Alexei made his decision, tapped in 911, and told the dispatcher the location of the agent.
He found a tarp in the back of the cab, took it to the river, and wrapped it snugly around Bowers’s body to at least afford him some protection from the wind. Then he carried him closer to the bridge, and jammed a tall stick into the snow beside him so EMS would be able to find the agent if the snow covered him before they arrived.
It might not be enough, but it was something.
Then he returned to the vehicle, released the air brakes, and took to the road to put some distance between himself and the river.
It was time to find out who was really leading Eco-Tech, and what exactly they were up to.
Cell phone in hand, he punched in Valkyrie’s number and access code.
34
Alexei waited twelve rings, but Valkyrie did not answer.
He lowered the phone.
Nothing about this felt right on any level.
Maybe it’d all been a setup from the start, from that very first conversation with his mysterious employer last spring. But why? Just to make him look guilty for the death of a woman and her child? Could that be all? There had to be more.
He’d never had any trouble with Valkyrie before.
Yesterday, when Alexei had first heard about the Pickron murders, he’d tried to let the news of their deaths slide off him, tried not to let it distract him, but it’d crawled around in the back of his mind ever since. Bothering him.
You do not kill children.
And you do not kill women.
Alexei had eliminated his share of targets over the years, but it was not in his nature to take the lives of those he felt the need to protect.
And now as he thought about the woman and her daughter dying yesterday, a fresh gust of anger swept through him.
You do not kill women.
You do not.
He remembered the day he found Tatiana in their apartment in Moscow.
The argument they’d had earlier in the afternoon. Telling her that he never wanted to see her again. Words he didn’t mean. Words he would always regret.
And then discovering her body.
The bullet wound in her forehead.
The blood still spreading out, soaking into the creamy white cotton sheets.
His frantic and fruitless search for her killer.
After his wife’s murder, Alexei had vowed that when he found the person who’d killed her, he would return the favor, but her killer’s passing would not be as quick as hers. At first Alexei would make that person beg for his life, but he was confident that there would come a time when the murderer would beg for the opposite. Alexei planned to make death the most desirable outcome of all, and then, to withhold that from his captive for as long as possible.
And Alexei had skills. The process would go on for a while.
But now, shaking those thoughts loose, he tried to direct his attention to the matters at hand.
The wise move at this point would be to leave the area, but before he did that, he wanted some answers.
He doubted that Valkyrie would have left the remaining $1,000,000 at the dead drop, and it didn’t look like he would be delivering the money to Eco-Tech after all.
But he could put it to other use-if he could retrieve it.
He phoned Nikolai Demidenko again and said, “I need whatever you can get me on this number.” He passed along the phone number and the alphanumeric pass code for reaching Valkyrie. “Trust me when I tell you that if you can lead me to Valkyrie, I will make it worth your while.” He also told him the information he’d gotten from Rear Admiral Colberg the day before.
“All right, my brother. I will find this Valkyrie for you. You have my word.”
Alexei had an idea of where to go from here, but it meant switching vehicles and then returning to the house where he’d left his equipment-after picking up the remaining $1,000,000 from Valkyrie’s prearranged drop site.
If it was even going to be there waiting for him at all.
Tessa was having a hard time.
The roads were a mess.
She’d passed a small roadside motel about a half hour ago but had figured she should press on. Now, she wasn’t so sure that’d been a good idea.
She didn’t even know where she was, but at this rate she guessed it would still be another couple hours to Woodborough, where she was gonna meet up with Patrick. To make matters worse, the rental car hadn’t been handling the cold or the roads very well, stalling out twice and not grabbing the pavement like it should. Three times in the last twenty minutes she’d slid precariously close to the ditch when she hit patches of ice.
So, status report: in the middle of nowhere, not making good time on roads that were becoming more and more impassable.
Brilliant.
Though she wasn’t looking forward to his reaction, she decided she needed to call Patrick, tell him what was up. But when she tried his number, Sean answered.
After a quick greeting she asked if she could talk with her stepdad.
“He’s working on the case,” Sean said simply. “Where are you?”
“I have no idea.” She explained her situation, that she was on her way and caught in the middle of the storm.
“Did you get to Hayward yet?”
All these little towns ran together in her mind. Besides, the snow was distracting and the visibility horrible. “I don’t think so. I’m not sure.”
“What kind of car are you driving?”
Okay, odd question.
“Some kind of Chevy sedan thing.”
“All right, that’s all right. Are you good with gas?” She could sense an underlying urgency in his questions, though it seemed like he was trying his best to downplay it.
She’d been so focused on the roads that she hadn’t even been keeping an eye on the gas gauge and now saw that she had less than a quarter tank. She told Sean, and a moment later passed a sign that announced it was ten miles to Hayward. She relayed her location to her stepuncle.
“Tessa, in about five miles you should come to a bar called Lindberg’s; just explain that you’re my niece and that I told you to wait there for me, and Larry will let you in. It’ll be on the right. I’m coming to get you.”
“It’s okay, I-”
“You don’t need to be out in this weather, not in that car. Pat would never forgive me if I let you drive the rest of the way.”
“No, seriously, I’ll be-”
“I’m coming to get you.” His voice rang with the same resolve and assurance that Patrick’s so often held, and in a way it comforted her. “Go to Lindberg’s. Get a burger. Wait for me. I’ll be there as soon as I can.”
Ew. A burger.
Not.
But this wasn’t exactly the time to tell Sean she was a vegan.
“In this weather it’ll take me at least an hour,” he told her. “I don’t want you on the roads. Be careful. I’ll see
