Moments later the chopper’s side door swung open and the giant they had seen earlier — whom Eden had described as Kosma, a former KGB operative, leaned out of the door with a Groza assault rifle in one hand and a megaphone in the other.
“Put down your guns!” he shouted. His accent was thick and hard to understand.
“What do we do now?” Karlsson asked, still gripping his Glock. “Maybe we can still shoot our way out?”
“I think we have to do as he says,” Lea said, shaking her head. “If he opens fire with that thing we’ll be so full of holes we’re going to look like a couple of cocktail strainers in less than ten seconds — and that’s not to mention all these goons.” She nodded at the men surrounding them on either side of the canal — they were obviously receiving orders though the small headsets they wore.
Without giving them any chance to think, Kodiak pushed Mazzarro onto Lea’s boat and snatched Lea’s and Karlsson’s weapons and tossed them in the canal. Then he ordered Mazzarro to climb the rope ladder which came tumbling down from the chopper. Kosma’s giant hands grabbed the Italian and hauled him inside the chopper.
“Your turn,” Kodiak said, pointing the gun at Karlsson.
When the American was inside, Kodiak turned the gun on Lea. “Ladies last,” he said, grinning.
Lea climbed into the helicopter, a look of defeat on her slim face. Her hair whipped around in the chopper’s downdraft as she went inside the cabin. A moment later, Kodiak joined them and the chopper pulled up into the sky and banked sharply to the right. Kodiak and Kosma sat either side of Mazzarro, opposite Lea and Bradley Karlsson. Each of the men was armed — Kosma still held the Groza while Kodiak had picked up a compact Bizon submachine gun.
“What are you going to do with us?” Lea asked flatly, and trying not to give away how angry and humiliated she was for getting caught.
“They’re going to shoot us and dump us in the sea, right?” Karlsson said with a fake grin.
“Oh no,” Kodiak said with a snarl. “You two are coming with us. Mr Vetrov needs fresh meat for another sacrifice to his gods.”
Eden disconnected his phone and turned grim-faced to the others who were waiting, expectant, for him to tell them what had just happened.
“That was a contact of mine from the Italian police. I’m sorry to say they just found the boat Lea and Brad were using to retrieve Dr Mazzarro.”
“And?” Ryan asked, wide-eyed.
“And it was empty. Eye-witnesses report seeing men with guns forcing them into a helicopter. An MI5 contact of mine has just told me that the chopper went to the airport where they boarded a private A380. It looks like it’s heading south but that’s all they could give me for now.”
Eden, like everyone else in the room was suddenly deflated, and deeply worried about Lea and Karlsson.
Then, Hawke walked back into the room, still holding his phone.
“Ah, the wanderer returns,’ Scarlet said.
“Any news?” Eden asked.
Hawke nodded. “I believe her.”
“Her?” Ryan said.
“Snowcat is a bit of a giveaway codename, boy,” Scarlet said.
“Not necessarily,” he replied.
“I suppose you’re right,” Scarlet said. “Yours would probably be something like Candy Floss.”
“And what was yours?” Ryan replied with a smirk. “Iron-drawers?”
“Ha, ha… ha,” she said in a sarcastic tone.
“Thanks everyone, but this is about Liz,” Hawke said, bringing the banter to an end. “This woman clams she’s in the FSB and says she has important information about what happened in Vietnam, so I’m going to meet her.”
“Where and when?” Eden asked.
“To be arranged.”
“And why is she doing this?” Lexi asked.
“She claims it has something to do with why we were in Moscow, but she didn’t elaborate.”
Scarlet sighed. “And you’re taking the word of someone in the Russian Main Intelligence Directorate? I know you’re SBS and all, but I thought you were smarter than that.”
Alex gave him a look. “He’s not an idiot, Scarlet. He’ll be ready for anything.”
“I guess,” replied Ryan. “Plus this Snowcat chick sounds pretty sexy.”
Scarlet rolled her eyes. “Oh please, this isn’t 1971.”
“What? It was just a compliment!”
Hawke looked at them all. “Why do you all look so upset? It’s just a meeting with an FSB agent, and not my first time, either.”
Eden cleared his throat and looked at Hawke. “I’m sorry Joe, but they’ve got Lea and Karlsson. They flew out of Venice a few minutes ago.”
Hawke picked up a Glock and jammed it in his belt. “Then we have to get after them, don’t we?”
“But where are they going?” Ryan asked.
“I’m not a betting man,” Eden said. “But we know their flight is heading south, and we also know Mazzarro’s research points heavily to Egypt. There’s only one place that fits all of this.”
Hawke agreed. “So let’s get on instead of waffling and we might beat them to it.”
On board Eden’s Gulfstream, Hawke closed his eyes and tried to focus. Ahead of him lay not only the difficult and dangerous task of rescuing Lea and Karlsson and stopping Vetrov, but the truth behind his wife’s murder.
More than a small part of him seriously thought it was the kind of stone better off left unturned. But a bigger part of him — the better part, the part that motivated him to get out of bed in the morning and do the right thing in life no matter the cost — understood that not knowing the truth wasn’t an option.
Now he had the worst choice of his life — whether to rescue Lea first or meet Snowcat. The Russian had sounded like she might not suffer fools gladly, and had told him if he was late for their meeting she would be gone. His mind was torn in two and he agonized over the decision he had to make. And it was that final torturous decision that plagued him as drifted to sleep.
CHAPTER SEVENTEEN
The first thing Lea saw when the bag was removed from her head was the enormous, hairy hands that had taken it off. She blinked in the bright light and tried to focus on where she was. She was staring at the same man she had seen in the Piazza San Marco — the man Richard had named as Kosma Zhuravlev. The smaller one — the bastard from the boat they called Kodiak — was nowhere in sight.
While she was blindfolded she’d been busy trying to get her bearings, so she already knew she was in an aircraft, and a very large one by the sound of the thrust at take-off. Judging by the time it took to reach cruising altitude she presumed she was at around thirty-five thousand feet. She also knew they weren’t going anywhere — the plane was just executing its tenth right-turn since reaching cruising height.
The giant padded over to Karlsson and snatched the bag from his head a moment later. Lea’s eyes widened when she saw the man looming over the American SEAL. Bradley Karlsson was one of the biggest men she had ever met but he looked pretty fragile beside this other guy.
“You get up now,” the man said in a deep, bass growl. “We see boss.”
The man sloppily pulled an old Makarov from his belt, waving them through the door and out into the corridor. He ordered them to a lift. They ascended for a few seconds before a gentle ping alerted them that they were at their destination and the doors opened to reveal a plush lounge.
“Hey,” Karlsson whispered, looking down at the carpet. “Don’t get lost in the pile.”