The curtain pulled open abruptly. A nurse appeared. Rostislawitch stared at her, confused, then saw there was someone behind her.
Thera, the girl from the conference.
Thera.
“Are you OK, Professor Rostislawitch? We heard — we thought — there was an announcement at the conference that you were dead.”
Her eyes looked puffy, Rostislawitch thought.
Thera switched to Greek, speaking rapidly, telling Rostislawitch that she’d been very concerned and come immediately.
“I am fine,” said Rostislawitch, in English. The first words seemed to break through a wall. The others were easier. “I am OK. How did you hear?”
Thera put her hand to her chest, explaining that the conference sessions had been temporarily postponed, and announcements made about the blast. His name had been mentioned.
She was lying, but for that moment her concern was real to her, and not one person out of a hundred could have detected any insincerity. She thought of what she would feel if her uncle had been hurt; he looked a little like Rostislawitch, though not as far out of shape.
“I was worried,” she repeated. “Concerned.”
Rostislawitch felt a surge of energy, then embarrassment over how he must look. “I am ready to leave,” he said, starting to get up.
“Are you sure? They said you needed X-rays.”
“X-rays?” He waved his hand, then pushed his feet over the side of the bed to the floor. “A good vodka. That is what I need.”
5
Miraculously, no one had died when the bomb exploded, but the attack had unleashed a firestorm of political and media chaos, with officials and newspeople descending on the city. Imperiati managed to stay behind the scenes, passing off the public face of the emergency to a deputy interior minister whose specialty was public relations. But the SISDE officer had no way of shucking the real responsibility, and he seemed to have aged several years when Ferguson finally managed to get to the police station in answer to several calls. Ferguson expected him to blame the U.S. for the attack, but instead his first words were, “It could have been much worse.”
Ferguson nodded.
“You were almost killed,” said Imperiati. “I thought you did not care about the Russian.”
“I don’t. I was screwing around with the bike and lost control.”
Imperiati processed the words, then raised an eyebrow. The American had an odd sense of humor.
“The police think this was a terror attack,” said Ferguson.
“And you don’t?”
“I think it’d be a pretty big coincidence,” said Ferguson. “We know T Rex is looking to strike his victim here, and make it look like a terrorist attack. And you didn’t encounter earlier intelligence of a group targeting the area.”
“How do you know that?” said Imperiati defensively.
“Because you would have told me the other day if you did. Not necessarily in words,” added Ferguson quickly. “But in the way you questioned me.”
Ferguson was correct, but the Italian intelligence officer resisted telling him so. “I have to keep an open mind,” he said.
“Sometimes that means resisting the obvious conclusions. T Rex has used a bomb like this before. Even though it wasn’t at one of the places his people scouted out, it has to be him. I can get some forensic people here to help you. Real quiet.”
“We have many experts. The work will be very thorough. The information your people have supplied has already been useful,” added Imperiati. “We will continue to share information of mutual benefit.”
Ferguson pulled the chair behind him out and sat down, studying Imperiati. He needed the Italian’s help, but he was uncomfortable saying so. He remembered something his father had told him once: it’s more difficult working with an ally than with an enemy.
When had he told him that?
Just before Moscow, where the Frenchman had screwed him, and Kiska had saved his life.
“There is something on your mind?” Imperiati asked.
“Yeah. Just before the bomb went off, I saw someone with a cell phone.”
“A cell phone was used for a trigger.” Imperiati knew this not because of any great forensic discovery but from simple police work — one of the first officers on the scene had found a portion of the bomb in a nearby yard.
Ferguson nodded as if he’d known, rather than merely suspected, this. The jammer in the art building wasn’t strong enough to affect the block where the bombing took place.
“Can you describe the person with the phone?” said Imperiati.
“I can do better than that. I know who she is: Kiska Babev. She works for the Russian FSB.”
“Is that your T Rex?”
“I don’t know. I’m not sure why she would kill Rostislawitch.”
Imperiati clapped his hands together. “But of course it makes sense. The MI6 agent, Harrison, follows an Iranian who meets with him. The Russians must be following, too — they want to eliminate him.”
“Why wouldn’t they get the Iranian then? Or just arrest our guy? Killing him means they can’t question him, find out who might be helping him, that sort of thing. Plus it can be messy. Collateral damage, as we’ve seen.”
“He is in Italy. They cannot arrest him here.”
“True. But we think T Rex is a freelancer,” said Ferguson. He was still trying to work it out himself.
“You are sure about that? You told me —
“I think we can rule me out.” Ferguson rose. “If I get you information on Kiska Babev, background, aliases, can you find out where she is?”
“I would definitely appreciate the information,” said Imperiati. “As far as finding her, I cannot guarantee. Of course we will want to find her, if she was there as you say. A witness if nothing else.”
“That’s right.”
“I assume you’re hoping I will share.”
“I’d appreciate it.”
The SISDE officer nodded. “We will do what we can.”
“You’ll have the information in ten minutes. At your e-mail address.”
6
Thomas Ciello lowered his head toward his computer, determined to ignore Debra Wu, though he knew she was standing in the doorway a few feet behind him.
“Thomas, I’m not going away,” said Wu.
“I’m busy.”
“Do you have the information Corrigan needs or not?” She turned her right hand over, glancing at her fingernails, which she’d just had done in a rose shade to match her lipstick.
“I’m getting it. Information doesn’t just appear by magic, you know. I can’t just blink my eyes and get
