“Just a tap,” Borodin assured her. “I have no desire whatsoever to kill a United States federal agent, believe me. Much more trouble than it is worth. As a matter of fact, when we meet and you talk to me, that is when I release him. Very happy to do so. He has been most troublesome.”
Good! Felicity thought.
“I am not going to put myself in your hands,” she said.
“Ah, my dear,” he said, voice like velvet. “I think you will. You will have to if you wish to save your friend Mr. Goodkind. And I repeat, I have no desire, nor any interest, in killing either of you. I need to talk to you because I have reason to believe you have information that will prove useful to me. Then I will disappear. You will never see me again.”
“What kind of proof would I have that what you say is true?”
“None, Darinova. None. But what choice do you have? So—” the voice turned brisk and businesslike, “¾this is how it will work. Give me the name of the place where you want to meet.”
“I—” Give him a place? That startled her. “I don’t know Portland.” The four men’s attention sharpened at the name of the city.
“Neither do I. So we’re even. Just name a place and I’ll be there with your friend. I’m giving you the power to choose.” Another of those dull rumbles.
“Ah—” She really didn’t know Portland. She’d only seen a documentary once on its light-rail urban transportation system on the Net one rainy afternoon when she’d been very bored. One place stuck in her head. “Pioneer Courthouse Square.”
“Pioneer Courthouse Square, then. In one hour’s time, at 7:00 p.m. exactly, you will be at Pioneer Courthouse Square, close to a road where I can park and show you your friend. I will come alone, unarmed, and it is snowing too hard for any snipers to be deployed. You will be able to see from a distance that I am unarmed. Your friend will be in a vehicle and you will be able to see him. The vehicle will have a driver. I will stay at a distance from you at all times. Certainly beyond touching distance. Once we have spoken, I will free Special Agent Goodkind and you, of course, will be free to go. I just want to ask you a few questions. But if do not agree to see me, you will never see Goodkind again. Is that clear? Darinova, is that clear?”
Her throat was tight. “Yes.”
“Da. See you in an hour.”
“Wait!” Felicity shouted but the connection was broken. She called Al’s cell again but it went to voice mail.
* * *
“What the fuck was that about?” Metal demanded.
Felicity pushed herself away from the desk and swiveled to meet his eyes. “That was Borodin. He pretended he wasn’t but that was more for show than anything else. He wants me to meet him in Pioneer Courthouse Square in an hour.”
“Fuck no,” Metal growled.
Metal’s eyes widened like that of a spooked horse. John, Douglas and Jacko looked at him in surprise. They weren’t used to seeing him agitated. He didn’t do agitation, not even in firefights. But the idea of Felicity walking into a trap. Into a trap set by the fucking KGB—his nervous system simply couldn’t handle it.
“I agree with Metal, Felicity,” John said. “It’s too dangerous. But we’ll be there for the meet, no question. And I’m going to tell our friend in the Portland PD that a criminal will be in Pioneer Courthouse Square. A man who kidnapped a federal agent. And I should probably call the local FBI office too. We can do this, there’s no need for you to get involved in any way.”
Thank God Midnight had put this into words. Metal simply couldn’t do it, couldn’t reason. All he could do was shout no at the thought of Felicity walking into danger.
And thank God, too, that Felicity wasn’t the kind to get her back up. Lots of women—and he’d dated plenty of them—would have bristled and gone out of principle. This wasn’t Metal laying down the law, though. It was simply Metal terrified that something would happen to her.
She put her hand on his, looking sad. “I am so sorry, Metal. You’re right but you’re wrong. I don’t have any training to do this but—we’ll never see Al again if I don’t show up in Pioneer Courthouse Square. He made that clear. And he also said he only wanted to talk.”
John frowned. “Tell us exactly what he said. Listen to the recording and translate everything exactly. Let’s get a picture of what we’re up against.”
They listened to the tape and Felicity gave a word-for-word translation. Metal hated every word of it.
“He’s lying,” he said emphatically to her when she’d finished. “He’s fucking lying. Can’t you see that?”
“Oh, of course he’s lying,” Felicity said. “That goes without saying. He’s former KGB. They lie every time their lips move. However, he has laid himself open. He said he’d show himself to be unarmed.” She glanced out the window. “Is it true what he said? That a sniper can’t operate in this snow?”
Metal jerked his thumb at Jacko, who was the expert. Plus, he couldn’t stand that thoughtful expression on her face which meant she was thinking about it.
“Be hard,” Jacko said, ignoring Metal’s glare. Answering in a way that would only encourage her. “They’d have to use thermal scopes, which don’t give as clear a sight view. And the way I understand it, you picked the venue, right?”
Felicity nodded.
Jacko turned to Metal. “No sniper can set up a nest in an hour in a foreign city. Pioneer Courthouse Square has high-rises around it. They don’t have time to figure out the best angle and get rid of the inhabitants of the space. As a matter of fact, I can’t figure out this guy’s angle if he lets her pick the venue.”
“There’s something definitely nefarious,” Felicity said firmly and Metal wanted to kiss her. “It’s the KGB. He has something up his sleeve. But if he is unarmed and I am near to you guys, maybe we can save Al.” Now Metal didn’t want to kiss her. He wanted to tie her down and not in a good way.
“There’s something I need to figure out too. How long will it take us to get to Pioneer Courthouse Square from here?” Felicity asked.
“Five hours,” Metal said. “Pointless going.”
“About twenty minutes.” John looked out the window. “Maybe half an hour in this weather. Men, start suiting up.”
Everyone headed for an innocuous section of wall, undistinguishable except for the fact that it didn’t have artwork. John placed his palm against the wall and the whole section slid away to reveal their armory.
Felicity peeked in. She saw an amazing amount of gear including¾ “Are those hazmat suits? We’re not going to need hazmat suits.”
“Yeah. We’re prepared for more or less everything,” Metal answered, teeth clenched. Everyone was moving forward as if this crazy scheme was a go. He could object all he wanted but short of shooting them all in the leg, there was no stopping them. So he was suiting up too.
“While you guys do your thing, I’ll do mine,” Felicity said mysteriously and sat back down at her computer.
Metal put on his vest. He, Jacko and Senior had had to have custom-made vests ordered. Vest, Glock 19 in a side holster. Taser. They all decided against rifles, except for Jacko, who was the best shot of the four of them. Particularly Metal didn’t want a rifle. He had no intention of being far enough away from Felicity to need one. He looked around. Everyone was ready to go.
Four tough guys prepared for anything.
Something felt tight in his throat.
This was his battle, not theirs. And yet here they were, putting their lives on the line for him and for Felicity. Though they were tough and trained and well-equipped...well, shit happens. A lot. And it can happen to the smartest, best-equipped son of a bitch around.
Jacko and Midnight and Senior were backing him up because that’s what they did. They were a team and it was why he loved working for ASI so much.
And when he emerged from th
eir armory his throat tightened again because there she was—another teammate. Beautiful and smart and brave, her fingers blurring at the keyboard, weird noises coming from the computer.
She was going to become an ASI teammate, he could feel it, like something inevitable, something that simply had to be. Some force in the universe had brought her to them.
To him. Because she was his teammate, his special one. The one he’d been waiting for all his life. The one who’d become his family after losing his other one.
She was so focused that she didn’t even look up when they emerged. Of course they’d all been trained to move quietly even in full battle rattle and ready for action. Nothing jingled when they moved, they made sure of it.
“Honey?” Metal said finally.
She looked up, eyes with that glazed look of someone who was concentrating furiously. She saw him and her face softened and something went thump really hard in his chest. “Metal,” she said and smiled.
Oh God. They were about to embark on a mission, and though they were going to make sure nothing happened to her, nothing was certain. She could be hurt. He couldn’t stand the thought.
She motioned for them to come over. “Come look. Or rather listen.”
When they were behind her chair, staring at the monitor that showed the last frame of a beaten Goodkind, head hanging, knocked unconscious, she pressed a key.
“Before we go, I want you guys to listen to this. I ran the recording through a special program that isolates background noise.” She pressed another key and they listened carefully. Borodin’s voice had disappeared and they listened to a background rumbling, which now sounded familiar.
“Man,” Metal said. “That sounds like...like planes taking off.”
“Yes,” she said. “It does, and it is. Look. I hacked—er, consulted with the Portland International control tower and watch.”
On the screen, instead of Goodkind, were two timelines. The first of the recording and the second—
She pointed at it. “Now watch. Below is a time plot of the background noises. Above is the exact moment three planes took off from Portland International.”
The two timelines coincided perfectly. “Al is being held at the Portland airport. I don’t think he could possibly be held hostage in a commercial airliner so in all likelihood he’s being held in a private jet. Borodin promised he’d let me see Al but I don’t know if he will. Right this moment, unless he’s being transported to Pioneer Square, he’s there.”
John had his cell out. “Nick? Advise the Portland office that Goodkind is possibly being held on a private plane in the General Aviation section of Portland International. Activate your HRT guys here. There’s also the possibility that he’s being transported via vehicle to Pioneer Courthouse Square, so contact the airport authorities, see if you can intercept the vehicle. It will probably be a van. Be advised that this is being managed by a former colonel of the KGB.” He listened for a second. “Yeah, I know. At any rate, in an hour we’ll have him. I’ll be in touch.”
Metal could only imagine what was being set in motion in the FBI. The Portland office, of course, but also in DC. The FBI was good at what they did and they protected their own ferociously. Borodin had messed with the wrong guys.
And the wrong girl, he thought, as he helped Felicity put on her coat. She was as brave as any warrior and sure as hell smarter.
Midnight tapped the screen and pulled on a parka. “Okay,” he said, twirling his finger. “Heading out.”
* * *
“I won’t be more than five feet from you,” Metal repeated for the fiftieth time. They were sitting in the back of an SUV. Jacko was driving. John and Douglas were in a second SUV. An FBI team was on its way to the airport.
Felicity shivered and Metal’s arm around her shoulders tightened. Jacko, John and Douglas had looked completely expressionless as they got into the vehicles, men on a mission. She understood they had done this a thousand times before.
Metal looked pissed. And though she was rarely acute about anyone’s psychological state, she understood that Metal’s anger covered fear. He wasn’t afraid for himself. He was afraid for her.
She was afraid for herself too. It was insane to go meet Borodin, a former colonel of the KGB. Her parents would have been appalled. They’d defected to a country two continents and an ocean away to get away from the KGB.
But what else could she do? What was the alternative? Not show up? Maybe Borodin would have Al shot on the spot, out of spite and because he wasn’t useful anymore. Al was a good guy. He’d always been kind to her, in his gruff way. To tell the truth, he’d almost been more of a father to her than her own father had been. She knew her father loved her but he’d been a remote figure all her life. Al was a warmer man, and he’d done nothing but help her.
She loved him like a father though she’d never told him.
She could never live with herself if something happened to him that she could have prevented. If he died because she was too scared to meet with Borodin, she’d be heartsick the rest of her life.
She couldn’t abandon Al, simply couldn’t.
But she was scared.
It was dark now and snow was falling wildly, the wind scattering flakes in every direction. How Jacko could see to drive was beyond her, but he seemed to have no difficulties. This was the kind of weather where she’d lock herself in the house for a week.
Instead, she was going to meet a monster, unarmed. That wasn’t quite true. She did have weapons. John and Douglas and Jacko. And Metal, of course. Who was going to be as close to her as he could, despite the advice of his teammates.
Metal brought out his tablet and ran through it with her once again. “You are going to stand here—” He stabbed the glass screen with a thick figure. They had worked out hiding places and fields of fire—which she understood to be a way to avoid shooting each other—and what they called comms. Each had an earpiece in his right ear. She had one too. They were on a frequency only they could hear. Metal wasn’t done with his briefing. His tenth. “And I will be here. Behind this.” He stabbed again, at a concrete plinth. “Do you understand me, honey? I’ll be five feet from you and I’ll have my gun out.”
Felicity turned toward him with difficulty. She had on a vest too, only it was several sizes too big. Luckily she was also wearing a big down coat that had been lent to her, which hid the fact that she was wearing a vest under it. Damn, it was uncomfortable. How could law enforcement officers wear one for hours? The thing rubbed against her breasts. Did female officers have a molded vest to accommodate breasts?
But her discomfort was nothing compared to what Metal was feeling.
“Yes,” she said gently. Metal looked like his head was ready to explode. “I understand. I’ll make my way to the corner and stand ten feet away from the curb. I don’t move and if I hear a whistle, I drop to the ground immediately.” She cupped his big hand with hers.
He grunted, as if something hurt.
“Get your fucking head back in the game, man,” Jacko said from the driver’s seat. He glanced in the rearview mirror. “You’re behaving like a fuckhead and you’re scaring her.”
Metal ran a big hand down his face and drew a deep breath. “I’m sorry, honey. I don’t want to scare you. I just want to know that you’re on board with the plan.”
“Yes,” she said, and squeezed his hand. “I am. It’s a great plan. And basically all I have to do is stand there, far enough away that he can’t grab me. And if he does, you guys come out firing.”
“Damn straight,” Metal said fervently. “Be easier just to waste the guy the instant he shows his face.”
“But then Al might pay the consequences.” They’d been over this.
Metal opened his mouth but Jacko said, “We’re here.”
The plan was for Jacko and John to park on the
other side of the square and the ASI guys would quietly move toward prearranged stations. Metal would make his way to the plinth and she would slowly walk across the square to the corner where she’d meet Borodin.
Through their comms system they’d heard that the FBI HRT had reached the airport.
One way or another they’d find Al.
It was freezing cold when she emerged from Jacko’s vehicle. A gust of wind nearly knocked her off her feet. Metal held her elbow and murmured, “Easy now.”
She nodded at him and he nodded back and...disappeared. Amazing. He was a huge man and yet he seemed to simply melt away.
Five minutes to deadline.
Felicity faced the street where Borodin would park, took a deep breath and began walking. The wind was at her back so she didn’t have the snow blowing in her eyes. It was below freezing. She didn’t dare cry. Her mother had told her stories of tears freezing in the depths of Russian winters.
The square was lit but the lights seemed weak, somehow, never penetrating more than a few feet. It was a pretty square, with an amphitheater to her right and some low concrete buildings to her left. She’d seen the aerial photographs and knew that the terra-cotta bricks were inscribed with names but the snow was too heavy on the ground to see them, even if she could in the dim light.
Three minutes to deadline.
“That’s right, honey.” Metal’s deep voice sounded in her ear. “Just keep walking. We all have a visual on you and we’re not going to let anything happen to you.”
“We’re alone in the park,” John said in her ear. He was holding a tablet that gave thermal images. “But there’s a vehicle coming up. Parking...it’s parked on the next block. Someone is getting out. A tall man. He’s alone, moving toward the RP.” Rendezvous point. They’d also given her a crash course in the military slang they’d be using.
“Anyone else in the vehicle?” Jacko asked. He was the only one with a long gun. He had a thermal scope. If another sniper was in the area, Jacko would see him.
“Can’t tell,” John said.
She was more than halfway across the square now.