousand dollars to him was the equivalent of fifty cents to her. It was a mercenary’s observation, but it was the truth. Third, he wanted her and Nadia knew it. A woman knew a man’s intentions based on the look in his eyes, his body language around her, his manner of speech. Whether she was an object of temporary fascination or something more serious, she had no idea.
But the prospect of either one thrilled her as much as telling a Russian oligarch about the existence of a formula scared her. Oligarchs became who they were because of their insatiable appetite for wealth. A radiation countermeasure would be worth billions. If he learned of its existence, could she trust him not to try to acquire it for himself?
No. And yet, now she had no choice.
Before offering to arrange transportation from Tokyo to Kyiv, he’d asked only three questions.
“Are you in danger?”
“Yes. Someone tried to kill me today.”
“Is Bobby in danger?”
“Yes. The same people tried to kill him. He’s following one of them into Russia.”
“Will you tell me the complete truth about what this is all about if I meet you in Kyiv?”
“No.”
“No?” His voice rang with disbelief.
“No. I’m going to tell you the truth now. I need to investigate a few things in Kyiv as soon as I get there. And I need your help to make the necessary arrangements ahead of time. Otherwise I won’t make it to Vladivostok in time.”
She gave him a brief summary of everything that had transpired in Japan. She also told him about the origins of a potentially revolutionary formula, her discovery that it was only partially complete, and the e-mail that had led them to Fukushima. She told him about Eva, too. She had to. Eva was the focal point of her investigation. She was the reason Nadia was going to Kyiv. Nadia told him everything he could possibly want to know. Except for one thing.