His gaze shifted to October. He said, “So I leave my nice, comfortable office in Moscow and travel down to this godforsaken place, expecting to meet my old friend Jax Alexander at the airport and show him a good time in Kaliningrad. And what happens? A beautiful young American Naval officer flies in that same morning.”
October squirmed uncomfortably, but said nothing.
Andrei spread his arms wide, then dropped them to his sides. “So, here I am. I have a salvage ship with thirteen dead bodies, a dead night watchman, a live CIA agent, and an American Naval officer with an interesting past, all showing up in Kaliningrad Oblast at roughly the same time. So now I ask you, Jax, what is going on here?”
Jax leaned back against the window, his gaze on his old adversary’s battle-scarred face. His options were severely limited, and he knew it. If he tried to stonewall Andrei, the Russian would have them both on the next flight out of Kaliningrad-or worse. There were times when the truth was the best option. “It’s about Nazi gold.”
October threw him a quick, incredulous glance, while Andrei-caught with a lungful of cigarette smoke-fell into a coughing fit. “What?” he said when he was able.
“The militia didn’t by any chance find an old German U-boat at this shipyard, did they?”
Andrei’s eyes narrowed. “How did you know about that? We haven’t even notified Berlin yet.”
“We saw it,” said Jax. He was aware of October giving him another look. But Jax knew what Andrei would think-that the Americans had “seen” the sub on a satellite image.
Andrei cupped his hand around his cigarette to scratch behind his right ear. “What is your interest in the U-boat?”
Choosing his words carefully, Jax laid it all out for him-the missing sub, the Nazi gold, the link to a looming terrorist hit on the United States.
At the end of it all, Andrei blew out a long stream of smoke, his eyes twinkling with silent laughter. “And you expect me to believe this?”
Jax shrugged. “It’s what they told me.”
Andrei’s smile widened. “I take it you’re still in Division Thirteen?”
“What do you think?”
The Russian swung his head to fix October with a hard stare. He was no longer smiling. “And you?”
She froze, her eyes widening in a deer-in-the-headlights look.
Jax answered for her. “The CIA didn’t anticipate me receiving such a warm and personal reception from the SVR. Since my Russian’s no better than it used to be, they sent Ensign Guinness along as a translator.”
“Her command of the language is certainly better than yours ever was,” said Andrei, his gaze still on Tobie. “Tell me, Ensign, did you learn Russian before or after your psychiatric discharge from the Navy?”
“Before.”
She said it calmly enough, although Jax knew that psychiatric discharge was a sensitive subject with her. Which was, of course, why Andrei mentioned it. Andrei was very good at finding sore points and pressing on them.
“That’s the only reason you’re here?”
Jax said, “What other reason could there be?”
Rather than answer, Andrei said, “You do realize, of course, that if there ever was any gold on that U-boat, it’s not there anymore?”
It was common knowledge among Russians that when the militia investigated a robbery, anything the thieves missed, the militia took. Jax said, “It’s not the gold I want. I want the guys who hired that salvage ship in the first place.”
“You mean, your terrorists?” Andrei blew out a lungful of smoke, his eyes narrowing with what looked like amusement. “I think there’s something on that U-boat you need to see.”
Jax pushed away from the window. “If you’ll just point us to the local rent-a-car people, we’ll be on our-”
“You forget; I know you, Jax.” Andrei took a final drag on his cigarette and ground it out on the ashtray beside him. “Which means you go to the shipyard in my car, or you don’t go. It’s that simple.”
19
“You didn’t expect it to really be here, did you?” said Tobie, shouting to be heard over the roar of wind and rain. “The U-boat, I mean.”
They were standing beneath a short overhang at the rear of the terminal, waiting for Andrei to bring up his car. Jax squinted at the angry gray clouds roiling overhead. “Stop gloating.”
“Why? Gloating is fun.” She cast a quick glance around and lowered her voice. “Can we talk here?”
“Carefully.”
“I’ll be careful. Can you tell me why in God’s name the Russians are being so nice and cooperative?”
“It has nothing to do with being nice, and everything to do with the fact they think we know something they don’t, and they want to find out what that something is.”
“But you already told them everything.”
“You don’t actually think Andrei believed me, do you?”
“Why wouldn’t he?”
Jax snorted. “The first lesson you need to learn in this business is, Don’t believe anything you’re told.”
“By anyone?”
“Anyone. Including your own government.” He thought about it a minute. “Make that, especially your own government.”
“So how do we know what we’ve been told about this U-boat is true?”
“We don’t. I was told it’s true. That doesn’t mean it’s not bullshit.”
“Well, that’s comforting.” She burrowed her cold hands deeper into the pockets of her jacket. “So what’s the second lesson?”
“The second lesson? Don’t expect anyone to believe anything you tell them.”
She stared across the parking lot to where Andrei was talking to a guard. “You think that could be why he’s taking us to look at the U-boat? Because he doesn’t think you’ll believe him if he just tells you about it?”
“Partially.”
She watched the Russian step off the curb and walk briskly toward them, his leather jacket flaring open to reveal the Makarov pistol in a shoulder holster beneath it. She said, “I don’t think I’d like to cross that guy.”
“You don’t. Not if you want to live to tell about it. People who cross Andrei have a nasty habit of turning up dead.”
She was silent for a moment. “You said that to scare me.”
“Yeah. But that doesn’t mean it isn’t true. Just remember: you’re here as the woo-woo specialist. I do the talking. Understand?”
She ducked her head and pulled an imaginary forelock. “I’ll try to remember my place, Sahib. You want I should walk three steps behind you, Sahib?”
A big silver sedan swung in close to the curb and stopped. Gone were the days of Zhigulis and Ladas; Andrei’s car was a shiny new S-Class Mercedes, with a stocky, round-faced driver who looked like he might have come out of the steppes of Asia with the Golden Horde.
Jax reached to open the door for her. “Just let me do the talking, okay?”
But she just gave him a wide smile and slid into the car.
Rodriguez stood with eyes narrowed against the strengthening rain and watched as the target from the CIA ducked into the Mercedes across the street. Beside him, Clay Dixon lowered the visor on his motorcycle helmet and started his Kawasaki 750ii.
“Salinger and I will stay behind you,” said Rodriguez. “Keep the tail loose. When we figure out what’s going on, then we can decide when and where to make the hit.”
Dixon nodded.
Rodriguez waited until the Mercedes pulled out into the light traffic, then stepped back. “Go.”
Sliding into the passenger seat of the Range Rover, he said to Salinger, “Follow Dixon. But keep your distance.”
“Who the hell is this Russkie?” said Salinger, dropping in three cars behind the Kawasaki.
“I don’t know. But whoever he is, he’s damned important. You should have seen the way everyone in the airport was scrambling to do what he told them.”