“But it was done in Moldova?”
“Likely. Again, this could all be manipulated,” admitted Reid. “The records. I don’t trust the Russian banking system. It’s always been full of holes.”
“Where is the bank?”
“In the capital, Chisinau. It has some dealings with other Russian banks in Tighina. Tighina is a provincial capital, near the area under dispute with Russia. Good-sized city, at least for Moldova. Those banks are pretty small and don’t seem to have been involved. There’s a big dispute between that region and the rest of Moldova; no other banks deal with them — or with the Russians.”
“Other links?”
“Already looking for them.”
“I have to tell Danny.”
“That would make sense. There are a few other loose ends. The FBI agent Nuri took with him wants to use some of the information we developed on Moreno for her own case against him.”
Breanna nodded. They had been counting on the FBI to do just that. Anyone watching would think that Moreno, not the Wolves, was the focus of the investigation.
“Nuri also found this information. Oddly.”
A list of websites relating to Moldova came up.
“Was he planning to go there?”
“That might be a possibility,” said Reid. “They’re all recent — just the other day.
“Trying to see where his money went?”
Reid shrugged.
“Maybe he’s dissatisfied with the job,” he said. “Or maybe he’s looking to provide a bonus.”
“Was the break-in discovered?”
“Apparently not. Nuri had to drug a dog, but he covered that up. In any event, the mobster has been using the computer quite prolifically since he got up a few hours ago.”
“Since we’re in their system, maybe we can watch and see what happens,” said Breanna.
“We think more and more alike with each passing day,” said Reid.
“Scary.”
“Very.”
Breanna sat at her desk staring at an old photo of Mark Stoner for nearly a half hour before putting the call in to Danny.
Part of her hoped he wouldn’t pick up; she wanted to put off talking to him for as long as possible. The other part wanted to get past this as quickly as possible.
Danny answered on the first ring.
“Can you talk?” she asked.
“I’m at the hotel,” he told her. “It’s fine.”
“We have more information on the Wolves.” She heard her voice crack. “And I have — there’s something I didn’t give you earlier. Because — for a couple of reasons.”
“All right.”
Breanna took a deep breath.
“We think that the people involved with the Wolves have been altered — enhanced is the better word,” she said, correcting herself. She remembered her conversation with Zen the night before, how he had initially dismissed it all as science fiction nonsense. “It sounds incredible, but we think they’re the result of experiments — that their bodies have been genetically altered, with drugs and in some cases biomechanical devices.”
“They’re supermen?” said Danny.
“That would be an exaggeration. The sorts of enhancements we’re talking about, we think, would increase lung capacity, say, metabolic recovery rates. Strength might be increased through implants, bone replacements, or the exoskeleton devices, the things that you were involved in testing—”
“You mean the wing?” said Danny.
“Exactly.”
Dreamland had helped develop a device that allowed soldiers to literally fly across the battlefield. Called by various names — Rocketman was more popular than Wing, which was the Whiplash nickname — the gear was used by special operations troops for select missions. The research involved in constructing it had found a much wider application, affecting everything from parachutes to the jacks that helped ordies load bombs and missiles onto aircraft. A civilian company had used the technology to create one-man cranes and lifts, which it planned to introduce to the market in a few months.
“The truth is, we don’t have a lot of details,” continued Breanna. “We’re making guesses based on some eyewitness accounts which, as you know, aren’t always credible. But we have a video showing one of the Wolves moving with incredible speed while another puts his fist through the side of a car.”
“Wow.”
“The video is very sketchy. It’s some sort of laboratory piece. Very low resolution.”
“Not a sales brochure, huh?”
“Danny, this is serious. The sources are sensitive. Highest code word.”
“I’m sorry.”
“There’s something else. Something that affects us both.”
Breanna paused. Danny didn’t say anything, and the silence immediately struck her.
“I think — there’s some evidence,” she started, losing her steam, “that — one of the Wolves may be Mark Stoner.”
Danny still didn’t say anything.
“The— There’s a visual similarity in the video. I noticed it right away,” Breanna continued. “It’s eerie, if it’s a coincidence. It may be a coincidence. But…”
The phone line was so silent, Breanna almost wondered if she had lost the connection. But the computer would have told her if that was the case.
“The… there is other evidence,” she said. “I don’t know — it’s not conclusive, but here’s what it is. The killer on the assassination in China was drinking from a Coke bottle immediately before the murder. The Chinese gathered it and got a sample from it. They have saliva, and some drugs — he wasn’t drinking cola, it was some sort of maintenance drink we think, it had enzymes and amphetamine in it. In any event, the Chinese analysis of the DNA material has something like a seventy-three percent chance of matching Mark’s.”
The percentage had to do with the original sampling technique used in recording Stoner’s DNA in the 1990s, as well as the quality of the material the Chinese had collected and the process they used to analyze it. Breanna told Danny about the doubts some of the scientists had mentioned, and the arguments that placing an actual number on the odds of a direct match were difficult and misleading.
“Do you think it’s him?” asked Danny when she finished.
“I don’t know. I simply don’t know.”
“Wow.”
“I’m sorry I didn’t tell you earlier. I–I wasn’t — I’m not sure that it’s him.”
“It’s all right Bree. I understand.”
She could have kissed him right then. She would have, if he were there. He was taking the news a lot better than she had when she first heard about the possibility of Stoner being alive.
“The Moldova connection,” Danny prompted. “What do you make of that?”
“That may be important,” she said. “I mean — it is where Mark was shot down. On the other hand, it could be a coincidence. It is a good place if you’re looking to have some quiet banking transactions.”
“I think I ought to look into it.”
“So do I.”
