He scrambled out from under the car with a toothy grin and nodding slowly. But the deal wasn’t made yet.
‘I have to call someone,’ he said, and pulled a cell phone out of his pocket.
‘A customer already?’ I said.
‘Of course a customer.’ He sneaked a look at me from under his eyebrows. ‘You think I’m calling the authorities to ask their permission?’ He made a foul spitting sound and laughed. No doubt he’d already got a buyer lined up for such a vehicle and the authorities weren’t going to know a thing about it. In the present climate of unrest I wasn’t surprised. Under-the-counter sales were probably the best he was going to get and he wouldn’t have to worry about paperwork on a rogue four-wheel drive that was going to disappear as soon as it left his yard.
He spoke rapidly for about two minutes, alternating between cajoling and forceful and ending on a don’t-care note. I didn’t get anything from the one-sided conversation, save that the person on the other end was driving a hard bargain. In the end he nodded, said yes and snapped the phone shut.
When he turned back to me he was grinning widely, displaying a large amount of empty gums.
We agreed a straight swap, no questions asked, and shook on it. It was a great deal for him but I didn’t have the leverage or interest to try holding out for more. If he was suspicious about why I was selling and who Travis and I might be, he didn’t seem to care much.
I shook Travis awake and told him to keep his mouth shut while I transferred everything from the Isuzu, making sure the car lot owner wasn’t looking when I moved the weapons. Travis looked shocked when he saw the OSV-96 with the sniper scope, but I ignored the questioning look and checked that there were no traces of us left behind.
I handed the keys to the owner and he gave me a spare set of keys to the Land Cruiser in return, which he’d left running to warm up.
‘Where are you going?’ he said, one hand on the door. ‘Not east, I bet.’
‘No. Not east. Why?’
He lifted his chin in the direction of the town centre. ‘Don’t go that way. Police and soldiers asking questions.’ He pointed across the road to a narrow street. ‘Go that way for a kilometre and you will see the road heading west out of here. Turn left and keep going.’ He winked and disappeared inside his hut, and I wondered if the advice had been to keep us out of trouble or to stop any awkward questions from police coming back to this car lot.
It didn’t matter; the advice was well-meant and I figured it was worth taking.
We snaked through the outer suburbs, following a series of quiet back streets, until I saw a line of lights heading west. I turned left and we soon left the town behind. After a few miles I saw a track running down beside a small lake and decided we’d come far enough. It was time to eat and rest up.
I made Travis drink at least half a bottle of water. Rehydration would clear his head a little and keep him going. We had a long way to go yet and I needed him as lively as possible.
Then I rang Langley.
FORTY
Lindsay picked up after two rings. ‘Hi. We were getting worried.’ I heard the rattle of keys and guessed she was checking my location by the signal. ‘How’s it going?’
‘It’s OK. We’re heading west, currently static. Is Callahan in?’
She put me through. Callahan sounded calm but I knew he’d be chewing his teeth over the lack of hard information. We’d agreed from the start that I would only report in when and if it was necessary and safe to do. But I knew that was easier for me, the man in the field, than it was for him, stuck in an office and waiting for updates.
‘I’m looking at your location on screen,’ he said, no doubt referring to a map overlay on a satellite view of the countryside we were currently occupying. It was slightly unnerving to know that he was probably looking right down on the lake, although he wouldn’t be able to see us, as the last satellite view would already be a few hours old. I just hoped there was nobody else with the same view, such as Grey Suit or any of the others currently tracking us, official or otherwise. ‘Is Travis with you?’
I confirmed he was. ‘He took a beating along the way but he’s hanging in there.’
‘Army or militia?’
‘Neither. A third party named Voloshyn, a bruiser working for a private security company in Kiev. He killed the Donetsk cut-out after torturing him. He wanted to know where the next cut-out was, but I think Travis was the main prize. Somebody doesn’t want Travis leaving the country.’
Callahan was silent while he digested that for a second. It was probably the kind of off-the-wall suggestion he didn’t want to consider. ‘What makes you say that?’
‘Voloshyn knew exactly where to find Travis and the local cut-out. He could have only known that by having access to the list of addresses … or by having been given the location of the hotel where Travis was dropped off.’ I didn’t bother mentioning that 24d’s car had been right out in the open for anybody to see, and that if Voloshyn had been given the details, he’d have simply had to drive around until he saw it. The town wasn’t that big and 24d wouldn’t have been expecting company.
‘I don’t see how that’s possible.’ Callahan sounded doubtful, and in the main he had good reason. The CIA prides itself on its state-of-the-art security against leakages of this kind and the loyalty of its employees. But I had worse news for him yet.
‘Thing is, Voloshyn also knew who to look for. He was carrying photos.’
‘What?’
I explained about the snaps I’d found on Voloshyn. I’d already considered the possibility that Callahan himself had access and opportunity to acquire both photos, but dismissed the idea. If he’d wanted this mission to end badly, he could have arranged for a much earlier pick-up by security forces in Donetsk, not left it until now when we were more likely to get free and clear. In any case, I trusted him.
The fact remained that Voloshyn must have known the area Travis was heading for in the first place, so all he had to do was keep his eyes open. The rest had been down to simple grunt work and observation. And as a PI, whatever his connections elsewhere, he’d have been equipped for both.
But it had needed somebody to feed him the information in the first place.
I gave Callahan the name of the security company Voloshyn worked for so he could check it out. Whoever had put Voloshyn on to Travis’s location must have left an electronic trail somewhere, but I wasn’t holding out too much hope of it being easy to find. But if Callahan could find a way to put pressure on Voloshyn’s employers, it might give us a clue where the orders had originated, albeit probably not the actual source.
‘I’ll see what I can do,’ he said. ‘In the meantime we’ve issued a warning for all assets to take full security measures in case they’ve been compromised. It’s going to shut down some of the networks for months to come. What’s your plan from here on?’
‘Unless you can beam us up, we’ll continue west and cross the border into Moldova. I’m guessing the embassy in Kiev is off limits?’
‘Absolutely. We had an update earlier and all arrivals and departures are being filmed and checked, probably on orders from Moscow. Complaints have been delivered by the ambassador but the government in Kiev says the observers are nothing to do with them. The airport is also under virtual lockdown with restricted flights and long queues at passport control. Assuming you make it to Moldova, advise when and where and we’ll arrange a pick-up.’