Kate's Gifts

  Val Tires

  The day for Misha and Valarie has come to the end and so has their time in America. The official plan is to take one of Stani’s packages to a place known as Site R, a National Command Authority bunker complex just outside Ft. Ritchie, Maryland, one of several such places around the Washington area and particularity close to Camp David. There they are to detonate the weapon, taking the facility out. They have a different plan, though, like making a run for the Mexican border with the nuclear bomb for sale.

  Misha is emptying the office safe.

  “How much?” Valarie asks as he packs a few personal things along with his weapons.

  “Twenty-five,” Misha tells him.

  Val snorts in disgust. “We should have gone to the bank.”

  “In Mexico, this will keep us drunk for some time,” Misha reassures him.

  “Yes, but we will have to get used to tequila.”

  Misha closes the safe. “I can think of worse things to get used to.”

  “Like being dead?” Valarie suggests. They both laugh at the gallows humor. They stop, hearing a rapping at the front door.

  They both freeze. If it’s Stani, they’re fucked.

  “Who is that?” Val snarls.

  “What do I look like, a psychic?” Mish snaps.

  Val grabs his gun and shoves it into his coverall pocket. “Put that shit away, just in case it’s him.”

  Val cautiously heads to the storefront. Outside is a rather attractive blonde. For a second he thinks it’s Katrina. Behind her, steam spills out from under the hood of her car. He waves her off. “Closed! Closed for the night.”

  “I’m afraid to drive any farther and break down on the road. It’s been smoking for a while. Could you at least tell me what I should do?” the young woman pleads.

  “Who is it Val?” Misha calls from the back room.

  “A young lady in need of help.”

  He unlocks the door for her. “You can leave it here and we’ll look at it first thing in the morning,” he suggests.

  “Do I just leave you the keys?” Elayna asks.

  Misha comes out from the back room, looking past them at the car outside. “Oh oh, angry car.” he playfully frowns, trying to make light of the situation. “Good-looking chick,” he thinks as she smiles back.

  “It’s never given me problems before,” she says nervously.

  Val gestures to her to join him at the counter. “It’s probably just a hose. Let me get your information, and I’ll write up a ticket for the morning crew,” he says, grabbing an invoice.

  She waits until he is ready with the pen. “It’s Kate Wilson, 7209 Woodcrest Road.”

  Val jots down the information as Misha looks over his shoulder, doing his best to flirt, which she doesn’t seem to mind. “Okay, I just need your keys.”

  “Here you are. By the way, do you have a bathroom I could use?”

  Misha smiles. “Just around the corner.”

  “Thanks!” she says. They both watch her ass as she walks away. Misha raises an eyebrow.

  “Do we have time for that?” Val smiles.

  “I don’t see why not, we’re never coming back here.” Misha grins darkly.

  They walk back to the office, which looks out over the service bays. Val places the work order in the “to do” box out of habit. Suddenly, they turn to find the woman standing inside their office door.

  “You guys have been great,” she says, slinking into the room. “Have you ever gone two on one?”

  They look at each other, both with a bemused face until they look back at her. Now they both look and feel stupid, seeing her silenced 9mm.

  “What the fuck is this? A robbery?” Val asks angrily.

  She answers in Russian. “The only things I need to take from you are your lives.”

  Their jaws drop. “Who are you!” Misha demands.

  “I am from the home office. I am to terminate your mission.”

  “Well actually, we weren’t going to carry it out!” Val laughs.

  Elayna laughs along too. “Oh, really? Wrong answer. We don’t like it when people refuse to carry out orders.”

  Misha tries to say something, but Elayna cuts him off with a perfectly placed round to his forehead and two to the chest. Her shooting astonishes Val as he watches his friend go down. Misha’s face doesn’t even react. Realizing it’s his turn, he looks at her, but for some reason she doesn’t shoot. She just continues to smile.

  “Don’t fuck with me, honey.”

  “You seemed willing to fuck me,” she taunts. He can’t argue with her.

  “You’re right, I should,” She shoots him in mid-sentence, right in the mouth. The two in the chest are followed by one more in the groin after he’s down. She stands over them now, the rush coursing through her veins, her heart pounding. It feels incredible. Even the pain from Eddy’s wound is gone.

  “Wow!”

  She doesn’t want to moment to end, breathing in the metallic scent of the blood and reaching into her pants to touch herself. All the power of the universe is flowing through her, right to the tip of her finger. She feels not a hint of remorse. A thought deep down inside says, “More.”

  She turns off the lights and locks the front door and calmly strolls over to the truck and gets in.

  “Any problems?” Kreichek asks.

  “Not a one,” she smiles.

  He pulls out, heading off to their next stop for the night.

  Across the street, Stani puts down his scope. He doesn’t have to go after the pretty blond-haired woman. He knows she will come to him.

  Chapter 27

  Woodcrest Road

  The Wilson brothers have been lured upstairs by the promise of pizza. What they find is something they never could have imagined. In the hallway stands the ghostly image of a woman, dazzling in white, like a partial lingering memory from a dream, or a ghost. At first they are startled, the strange light around her freezing their senses, enchanting and at the same time frightening, amazed that such ineffable beauty had been there for so long, right under their noses. Before them is not some storybook princess or fairy, but it is someone they’ve never seen before. Her hair flows around her like a golden veil, her bangs mischievously concealing her eyes. Her make up is exaggerated by normal standards, but perfect for the stage. The gown she wears hangs just above the knees, light and flowing, fragile as a snowflake but not so concealing as to hide her dancer’s figure, feminine yet strong. It takes a few moments for them to get their bearing and realize whom it is.

  “Mom?” Tom says in amazement.

  She gives them a graceful twirl.

  “Are you an angel?” Robbie asks excitedly. Kate glides past them down the hall and then suddenly turns back.

  “Cinderella, silly!” she tells him. “What do you think?”

  Tom is a little apprehensive. “You look almost...hot.”

  They both blush.

  “Didn’t think your old lady had it in her, huh?” Kate says slyly.

  “Not really,” Tom says.

  “Whatever. I won’t be late, probably home before midnight.”

  “Before you change back to what you were before the ball,” Tom reminds her.

  That stops her dead in her tracks, and in her darkness, Katrina grins.

  “I’ll always be your mom,” she says, turning to them, but they’re already gone. With that, she sweeps into the night.

  She feels as if she is gliding, just an inch above the ground as her dark hooded figure moves down the sidewalk to Julie’s, giddy and excited. There is madness in the air, spreading like a brush fire over a dry landscape, thirsting for fuel. Her own firewalls are down, leaving her willingly defenseless to the flames, and her own insanity. She hears the laughter and music of the party as she draws closer to the house, its walkway lined with candles burning in white paper bags, and the porch adorned with spooky trappings. For now, she is the giddy housewife, the friendly neighbor, a
nd the good mom letting her hair down the only way she can. She imagines her entrance, the envious eyes of the other women and their whispers about how fabulous she looks, followed by the lingering glances from the husbands that will make them jealous. She wishes Michael could see her, an realized the incredible mistake he’s made. Perhaps the eyes of a new prince will behold her, younger and more eager.

  Kate breathes in deeply as she approaches the door. This is her time, her turn, to take the stage, dancing not for the mirror, but for herself. What a performance it will be.

  Chapter 28

  Val’s Tires

  Cops see things most people don’t. Tonight, one of Abington’s finest spots something at the crazy Russian guy’s garage. While making his rounds, swinging his cruiser by the strip malls made up of pizza joints, dry cleaners and supermarkets before the real Friday night fun begins, he sees an open door.

  “29-5 to central.”

  “Go ahead, 29-5,” the female dispatcher responds.

  “Out at Val’s, checking an open door.”

  “10-4, unit 29-5. Out at Val’s, 20:17 hours.”

  With his big club-like flashlight in his left hand, his right casually resting on his holster, the cop gets out for a look. Everybody is on edge after the double murder up the road. First, he checks out an oddly parked car in front, locked with nothing visible, the hood still warm. Then he goes over to the front door. It’s locked, with no visible sign of tampering. He can hear Willie the guard dog inside going nuts, but he can’t see her. Usually, she’s left out front where her bed is. He shines his flashlight into the back room and sees that the floor safe door is open.

  He keys his shoulder mike and flips of the holster safety guard off.

  “29-5 to central, requesting back-up at Val’s Tires, 2211 York, cross is Hamilton. Possible 2-11 in progress.”

  He plugs in his radio’s earpiece, killing the speaker and goes to his cruiser.

  “10-4, 29-5. All units, Officer requesting backup, 2211 Broad, cross is Hamilton. Units responding,”

  While the cop waits, he types the New York plate into the cruiser’s computer.

  “29-5, what is your 20?” The dispatcher asks.

  “I’m inside the RP, central.”

  They come fast and quiet, killing their lights as they approach. He gets out before the computer system has processed his search on the plates.

  Chapter 29

  Eddy’s Bike Shop

  Now the town’s top cop has joined in the festivities, with one ear on the radio about what’s going down at Val’s. Chief Joe Turco is a big guy who could stand losing a few, but you wouldn’t want to mess with him. Right now the FBI is messing with him, and he’s slowly on the boil. He wants answers, and Linda Carpenter isn’t giving him any.

  “I just want to know what you people are doing in my town!” he says, arms up in frustration. While he’s been debating, he also has one ear tuned in to his radio, following what is going on over at Val’s.

  “I understand, Chief,” Linda tells him. “But you have to understand, this is a national security issue. Right now we need you to assist us with perimeter security. Let us do our job, and you do yours.”

  Harris interrupts them. “Chief, you hear that? Two more stiffs up at Val’s!”

  “Val’s?” Linda asks.

  “Val. He’s our crazy Russian mechanic. He works on all the department’s cars,” Harris explains.

  The Chief turns back to Linda and scowls.

  Chapter 30

  Woodcrest Road

  “Good Christ!” Julie says, getting the first whiff of her brother as McDowd enters by way of the backdoor.

  “Like my costume?” He laughs. The Halloween party is in full swing. Costumes do weird things to people. In Afghanistan the people wearing masks were trying to kill him, or were the Afghan cops trying not to get killed.

  “What happened?”

  “Don’t ask.”

  “Well, go upstairs! You smell worse than when you first got home, and that was bad,” she says, about to push him along, but quickly pulls back her hands, deciding not to touch him.

  McDowd slinks past the collection of pirates, devils, doctors and kitty cats, many at this point half in the bag. Of all the costumed guests, the pretty ballerina across the room draws his attention the most. She seems real in a room of fakes, as if she’s not in a costume at all, like this is who she was always meant to be. Even the light seems to adore her, caressing her with a loving glow. It’s beauty, he decides, plain and simple, but a kind he’s never seen before, not in any prom date or college girlfriend, and it surprises him.

  Their eyes meet and Kate smiles with a blush. She wades over to him, getting waylaid along the way by some of the mice. They continue to exchange glances until finally they come together.

  “Where’s your costume?” she shouts over the music.

  “I left it at work. You look great. Let me guess, Cinderella?”

  “How did you know?” Kate looks pleasantly puzzled.

  “Just a guess, it’s the only ballet I know. My mom dragged me to see the Kirov at Lincoln Center when I was a kid.”

  Her eyes drift for a second in thought. “And you survived?”

  “I got over it. Actually, Prokofiev became my favorite composer,” he tells her.

  “Wow! That is just too weird, he’s my favorite too!” She is genuinely amazed, and her face shows it.

  “You know, I’ve been meaning to ask you.” McDowd moves closer to her so he didn’t have to shout. “You have a slight accent. Russian, isn’t it?”

  Her eyes go wide with a hint of fear, but all Dan McDowd can see is how pretty they are. “I studied Russian,” he explains.

  “I grew up in Brooklyn, Brighton Beach,” she says nervously.

  “Okay, now that is just too, too weird,” Dan says with a laugh, shaking his head. “I’m from Brooklyn too!”

  She stares at him, not knowing what to say.

  “There are no coincidences,” she thinks now, but afraid of the why. She wonders what her God is telling her now.

  The next thought shocks her. It is something unexpected, unknown to her, at least since she’d gotten sober. It is a feeling she can’t control, perhaps because it isn’t hers to begin with. As thrilling and scary as an exploding sun.

  “Love?”

  It lasts but an instant, for this joy too, like so many others, is washed away by the reality of who she truly is.

  “Why? Why now?”

  McDowd catches a whiff of himself. “I’d better get upstairs.”

  “Yeah, good idea. You are kinda ripe,” Kate laughs.

  As he heads up the stairs, Kate’s gaze follows him and sees him turn around for one last glance.

  She turns back to the party. “What am I doing?”

  Chapter 31

  Willow Grove NAS

  Bob is pleased that the trail is starting to lead somewhere. On one of the blackboards are the pictures of the Russians matched with the pictures they’d gotten from Tillman, and three of the five have big red X on them. His optimism, however, is tempered by the fact that two of them still remain out there, possibly with a nuke.

  “Now, let’s take a look at the woman. What do we think? Are these all the same chick?” he asks, comparing a still of the female seen in Eddy’s shop video, the Russian file shot and the picture from Malekov’s Kabul apartment.

  Freaks and Edwards stare hard at the photos.

  “The shot in front of the Capitol is too faded out at this point, I couldn’t say,” Edwards says about the faded picture. “But why would she be killing her buddies?”

  “Cover her tracks? Maybe she was tipped off somehow,” Bob wonders.

  “Yeah, but our pal Stanley hasn’t turned up yet. Maybe we just haven’t found him,” Edwards says.

  “Run her through the software. How long is this going to take, Freaky?” Bob asks.

  “I’ll start with the Pennsylva
nia DOT, twenty minutes per or something like that,” Freaks replies in a distant way. The both look at him.

  “What’s up?” asks Edwards.

  “Not sure,” he says, continuing to stare at the woman’s picture.

  Edwards has now reached Haddad. “Shelly, where are you?”

  Haddad is sitting in his car along a sketchy stretch of North Broad Street. “Not where you’d want to be. I showed Stanley’s picture around down here at this boxing place. Seems like they’re spooked, and I can’t say I’d blame them, but one guy gave me a tip on a fight club location at a warehouse nearby. I’m going to check it out.”

  “What’s the address? I’ll send some back up,” he asks while grabbing a pad and pencil.

  “I’m good. Let me take a look first before you send anyone,” Haddad suggests.

  “Whatever. Just don’t do anything stupid.”

  “No, really?” Haddad says sarcastically as he hangs up.

  With the help of GPS, he finds the building after about fifteen minutes, set back from the trash-strewn street by a big weed-filled parking lot. He is a little apprehensive. The area looks like a post-apocalyptic, industrial wasteland of rusting factories, made creepier by the darkness. The nearest working streetlight is two blocks away. Even the rats probably avoid the place, and the cops only visit by day. He knows he should get somebody down here with him, but he doesn’t want to get caught crying wolf again.

  As he gets out, he pops open the trunk to get his shotgun, vest and raid jacket. “However, if there are rats here, they’re probably big,” he says to himself.

  Chapter 32

  Woodcrest Road

  “Easy, damn it!” Elayna snarls. Kreichek is doing his best to gently replace the bandage on the gash Eddy gave her.

  “This could probably use a stitch. You’re lucky.”

  “Am I? How so? I would have been lucky if you’d seen the woman!”

  “I can’t be in two places at once,” he drones.

  While he applies a coating of ant-bacterial ointment, Elayna text messages the

  Americans about where they’ve been, keeping her word.

  “All done,” she says, finishing. She climbs over the seat to the middle row to change.