Oh boy, what the fuck do ya want with me?” “Let’s go for a walk. We can go downstairs to the gym. Nobody will disturb us.”
Otto looked at the monitor behind Yemni. The screen showed the lavender tombstone pattern. Yemm hadn’t touched anything.
“It’s about what’s going on around here,” Yemm said. “I need a favor.”
“Okay,” Otto reluctantly agreed.
They took the elevator to the gym, where they sat on the raised platform leading to the showers and the pool. No one was here this afternoon; the Agency was on emergency footing, and everybody was too busy to come down. “We’ve put together a special flying unit to find out who’s after the boss,” Yemm said. Otto looked straight ahead.
“We’re beating the bushes for anything, and I mean anything, that’ll help.”
“I’m working the problem too,” Otto said. “We know that you are. We couldn’t do without you,” Yemm said placatingly. “It’s just that we don’t completely understand what you’re doing.”
“I’m gathering data ”
“On Nikolayev. The one the Russians are looking for. He was an old Baranov man. We’ve got that much. But then we don’t know where you’re taking it.” Yemm spread his hands. He was at his wit’s end.
“Do you think that he’s the one gunning for the boss?” “I don’t know,”
Otto mumbled. They were skirting what to him was the main issue; the only issue. He was scared to death that Yemm would stumble on to it.
“But he does have something to do with it?” Otto nodded. “Okay, that makes sense,” Yemm said. “At least we know why you went to France.
Did you find him?” Something flip-flopped inside Otto’s gut. There was no way that he could let Yemm and his people get to Nikolayev first. There were too many questions that only the Russian had the answers for. Too much was at stake. “No. He might not even be in France.” “He’s there all right. Or at least the Russians are telling anybody who’ll listen that they think he’s there.” “They’re not so reliable anymore.” “Maybe.” “He could be anywhere by now.” Yemm seem to consider this for a bit. But then he looked up. ” you go to France, then? I mean if you didn’t think that he was there?”
“I wanted to make sure.” “Are you sure now, Otto?” Yemm asked. “I mean if you went there, and, as you say, you didn’t find him, how can you be so sure that he’s not there after all?” Yemm’s eyes locked on Otto’s. Otto felt cornered. He was on the edge of panic. “It’s just a feeling, ya know.” “No traces of the man? Not so much as a whiff?”
“Nadu.” A startled expression came across Yemm’s features. “You’re not giving up, are you? Just because you didn’t find him the first time out, doesn’t mean that you have to quit.” “I’m not so sure ” Yemm shook his head. “We know that whoever is trying to kill Mac is working on the inside. Or with some serious help from someone on the inside.
Someone who knows his movements. Knows about his family. So if there is a connection to Nikolayev, then it might be more than a simple case of revenge.” “How do you figure that?” Otto asked. “They wouldn’t have gone after the family, or you. They want Mac to step down, but it’s not revenge. And I don’t even think it’s so simple as somebody not wanting Mac as DCI. I think there’s more to it than that. Some plot, maybe political. I don’t know. But if it was revenge, they’d just put a bullet in the back of his head. Or, since it’s somebody inside the Company, maybe they have access to his complete file. If that got over to the Senate, they’d axe his nomination at the speed of light.” “The Senate is giving him a hard time, and he was almost killed in the islands.” “Hammond and Madden are just going through the motions because they don’t have enough material to stop a presidential nomination, and they know it. And Hans Lollick was crude. Mrs. M. spotted it from the git-go because of the second bag.” “So I’ll keep looking,” Otto conceded. He wanted to be anyplace else except here.
“Nikolayev is the key for now,” Yemm said. “We need to talk to him.
You need to help us find him.” Otto nodded. I’ll do my best.” “I know you will,” Yemm said. “We’re all doing our best.” “Mac is my friend too,” Otto flared. “I don’t want any question about that, ya know.”
“No question,” Yemm said. Otto stood up. “I never had a real family,”
he said. “Is that why you called Mrs. M. to tell her about Elizabeth’s accident?” Yemm’s accusatory tone put a knife into Rencke’s heart. “I didn’t want her to hear it from anyone else,” he shot back defensively. “I knew that Liz was going to be okay.” “Did you know that she had lost the baby?” Otto hung his head, suddenly ashamed, and even more frightened than when Yemm had shown up in his office. “Yes.” “Whyd you have to tell Mrs. M. about that?” “She deserved the truth.” “Yes, I guess she did. We all do.” Yemm watched him leave. It was easy to tell when Otto was hiding something, but impossible to find out what it was. Or even in what direction he was heading. For all they knew Nikolayev and the trip to France could be totally unrelated to each other, and either or both could be smoke screens. False trails. Back in his office Yemm phoned David Whittaker, who was the boss of Operations. Rencke had not requested authorization for the Aurora flight to France, nor had he checked in with the chief of Paris station when he’d arrived. In fact he’d slipped into France and got back out before anyone there had any idea something was happening. “What was he doing over there?” Whittaker asked. “Did you get him to tell you?” “He said he was looking for Anatoli Nikolayev, the one that the SVR has been looking for since August.” “Did he find him?” “I’m not sure,” Yemm said. “But I think that we should keep looking for him. Nikolayev just might have some answers.” “To what?” Whittaker asked, and Yemm had no reply.
TWENTY-SIX
THE LORD IS MY SHEPHERD; I SHALL NOT WANT. HE MAKETH ME TO LIE DOWN IN GREEN PASTURES: HE LEADETH ME BESIDE THE STILL WATERS.
HE RESTORETH MY SOUL: HE LEADETH ME IN THE PATHS OF RIGHTEOUSNESS FOR HIS NAME’S SAKE.
YEA, THOUGH I WALK THROUGH THE VALLEY OF THE SHADOW OF DEATH, I WILL FEAR NO EVIL; FOR THOU ART WITH ME; THY ROD ANDTHY STAFF THEY COMFORT ME.
The message left for him at all ten trigger points was the same. Found the novel by B. that you are looking for. 703-482-5555. It was ten at night, and the weather had turned bitterly cold. Standing on the street corner making his calls to Paris he’d become thoroughly chilled.
Hurrying back to his room at the Hotel Le Rivage on the Loiret River, he didn’t know if he’d ever be warm again.
He’d cocked the hammer and the gun had been fired. Not just once, but at every one of his markers. And so soon the speed took his breath away.
But the response was nothing more than he’d asked for. It was a U.S. number, and the area code was for Langley, Virginia. Presumably the CIA.
Alone, as he had been for several years, Nikolayev tried to sort out his mixed emotions. With no one to go to for advice, making up his mind seemed more difficult than it used to be. He was a Libra. The scales of justice. Sympathetic to both sides of every issue.
Indecisive, his wife would have said.
The fact of the matter was that he had worked for General Baranov. He had been a Department Viktor boy. Mokrie dela. Wet affairs. The spilling of blood. But even though they’d all mouthed the patriotic slogans: Long Live the Worker; Down with the Bourgeoisie; The Workers’