countries in Europe. The Chinese and the Russians are both bidding for the contract.”
“How was Cherkesov involved?”
“At Ukengaz, it was our understanding that if Cherkesov had been elected, he’d have gone with the Russians.”
“Sounds like a motive to me,” Scorpion said. “Why didn’t Akhnetzov tell me about this?”
“Don’t use his name. Just Vadik. I have to tell you, he’s not happy.”
“Neither am I.”
“Not at all. May I smoke?”
“Set yourself on fire for all I care. Let’s talk about Vadik and the Chinese.”
“He wasn’t sure it was relevant,” Boyko replied, lighting a cigarette.
“Excuse me? The Russians and the Chinese are in competition for a pipeline worth billions. Cherkesov and Ukengaz are poised to give it to the Russians and you don’t think that gives the Chinese a motive? What planet are you from?”
“The SVR never mentioned the Chinese,” Boyko said. “This is awkward talking this way. Can I turn around?”
“No,” Scorpion said, putting his hand on Boyko’s back and moving a half step behind him. “Pyatov was a decoy to pull me off the scent. It also made me the fall guy. Everyone’s looking for me.”
“Makes you less effective. You failed. Vadik’s ready to call this whole adventure off.”
“No deal,” Scorpion said. “Our agreement was no Russian invasion. If I can stop it, he still owes me the rest of the money.”
“I’ll tell him. Anything else?”
“Who set me up? The SVR? Tell Vadik if it’s him, his money won’t save him.”
“It wasn’t him. He said even now he wants to believe in you.”
“So who was it? Gabrilov or the Chinese?”
“Gabrilov’s no genius. Maybe the Chinese?” Boyko shrugged.
“Tell me about Li Qiang.”
“You’ve made progress,” Boyko said, starting to turn his head, then stopped. “You’re right. He’s head of the Guoanbu in Kyiv.”
“I know that. Tell me what I don’t know.”
“He has a male friend.”
“How thrilling.”
“No. A special male friend,” Boyko said, emphasizing the word.
“And who’s this special friend?”
“His name is Ruslan. Ruslan Ardiev.”
“Where can I find him?”
“He performs at the Androgyne Club. Frankly, his body’s better than his voice. If not there, there’s a massage place, the Congo, on Berezhanskaya; goluboi, of course,” he added, using the Russian slang word for gay. “And watch out for Li Qiang’s bodyguard, Yang Hao. Never leaves his side.”
“Dangerous?”
“We’ve heard stories,” Boyko said.
They heard a train coming and felt a rush of cold air ahead of it as it approached the station.
“Are we boarding?” Boyko asked.
“Just wait,” Scorpion said.
“I’m not comfortable with the train coming with you behind me.”
“Funny, I’d’ve thought you’d love it,” Scorpion said.
Boyko snorted. “Cheeky boy. Not before I see what you look like.” The train stopped and opened its doors. “Are we boarding?”
“Tell Vadik what I said.”
“I will. Are you coming, Collins?”
“You go,” Scorpion said, giving him a nudge forward.
Boyko got on, turned and looked at Scorpion, who had turned and was walking away on the platform.
“Pity,” Boyko said.
Chapter Twenty-Three
Expo Plaza
Kyiv, Ukraine
The Lianhuay company office was on the ninth floor of an office building across from the Expo Plaza Exhibition Center. There were two security cameras covering the front entrance, but only one at the back. Scorpion used his Leatherman tool to chip a toehold in the wall at the back of the building, then climbed up and disabled the camera. A tap on his Peterson universal key and he was inside.
The building was dark and empty. His footsteps echoed as he climbed the stairs to the Lianhuay office. There was an alarm on the office door, but it was only single channel. It took him less than a minute to disarm it. The door lock was a card reader. He used an NSA card and waited while the software read the magnetic reader setting and opened the lock.
Before entering, he used his flashlight to check for motion detectors. He didn’t see any and went inside. It was hard to tell whose office was whose; the name plaques were in Mandarin, which he couldn’t read. But hierarchy was the same no matter what language it was in, he thought. Li Qiang would have the best office, and so he made his way to a large corner office with window views of the Expo Plaza across the way.
He turned on the desk computer, plugging his NSA drive into a USB port. The NSA software automatically figured out how to log itself into any computer with administrator privileges. It also scanned the password files for account passwords and provided English translation on the fly for all major languages, including Mandarin. While the software was running, he checked the desk drawers. In one of them he found a Chinese M-77B 9mm pistol, checked to see if it was loaded and put it back. He went through the rest of the drawers but found nothing of interest.
He hit the Start and the All Programs arrow and pressed the NSA Ctrl key combination for translation to English. Then he saw it. A client software program on the PC for the CCB Bank. Based in Beijing, CCB was one of the largest banks in the world.
Scorpion accessed the bank’s website with the software client, letting the NSA software provide the user ID and password. There were multiple accounts. This was going to take a while, he thought, settling down to open them one by one. Then he got lucky. In the second account he opened, he spotted an electronic bank transfer of $2,500 in U.S. dollars to an account in Pravex Bank, Kyiv. He didn’t bother with the NSA software, but letter by letter translated the Cyrillic account name. It belonged to Oleg Nikolayevich Gabrilov. He did a Find all search and saw repeated transfers to Gabrilov’s account in amounts ranging from $1,000 to $6,500 over the past two years.
Well well. Scorpion smiled to himself. The only thing better than having a potential Joe’s balls in a vise, he thought, was getting proof he was being paid by the wrong people.
After copying the files to the plug-in drive, he shut down the computer. Before leaving, he used an antiseptic wipe to clean everything he had touched and then rearmed the security camera. Ten minutes later he was out on the snowy street on his way to the Nyvky Metro station.
So it looked like Gabrilov was Li Qiang’s double agent in the SVR. It wasn’t about politics. It was about money. Natural gas. Maybe if he could produce the real assassin, he and Iryna would be off the hook. Maybe.
The street was cold and empty and he shivered inside his coat. Not far from the Metro station he saw an open cafe, stepped inside and ordered chorna kava, black coffee, piping hot, and gulped it down. The TV on the wall behind the counter showed a press conference going on in Washington. The President of the United States was speaking. He was warning Russia not to invade Ukraine. As a precautionary measure, he announced that he had ordered the Joint Chiefs of Staff to raise the level of American military readiness to DEFCON 2, the second highest level before war.
