Silent Thunder

of comfort and security when she was with him.

'Ah. Here we are.' Kirov stopped. '318 East 51^st Street. Nice place, don't you think?'

It was a converted brownstone with a fresh brick facade, red canopy, and a brass plaque that read CONNECTIONS INTERNATIONAL.

'Terrible name,' Kirov said, as they climbed the short flight of stairs and rang the doorbell. 'I told Eugenia she should have used more imagination. It sounds like a dating service.'

A youthful female voice came from the speaker box. 'Yes?'

Kirov looked up at a security camera and winked.

Laughter pealed from the speaker box. 'Kirov, you devil. I knew you couldn't stay away. You're powerless to resist me, you know.' The voice was an intriguing mixture of Russian and British accents.

'So you keep telling me, Eugenia. Are you going to buzz me in, or am I going to stand out here like a panhandler?'

'I'm still deciding. I'm offended that, after all these months, you finally choose to visit me with such a pretty young woman at your side. Tsk, tsk. Very bad form, Kirov.'

'You know I only have eyes for you, my dear.'

'Ah, that's the charming liar I know and love.'

The door buzzed. Kirov opened it and held it open for Hannah as they entered the foyer.

Before they'd even closed the door behind them, a petite young woman flew down a flight of stairs and threw her arms around Kirov. 'I can't believe it! I thought you were dead, or worse, married and living in the suburbs!' She drew back and checked his left hand. 'You're not, are you?'

Kirov smiled and kissed her cheek. 'You know me better than that.' He motioned to Hannah. 'Eugenia, this is-'

Before Kirov could finish the sentence, Eugenia threw her arms around Hannah as if they were long-lost friends. 'So nice to meet you! You are-?'

'Hannah Bryson.'

'Hannah!' Eugenia gave her another squeeze and frowned as she felt Hannah instinctively pull back. 'Too much? Kirov keeps telling me I'm too demonstrative, but life's too short to curl up inside yourself like a snail. And any friend of Kirov's and all that… You are a friend?'

Hannah smiled. Eugenia's high spirits were contagious. Although Kirov indicated the woman had worked for the KGB more than a decade before, she couldn't be older than her late twenties or early thirties. She was a pretty, fair-skinned woman with shoulder-length brown hair and bright, lively dark eyes.

'Actually, we're more acquaintances than friends.'

'Oh, then I take back the hug. But I like your honesty. Come along.'

Kirov and Hannah followed Eugenia up the stairs to see that the entire second floor had been converted to a large, sleek office that looked as if it should have been the home base for the CEO of a Fortune 500 company.

'You like my office?' Eugenia said.

'It's beautiful,' Hannah said, admiring the granite countertops, marble floor, and tall mahogany shelves.

'I hate it,' Eugenia said. 'It's not me at all. Too showy. But, if the head of a multibillion-dollar corporation is going to trust me to expand his company into Russia, he needs to see this to feel comfortable. I do most of my real work upstairs.' Eugenia motioned for them to follow her. 'We can talk up there.'

They climbed another flight until they found themselves in a room about half the size of Eugenia's office. Hannah's initial impression was that they'd somehow stumbled upon a college dorm room. The walls were hot pink and decorated with posters of the Beatles, the Clash, and Bruce Springsteen. A Jimi Hendrix solo blared from the small stereo even though Hannah had heard no trace of it on the floor below.

Eugenia smiled proudly. 'Much more personality, yes?'

Hannah nodded. 'Yes. I like it.'

Eugenia turned to Kirov. 'I was most surprised to hear that the Silent Thunder lives. I thought it was sold for scrap and now part of thousands of poorly made Russian automobiles.'

'No one was more surprised than I. Hannah is overseeing its modifications for the museum exhibit.' He turned to Hannah. 'I called Eugenia last night and brought her up to speed about the situation.'

'It was very sad about your brother,' Eugenia said. 'I'm sorry for your sorrow. And I met Anton Leonovsky a few times, and I'm extremely happy to hear the bastard met such a horrible end.'

'Then translate that happiness into action,' Kirov said.

Eugenia smile faded. 'Are you pushing, my friend? I don't like to be pushed.'

For the first time Hannah saw the steel beneath that effervescent exterior. Tough. Very tough.

'Do you take me for a fool?' Kirov asked. 'I'm not about to ruffle your feathers by taking you for granted.'

Eugenia was silent for a moment, and then smiled. 'I look gorgeous with ruffled feathers, and no one has a better right to take me for granted than you. What do you need from me?'

Kirov looked at Hannah. 'Hit her now before she changes her mind.'

'I need to know who killed my brother,' Hannah said. 'And I need to know where to find him.'

'I have no crystal ball.' Eugenia turned to Kirov. 'I thought you said it was Pavski?'

'Hannah doesn't entirely trust my word on that.'

'When you're such a straightforward, uncomplicated bastard?' She smiled at Hannah. 'You're wise to doubt him if you have no proof. I certainly did at one time. But the chances are it's Pavski, or Kirov wouldn't be interested.'

'Thanks for the unstinting recommendation,' Kirov said dryly.

'I'd give you an unqualified recommendation in many circumstances, but not where Pavski is concerned.' Her tone became businesslike. 'If you want help, give me specifics.'

'My source in Moscow told me that Pavski has sent out word that he's revving up for a big operation and needs extra manpower.' He nodded at Hannah. 'And her contribution to the drain on his manpower may make the recruiting even more urgent. He lost two more at that gas station.' He paused. 'And Pavski wanted something else that he didn't broadcast far and wide. He contacted a few old GRU contacts and asked to be sent certain records.'

'What records?'

Kirov shrugged. 'I don't know. I was lucky to get that much.'

'And who is your Moscow source?' Eugenia asked.

'Blenoff.'

'He's usually at least eighty percent accurate. It's probably worth acting on.'

'I'm glad you don't think I'm spinning my wheels,' he said dryly. 'Since Pavski doesn't trust Americans, he's probably recruiting all his help from Russia.'

'And?'

'You know the players, in Moscow and here, like no one else. If a Russian acquired a doctored passport to slip into the country, you'd be our best hope of finding out about it. I need to know who they are, how many, and who sent them.'

'I'm surprised you don't want me to try to grab those GRU records,' she said sarcastically.

'Considering you have such great contacts, I was considering it.'

'I can try to find out what files they were, but that's the limit. The KGB and GRU were never good friends. Is that all?'

'A current street address would be nice.'

'Of course.' Eugenia shook her head. 'Russia is a big country, and so is America. There's no way I can track the comings and goings of each and every-'

'Not each and every,' Kirov said. 'Probably ex-government men. Men who might want to slip into the country undetected. Maybe some with a naval background. You know the people who can facilitate that kind of thing, don't you? There can't be that many.'

'You'd be surprised.' She thought for a moment. 'But there aren't many who can do it well enough to suit the likes of Pavski. I can look into it, but it's still no guarantee that I'll be able-'

'We don't expect guarantees. Just your best effort. I'll pay well, Eugenia. Do we have a deal?'

She wrinkled her nose at him. 'A deal? No.'