Black Widow

'I know that,' Ajza said.

The grin left Ivan's face and he shook his head sadly. 'The people who sent you here are either desperate or foolish.'

Ajza's face grew hot and she wanted to respond bravely, wanted to tell him that perhaps she'd been sent because only she could complete the mission. But she couldn't get the words out. Stubbornly she held his gaze and tried not to show the fear that flowed through her.

Ilyas had died in this country, and he'd been hunting the man she'd been sent here to ferret out. That thought remained uppermost in her mind, and not even her anger over her brother's death or her need for some sort of justice could move it aside.

'Come along, then,' Ivan said as he turned toward the forest. 'We have a long walk ahead of us and I do not want to grow too attached to you.'

31

Moscow

Moscow cooled and quieted at night. Not even the capitalist economy managed to turn that around. In the old days the Russian soldiers had kept the streets clear of loiterers. These days crime had replaced the military and kept the night in check.

Sergei thought about that as he approached the pay phone next to the convenience store off Red Square proper. The location was a short distance from his apartment building. He'd walked, instead of taking the car the police department had assigned him. Sometimes they checked mileage, and sometimes they checked the GPS locaters in the vehicles. Also, it was easier to tell if he was being followed if he was on foot.

He held a cup of coffee in one hand and dropped coins into the pay phone with the other. The warmth soaked through the cup and into his flesh. The scent tickled his nose and washed away some of the fog that curled stubbornly through his brain. He wanted to be sharp for the conversation.

He punched in a number he'd memorized and waited. The phone was picked up on the other end and a man's voice said, 'We'll call you back,' in Russian.

Sergei hung up and stood at the phone. He hated the vulnerability he felt while standing there, but there was no help for it. He also hated the insecurity that filled him.

For four years he'd worked for a clandestine agency he knew next to nothing about. Most of the time he'd merely done reconnaissance or interviews or poked around in the criminal underworld he knew. Then he'd reported back with whatever he'd discovered and never heard anything again.

All he knew was that the party he'd called was powerful and could reach into FSB's administration when necessary. Sergei's superior had assigned the extra details to him. He'd also ordered Sergei never to talk about anything he learned about whomever he worked for.

'It would be better,' the man had said, 'if you don't go asking questions, either.'

'Why?'

'Because the man who sat at this desk before me started asking questions. That's how I got his job.'

'They killed him?'

'Worse,' the man said with a grim face. 'They reassigned him to Siberia.'

Even though he was expecting it, the strident ring of the phone startled Sergei. He spilled hot coffee across his hand, then cursed at the pain. But he scooped up the phone.

'I am here,' he said.

'Thank you for coming,' the woman said. 'I know it's late there.'

Meaning that it was not late where she was? he noted.

'You have only to call,' Sergei said. 'You know that.'

'Yes, but your involvement and dedication is appreciated.' She spoke English, which he was fluent in.

A car drove by. Automatically Sergei turned inward and raised the coffee cup to shield his face. He watched the car in his peripheral vision.

'We have a situation in your country,' the woman said.

Sergei's stomach tightened. Any involvement he'd had with the woman and her cohorts had been limited to information about people in Moscow or passing through the city. He'd only been required to keep an eye on them. His job with the FSB had been more dangerous.

But the people he'd kept tabs on had sometimes disappeared or been assassinated. He wasn't sure if the agency was responsible for those assassinations or had just failed to prevent them. Neither scenario left him feeling comfortable.

'Someone is trying to smuggle a cache of American weapons into Russia,' the woman said.

Sergei's pulse sped up a little. He said nothing. He'd learned not to respond unless asked to.

'We've been able to trace some of the money,' the woman told him. 'A few hours ago we found out some of that money came from a man named Joseph Kirinov. We know you're familiar with Kirinov.'

Sergei hesitated only a moment, wondering how much she knew. 'Yes.'

'I'm told your partner shot Kirinov yesterday.'

'That is correct.' Sergei wondered how the woman had access to information so quickly. The old paranoia he'd learned from his father crept into his mind.

Remember this always, my son, his father had said. The KGB is always watching. They wait for us to make mistakes.

'Kirinov was at the hotel to see a woman,' the voice said.

'Yes.' Sergei's hand holding the coffee cup shook as he wondered how much to say. 'Her name is Irina…'

'Rachmanov. Yes, we're aware of her.'

Sergei felt embarrassed. 'I did not know her last name.'

'Why?'

'My partner did not tell me her last name.'

'We'd noticed that Irina Rachmanov wasn't arrested.'

'My partner — we— felt it would be better if she weren't.' Sergei lied because he wasn't going to let Mikhalkov take the blame for the decision. Sergei could have arrested the woman himself at any time.

'Why?'

'My partner has a history with her,' he answered honestly.

The phone connection buzzed for a moment.

'Your partner's career record is spotty,' the woman said finally.

'He's been in law enforcement in this country for a long time.'

'Do you trust him?'

That was the question Sergei asked himself nearly every day of his life. So far he had always known the answer.

'With my life,' he replied, though some days that wasn't by choice.

'We need to know what Rachmanov knows about Kirinov's business.'

After a moment's deliberation Sergei brought the woman up-to-date on Irina's information regarding the American weapons. He also relayed Irina's consternation at the use for them.

'Do you think she's told you all she knows?' the woman asked when he'd finished.

'I do not know her well enough to guess,' Sergei admitted.

'Does Mikhalkov?'

That was another puzzle. 'I do not know.'

'Find out,' the woman said. 'We need that information as soon as you can get it.'

'What is going on?'

'At the moment,' the woman told him, 'you know as much as we do. Be careful working this one. It's close to home for you.'

The phone went dead.