Black Widow

'No. You are only protecting him.'

'You never know when to quit, Vasily. That is why you lost your family.'

Mikhalkov said nothing. His gaze continued boring into the woman's eyes.

'All right.' She sighed. 'But I will not testify to what I am about to tell you.'

'Of course.'

'I would not live long enough. Even this man, I think he works for someone else. He acts afraid for his life.'

'Do you know what Ivanov was doing?'

'Some business with Kirinov.' Ulyana took a puff from her cigar. 'I was told you killed Kirinov.'

'I did.'

'How did it make you feel?'

Mikhalkov shrugged. 'Sad. A little. But I was glad to still be alive.'

'There was a lot of bad blood between the two of you. Irina was only the latest thing.'

'That is history.'

Ulyana smiled. 'All of that never gets far from your thoughts. You are Russian, after all. You cannot be you without your guilt and pain.'

'I feel less of it these days.'

'Good for you.'

'I need the man's name,' Mikhalkov prompted.

Ulyana hesitated only for a moment more. 'Pasternak. Anton Pasternak.'

Sergei recognized the name immediately. The man was highly connected within the Russian Mafiya. Pasternak was known as a killer and didn't brook trouble from others.

'Do you know him?' Ulyana asked.

'Of course,' Mikhalkov responded. 'There are few in my business who do not know him.'

'Then you are aware that simply knowing his name at this point puts me in danger.'

'Yes. Upon further reflection, it might be better if you took some vacation out of Russia.'

'I have a business to run.'

'You will not be able to manage your business if you are not breathing.'

She nodded.

'How did you get involved with this?' Mikhalkov asked.

'Through Kirinov.'

'Kirinov?'

Ulyana nodded. 'Kirinov and Pasternak were working together.'

'They were enemies.' Mikhalkov was clearly surprised, though Sergei felt certain someone who didn't know him well wouldn't have caught that brief flicker.

'Not in this, they were not,' Ulyana said.

'Mutual profit would not have brought them together. They hated each other,' the old cop said.

'No,' Ulyana agreed. 'There was outside pressure.'

'What outside pressure?'

'I don't know, Vasily.'

Mikhalkov was silent for a moment. 'My presence here will not be easy for you to explain. And Pasternak — and whoever his master is — will know where I got this information.'

'I know.' Ulyana seemed resigned.

'Go then. Get out of Moscow at least. Better if you were to leave the country.'

'I will.' The woman looked at Mikhalkov and smiled a little. 'You are going to pursue this, yes?'

'Yes.'

'It is foolish.'

'It is what I do.'

Ulyana stepped into Mikhalkov and kissed him on the mouth. Then she turned to Sergei. 'See that you take care of him. His kind, they are like the dinosaur. A dying breed. You will not see his like again any time soon.'

'I know,' Sergei said, wondering at the change in the woman's attitude.

Without another word, Ulyana slipped into the waiting sports car.

Sergei watched her leave. 'Do you think we can trust her?'

'In this? Yes. They threatened her.'

Sergei looked at the old man.

'Ulyana does not like being threatened. They did not know her well enough to understand that. That was Kirinov's and Pasternak's mistake.'

'If you believe her, we need to find Pasternak.'

'We will.' Mikhalkov shot his cuff back and checked his watch. 'The night is still young. Let us go call on Pasternak before he has a chance to think about this.'

38

Outside Chechnya

Most of the morning's chill had departed by the time Ajza arrived at the campsite. She rode by herself and had grown numb to the mountain pony's irregular gait across the broken terrain.

For the first time since spying on the campsite, she realized how isolated the area was. No roads led into the campsite, and the hilly ground wasn't stable enough for a vehicle. Jeeps would have become mired in the soft earth or broken on jagged rock. A tank or an armored transport wouldn't have had enough traction on the steep incline to make the climb.

With all the ways to vanish into the surrounding mountainous land, the location was a good choice for a camp. The site was vulnerable only to aerial attack. Ajza couldn't help glancing at the sky.

Armed men stationed at security checkpoints kept careful watch over everyone who came and went from the camp along the winding trails that led down the mountain. Women cooked at community pots over banked fires. Small children clung to the women's legs. None of the children appeared to be older than eight. Ajza supposed the older children were farmed out as cheap labor. She didn't want to consider any other possibilities.

Taburova drew his horse in and dismounted. He slid his assault rifle free of the scabbard and slung the weapon over one shoulder. He gestured to Ajza to dismount.

Ajza swung her right leg over the pony's rump and slid to the ground. Her thighs ached after spending hours in the saddle. They'd ridden all night, then stopped for a few hours' sleep and got back under way when dawn flared in the eastern sky. Never once had Taburova or the other men tried to harm her or give her any reason to distrust them.

'I know this does not look like much,' Taburova said, 'but we are to ourselves here. No one bothers us because they do not feel that following such a course of action would be beneficial. Too much risk and not enough gain.'

Ajza thought about the cache of American weapons Taburova was trying to get his hands on. If anyone knew about that, the motivation would increase a thousandfold.

But they don't know, Ajza reminded herself. You don't even know that yet. He might not even bring them here. That's what you're here to find out.

She nodded and didn't say anything. Keeping in mind that she wasn't there to save the women and children was hard. She'd been in similar positions, though, and knew she could walk away if she had to. But she hoped she would never reach a time when a choice to remain inactive would seem right.

'Take a few minutes to get yourself together,' Taburova said. 'Get some breakfast and fresh clothing. Once you have done that, we will talk.'

'All right,' Ajza said.

Taburova turned and searched the crowds of women for a moment. Then he gestured to one of them. 'Come. See to our new guest.'

The woman, a pallid scarecrow dressed in little more than rags, stood slowly and walked over to Ajza. The