Anya smiled. “This iswonderful trick. But why do I need to see this?”
“You don’t justneed to see it. You need to master it. It’s called theFrench Drop, and this is how it works.”
Veronica talked Anyathrough the sleight-of-hand mechanics of the simple trick. After afew dozen iterations, each a little better than the previous, Anyacould convincingly make the marble vanish.
“Good,” Veronicasaid. “Now, let me show you a variation.” She placed the whitemarble, once again, between the thumb and forefinger of her lefthand, passed the right over, apparently lifting the marble as shewent. “Now, you tap the right hand.”
Anya leaned forward andtouched the back of Veronica’s right hand. She opened her fist toreveal a single black marble instead of the white one she had begunthe trick with.
Anya gasped. “This isbetter trick. Teach this to me.”
Veronica did, and soon,Anya had mastered the more complex movements of exchanging the blackmarble for the white one.
Veronica collected themarbles and pocketed them before producing two diamond-shaped piecesof painted glass about one fourth the size of the marbles. “Now,try with these.”
Anya fumbled throughthe clumsiness with the smaller objects until she had the mechanicsof the movements but still lacked the smooth flow of Veronica’shands.
Volkov stood from hisseat and took a knee beside the two women. “How is your studentcoming along?”
Veronica turned to him.“Very well. She’ll be a master by the end of the day.”
Volkov turned to Anya.“Keep practicing, and Veronica will teach the advanced class on theflight home this evening.”
Anya asked, “Are youtaking me all the way to Nova Scotia to learn magic tricks?”
Viktor considered herquestion. “Yes, that’s precisely what we’re doing.”
The flight attendantmade her way through the cabin. “We’re starting our descent now.We’ll be on the ground in fifteen minutes.”
Volkov returned to hisseat, and everyone buckled in. The landing gear came down, and thepilots made a landing so smooth it was almost impossible to know whenthe jet stopped flying and started rolling.
Anya leaned toward thewindow. “This is not Halifax.”
Volkov said, “No,it’s Yarmouth, about two hundred kilometers southwest of Halifax.”
She slid her handsbeneath the blanket, feeling for her phone. She prayed the phone hadfound a local connection and that her thumb strokes were close enoughto send the desired message.
She typed YarmouthVeronique Volkov, and pressed what she hoped was the send key. Thesleight-of-hand she’d learned on the flight made her manipulationof the cell phone far less clumsy.
The jet rolled to astop and was, once again, towed into a waiting hangar. The flightattendant opened the door and deployed the stairs. Veronica led theway from the plane, followed by Anya and then Volkov. A white RangeRover waited just beyond the wing tip, and Viktor ushered the womentoward the vehicle.
Anya wasn’t surprisedto see who was behind the wheel when she slid onto the rear seat.“Hello, Sascha.”
He turned withanticipation in his eyes. “Hello, Ms. Anya. Where is your friend?”
“You mean Gwynn?”
He smiled and nodded.
“I am afraid she isworking today, but I think she would like to see you again soon.”
He extended his hand,offering a card. “Have her call me anytime. I’d love to see heragain, as well.”
Anya took the card,gave it a cursory glance, and slid it into her pocket.
When Volkov wasensconced in the front seat beside his partner, Sascha pulled fromthe hangar and through the airport gate. The two-lane road was wornbut sound, and the Land Rover gave them a smooth, comfortable rideacross the rugged pavement.
“Where are we going?”Anya asked.
“We’re headed to aplace called Melbourne Lake to Dr. Sascha’s laboratory. I thinkyou’ll find it fascinating.”
The residential areanear the airport soon gave way to tall evergreens and low green scrubbrush. The scenery reminded Anya of the road leading from the chaosof Moscow to Sparrow school, tucked into the forest north of themassive city. The thought of what she endured in the dark, cold woodssent chills down her spine, and the bitter taste of hatred for themen who’d made her do things no teenage girl should ever have toexperience left her mouth dry. Suddenly, Viktor Volkov was one ofthose men. The desire to draw her blade, insert it above the clavicleon the right side of his neck, and carve out his trachea was almosttoo much to resist.
26
PEKARNYA
(THEBAKERY)
The assassin breathedin measured cadence: in through her nose and slowly out through hermouth until the need to tear the life from within Viktor Volkov forsins he’d never committed waned.
The paved road becamegravel, and soon, a majestic shallow lake appeared through the treesas the stands of timber opened onto a wetland plain spreading to thesouthwest. The countryside was breathtakingly beautiful, with the fewdrifting white clouds in the endless blue sky reflecting from theglasslike surface of the serene lake.
Sascha pulled the LandRover from the gravel drive and onto a concrete approach to a lockedgate. A few keystrokes Anya couldn’t see sent the first gaterolling along its tubular track, and they pulled forward into a sallyport between gates. When the first gate had fully closed, Saschaentered a different code into the waiting keypad. Anya tried toimagine which tones corresponded with which keys, but she couldn’twork it out. Soon, the second gate slid away just like the first onehad, and they drove through.
Anya surveyed thesecurity and counted four Belgian Malinois patrolling dogs along theperimeter of the five-meter-tall fence with coiled concertina runningthe length of the top. As they approached the only building insidethe compound, she counted six security cameras with the tell-talebulbous dome of motion detectors beneath each one.
They pulled beneath anawning on the northwest side of the building and came to a stop.
Veronica emptied herpockets into a plastic tray on the seat next to her and whispered,“Take everything out of your pockets, especially your cell phone.We’re not allowed to take anything inside.”
She pulled herjeweler’s loupe and locking tweezers from her pocket and depositedthem into the tray. As she pulled her cell phone from its position,she thumbed the screen to life and noticed a one-word text fromSkipper.
Tracking.
She deleted theconversation as covertly as possible and added the phone to thecontents of
