She fell silent.
“And then?” Quinn asked.
“Palavin killed him, and became him. At that point, Nikolai Palavin disappeared.” She paused. “Like a ghost.”
“How do you know all this?”
Petra exchanged a look with Mikhail. He started to say something in Russian, but then stopped, and said in English, “What will it hurt?”
She nodded in agreement, then turned back to Quinn. “A man named Dombrovski brought us together. Mikhail, myself, and the others back in Moscow who have helped us, we all suffered at the hands of the Ghost. Some of us were victims who survived his interrogations. But most of us lost relatives and loved ones to his methods.” She looked at her partner. “Mikhail’s brother, tortured then killed. Kolya, our friend who died in Maine, lost his parents. Others in our group, too, lost brothers, sisters, whole families. All taken from us, silenced by the Ghost.”
Mikhail took up the story. “Dombrovski had been a KGB doctor, but he had made the mistake of helping one of Palavin’s victims. The Ghost then tortured him, keeping him from death only because he was KGB. Though several years in a labor camp in Norilsk probably felt like death. When Dombrovski returned to Moscow, he found that his wife and his son were dead. More victims of the Ghost. But at the time, the only thing he could do was remember. It wasn’t until the Soviet Union dissolved that he saw his chance. He tried to locate Palavin to bring him to justice, but it was too late. Palavin had disappeared.”
“Obviously, your friend didn’t let that stop him,” Quinn said.
“Of course not,” Petra said. “Dombrovski knew he needed help, so he reached out to other victims and family members. He made sure those of us who were most dedicated got the best training possible. Mikhail and myself spent over two years learning what we could from a former army intelligence officer who had lost a cousin to the Ghost. But all the training wasn’t getting us any closer to finding Palavin. For years there was no trace of him. Some thought that he was dead. But not Dombrovski, and not me. Then, seven weeks ago, we finally caught a break. Dombrovski learned Glinka was still alive and living in Moscow. He’s the one who told us what had happened to the Ghost. And he’s the one who told us about the picture.”
“I thought you said he was loyal to Palavin.”
“He was, even to the end. But we … encouraged him to be helpful. He told us most of the names of the Young Leninists. But he never gave up the Englishman’s name.”
“So you used the same tactics that the Ghost used?”
“No,” she said, her teeth clenched. “The Ghost tortured for no reason. We are trying to bring justice to the dead.”
“Distinction noted,” Quinn said.
She waved him off like it didn’t matter. “We set out to try and find one of the others in the photo Glinka had identified, hoping they could give us the name of Palavin’s twin. But we had barely left Moscow when Palavin learned of Glinka’s betrayal, then used his contacts to track Dombrovski down.” She fell silent.
“His people forced Dombrovski to tell them about you. Am I right?” Quinn asked.
She looked at him, her eyes hard. “Dombrovski was old, frail. But he told them nothing of us!”
“How do you know that? You weren’t in the room.”
Mikhail sat forward. “You are right. We weren’t there. That’s why we had taken the precautions Dombrovski himself had trained us to use when we set out on our mission, including using multiple IDs as we traveled. We didn’t realize it, but that was a potential weak point. You see, Dombrovski knew who created them for us. He could have given Palavin that information. Yes, he told the Ghost’s men we were out here looking for him, but he didn’t give them the name of who had provided us with our documents. If he had, we wouldn’t be here talking to you now. Dombrovski kept that secret to the end.”
“So not knowing exactly who you were, Palavin starting eliminating the others from the photograph?”
“Unfortunately for us, yes,” Petra said. “Don’t you see? You’re our last hope. Do you know the name of the Englishman? Do you have some way of getting ahold of him?”
Quinn stared at her for a moment, then stood up without saying anything. He put the group photo in his pocket and crossed over to Orlando.
“Please,” Petra said. “We’ve told you everything. We’re so close. Just a little help is all we ask.”
“Why not go to the Russian government? Get them to help you?”
“Our government has more than its share of old KGB still in it,” she scoffed. “His old comrades would block any attempt to bring him home. Even if they didn’t, the government would not want him back, because of the embarrassment he could cause. Many in our country have moved on. They’d rather forget the past than deal with it. Mikhail and I and the others who have helped us knew long ago if we wanted justice we would have to obtain it on our own.”
Quinn frowned to himself. “Give us a moment,” he told Petra, then motioned for Orlando to follow him to the edge of the entryway.
“I think she’s telling the truth,” Orlando said.
“Yeah, I think so, too,” he said, then glanced at the bathroom. “Keep an eye on things out here for a few minutes.”
She smiled. “Be my pleasure.”
As Quinn stepped over to the bathroom door, Petra spoke up again. “Do you know how to reach the Ghost? Are you going to help us? Please, tell me.”
He grabbed the handle of the door. “I’ll let you know in a minute.”
Annabel’s eyes grew wide as Quinn stepped into the bathroom. He flipped on the light and pulled the door closed behind him.
She was sitting on the toilet, her mouth gagged, her hands and feet tied.
“Hope you didn’t think we forgot about you,” he said.
He turned on the water and filled one of the glasses on the counter. When he was done, he set it down and stepped over to the MI6 agent.
“I’m going to take the gag off,” he said. “If you utter one syllable that is not an answer to one of my questions, I guarantee you will regret it. Is that clear?”
She nodded.
“I’m deadly serious. Any slip and you will never see the outside of this room again.” She nodded again.
He reached behind her head and untied the gag. She coughed as it fell from her mouth. Quinn picked up the glass of water and held it in front of her.
“Take a sip.”
Her first attempt ended in another fit of coughing. The second time, she managed to get some down.
“Better?” he asked after a moment.
“Yes,” she said, her voice strained. “People are going to be looking for me. You should let me go now.”
“That’s a slip, Annabel. I’ll let this first one go, but that’s it. Are we clear?”
She took a breath. “Yes.”
He set the glass down on the sink and crouched in front of her. “I believe you played me.”
Her brow furrowed. “What do you mean?”
He pulled out his phone and accessed the picture of him at the Grand Hyatt. “Recognize it? It’s from the last time we met.”
She looked at the phone, then back at Quinn, confused.
“Didn’t expect me to see this, did you?” He smiled. “You took it, then sent it to someone who is trying to harm someone I love.”
“I didn’t … I … I …”
Quinn raised the gag so she could see it. “You’re very close to that second offense.”
She fell silent.
“You took this photo.”
“Yes.”
“Who did you send it to?”
“My office.”