Chapter Twenty-Nine
Vyshhorod
Kyiv, Ukraine
Scorpion drove out of the park past a large public building, checking his mirrors. Iryna was in the backseat with Alyona.
“Where are we going?” Iryna asked.
“We need someplace safe.”
“There is no safe. We need a doctor.” She thought for a moment. “There’s a Medikom out by Vyshhorod.”
“What’s that?”
“A twenty-four-hour private clinic. I took a girlfriend there once. I don’t know how safe it would be.”
“Call them,” Scorpion said. “Tell them it’s an emergency, but it needs discretion. Tell them you’ll give them money.”
Iryna called on her cell phone. He heard her talking softly, urgently. When she finished, she said, “They’re waiting. I told them I’d give them each a hundred hryvnia extra. They said to come around to the back door.” She gave him directions and soon they were driving on Kostyantynivska past the university. Iryna put her arm around Alyona, who was barely able to sit upright.
“How is she?” Scorpion asked, trying to avoid skidding, the streets icy with frozen slush.
“I don’t know. Pereproshuyu,” she said to Alyona. I’m sorry. “We thought you were dead.”
Alyona looked at her as though from far away. “It was Dimitri’s idea. Dimitri Shelayev,” she clarified, her voice shaking. “He thought it would protect me.”
“You and Shelayev were lovers?” Scorpion asked, glancing at her in the rearview mirror.
Alyona nodded. She began to cry and pressed her face to Iryna’s shoulder.
“Bud’laska, vybachte mene,” she sobbed. “Forgive me! I did not want to lie to you. I had no choice.”
“What about Pyatov?” Scorpion asked.
“Can’t you let her alone?” Iryna said sharply.
“No. Where does Pyatov fit in all this?”
“We told him about us,” Alyona said, her voice shaky, almost dreamy. “Dimitri and me. Pyatov was like crazy man.”
“He was jealous?” Iryna asked.
“He was crazy jealous. I was afraid. I knew he was secretly working with the Cherkesov campaign. At first I thought Dimitri was his contact. But Dimitri told me no.”
“You spied on us,” Iryna said. “You gave information to the SVR.”
“No, not SVR. I wouldn’t give to Russians. It was for the SBU,” Alyona said, looking up.
“They false-flagged her,” Scorpion said. “She thought she was spying for the SBU, but it was Gabrilov, the SVR.”
“Why?” Iryna said to her. “Didn’t we treat you like one of our own?”
“I loved you,” Alyona said, grabbing Iryna’s hand. “You are the hope of our country, especially for women. I didn’t want to do it. Please believe me.” She kissed Iryna’s hand.
“Why did you do it?” Scorpion asked. He had spotted a militsiyu van behind him in the rearview mirror. He drove carefully, keeping them in sight. They couldn’t afford to be stopped. Not now! He breathed a sigh of relief when the van turned off toward the university.
“My brother, Stepan,” Alyona said, looking down.
“The one in Pavlovka, the mental hospital?” Iryna said.
“You know?!” Alyona said, her eyes wide.
Iryna nodded. “You were afraid?”
“They said they would release him. My maty cannot take care of him. He is very bad. I was afraid… And now there is no Dimitri! He is gone.” She looked at them, her eyes wet.
“So we had two assassins: Pyatov and Shelayev,” Scorpion said. “Who was Pyatov supposed to kill?”
“It was a secret,” Alyona said. “Pyatov would kill Davydenko, and Cherkesov would blame it on the Kozhanovskiy campaign.”
“Sure,” Scorpion said. “Cherkesov puts it out that he was the target. He gets a sympathy vote boost, destroys Kozhanovskiy, and he gets rid of a rival, all at the same time. Meanwhile Gorobets schemes to get rid of Cherkesov first. Quite a nest of vipers, Svoboda.”
“Sirhiy was a fool. I tried to tell him. He wouldn’t listen.”
“The blood in your apartment. Where did it come from?” Scorpion asked.
“It was Dimitri’s idea. I used my own blood. It was my time of the month. It had my DNA. Dimitri said if people thought I was dead it would protect me.”
She was breathing heavily, speaking in spurts. Scorpion knew she could go into shock any second. He had to get her medical help soon. He sped up, despite the chance it might attract the politsiy.
“Did Shelayev put the bomb in Cherkesov’s car?” he asked. “It would have been easier for him than anyone. He was Gorobets’s security man.”
“I didn’t know. He told me Cherkesov had to be stopped. He had learned something.”
“What was it?”
“He didn’t tell,” Alyona cried, burying her face on Iryna’s shoulder.
“Where’s Dimitri now?” Scorpion asked. Shelayev had the answer to the riddle. He was also the only evidence, Scorpion thought that would prove that he and Iryna had nothing to do with Cherkesov’s assassination and maybe stop the war. Producing him alive was the only chance they had.
“I don’t know,” Alyona said. “He wouldn’t say. Only that when it was safe, if he was still alive, he would come for me.” She grabbed Iryna’s hands. “If he did this, he had a reason.”
“We need to talk to him,” Iryna said. “Everyone thinks we killed Cherkesov,” indicating herself and Scorpion.
“I don’t know where he is. He was protecting me,” Alyona said. She took out a cigarette, but her hands were shaking so much that once again Iryna had to light and hold it for her. Alyona inhaled and spoke with a shaky voice. She was breathing heavily, almost panting. Scorpion thought she might pass out any minute. “He said… he going… where no one… find him. I wanted… go… but my maty…”
“Your maty,” Iryna said. “She’s gone. I’m sorry.”
Alyona whimpered. Her eyes were shiny, but she didn’t cry. Scorpion guessed she had been through so much she was numb. Iryna gave him directions.
They went across a bridge over a frozen inlet of the Dnieper. The clinic was on the northern outskirts of the city; fields of snow stretched into the distance. To the right, he saw the clinic standing by itself, a yellow ambulance parked by the entrance. He drove into the parking lot and parked at the back of the building.
They helped Alyona out of the car. She couldn’t walk. Scorpion picked her up and carried her. They knocked at the back door until a nurse let them in. Iryna spoke to her, gave her money, and the nurse led them to a private examining room. Scorpion laid Alyona down on the examining table.
A minute later the nurse came back with a doctor, a middle-aged man with a jowly neck. His badge read: DR. YAKOVENKO. He took one look at Alyona, then at Iryna and Scorpion.
“ Ya znayu, chto vy,” he said to Iryna in Russian. I know you. “You’re wanted by the militsiyu.” He started toward the door. Scorpion stood in his way, showed him the Glock.
“You’re a doctor. She needs help. I’ll give you five hundred if you keep quiet about this,” he said in Russian.
“Otvali,” Dr. Yakovenko muttered. Go to hell. But he went over to examine Alyona. His expression changed when he saw the cuts and bruises. He turned on Scorpion.
“Did you do this?”
Scorpion shook his head no.
Iryna touched the doctor’s arm. “Someone else. He saved her,” she said, indicating Scorpion.
Frowning, Dr. Yakovenko went back to examining Alyona. He pressed her abdomen and she cried out in pain. He shook his head and after a moment sent the nurse out, telling her to get the operating room ready and start an
