“But I’ve never been in romantic love, like you have. So I’m jealous. I’d very much like to experience that kind of love. Unless…” She hesitated, unsure if she should say the words. “Unless I’m not capable of feeling such a thing.”
“In my experience, Russians are a passionate people.”
She shrugged. “It’s a stereotype. But I do cry when I listen to sad songs. There are many black American singers I like, who sing with such strong feelings. When Luthor Vandross sings ‘Dance with My Father,’ I always…” Almost on cue, a tear formed and rolled down her cheek. She looked at Kit and smiled. “Can you see the Russian tears?”
She looked at him through teary eyes and saw his demeanor soften.
“There were no other men for you?” he asked.
“Men have always shown interest in me. And the interest of course is for sex. They don’t care about what’s inside, about my personality, about what I like or don’t like. And when they find out I’m smarter than they are and that I’m not interested in casual sex, they fade away quickly.”
“My mom used to say that there was somebody out there for every person, and I believe that. Don’t worry, you’ll meet somebody good,” said Kit, as they exchanged a look.
“Your mom raised quite a son. Even if you are a spy.”
Kit smiled. “When I was twelve years old I wanted two things: to play blues guitar and to be a spy. So I took music lessons and read espionage novels, watched James Bond movies. I wanted to visit all of the old Asian colonial capitals and be involved in danger and intrigue. I mean, how many twelve-year-olds have posters of Singapore and Rangoon and Jakarta and Hong Kong on their bedroom walls? So I joined the army to see the world. Now, at age thirty-five, I’ve been to all of those capitals—as a spy—and have learned to play guitar.”
“You got what you wanted.”
“But what I learned, is that the most important thing in life is your family. Everything else is just details.”
She looked at him, shocked by the notion that she was developing strong feelings for this man Bennings.
Angel Perez snored as he lay sprawled on the sofa in a suite at the Venetian on the Las Vegas Strip. Across the room, Buzz Van Wyke slept soundly on bedding placed on the floor. The door to the bedroom was closed.
Angel’s sterile cell phone rang. Both men woke quickly, but Angel fumbled around in the dark, trying to find the ringing phone. He picked up after four rings and sounded as if he’d been in deep sleep.
“Hey boss man, good to hear from you,” said Angel, putting the phone on speaker as he tried not to sound groggy.
“Well I’m glad somebody’s getting some sleep,” joked Kit. “I’m on speaker with Yulana in the cockpit of a Beechcraft Baron I just boosted in Albuquerque.”
“No fair you get to have all the fun. Hey, don’t be jealous, but we’re living large here. It’s been at least an hour since we racked out,” said Angel, checking his watch.
“‘We’ doesn’t mean you’re all still together, does it?” asked Kit, surprised.
“Indeed we are, in beautiful Las Vegas,” called out Buzz loudly so he could be heard on the speakerphone. He then rapped on the closed bedroom door. “Jen, get in here!”
“Vegas? You were all supposed to go home. I don’t need to remind you that it’s way too risky to be involved with me. Especially after what just happened.”
“Don’t worry about us,” said Buzz. “Now what just happened?”
“Calls in the middle of the night usually don’t bring good news,” said Jen as she shuffled into the room.
“You’re right about that, Jen.” Kit then filled them in on all of the recent developments.
“Yulana and I have been monitoring the bomb’s location with GPS,” added Kit.
“The device was on a jet that landed at North Las Vegas Airport a few minutes ago,” said Yulana, checking Kit’s tablet computer. “Unfortunately, the signal was just terminated.”
“Don’t worry, we’ll get the signal back,” said Angel.
“I think you’re right. But when we do, we might not have much time to act,” said Kit. “By the way, why did you all go to Las Vegas?”
“Let’s save the good news till last,” said Buzz, winking at Angel and Jen.
“Kit, unless Popov’s bomb expert is working in a shielded room, we should get the signal back when he checks out the device to confirm it’s operational,” said Angel. “Yulana, do you have any idea how long that will take?”
“Not more than an hour,” said Yulana. “My concern is that Popov’s people have already inspected the device on the flight to Las Vegas. If they have switched off the GPS targeting signal, they don’t need to turn it back on until just before dropping the bomb. Perhaps as little as three or four minutes.”
Buzz, Angel, and Jen looked at one another with great concern at this sobering consideration. “Let’s hope that’s not the case,” said Buzz.
“Since the bomb requires an airborne delivery system, North Las Vegas Airport could be where Popov’s HQ is located,” said Kit.
“I can look into that. And it will be easy to find out which private jets landed there tonight,” said Jen.
“Kit, since you’re in a hot plane, there’s a small airstrip next to the casino in Jean, Nevada, near the California border on Interstate Fifteen. I’ll drive there now to bring you guys into town,” said Buzz.
“Good idea. Now what’s this good news you mentioned? And why are you all in Vegas?” asked Kit.
“Staci’s here,” said Buzz. “She was somehow able to send a text message to your old cell phone that you gave to Jen. We have a general idea of where she’s being held, apparently by a couple of Russians. I hired a half-dozen private investigators who will resume knocking on doors looking for her as soon as it’s daylight.”
Kit visibly perked up like a bankrupt man who’d just won the lottery. It was exactly what he needed to hear to help him keep going in spite of all the recent developments. “That’s fantastic news!” he said excitedly. “Awesome!” Smiling, he looked to Yulana and reached out and squeezed her hand. “Buzz… how did… what… I mean how…?” Kit was so happy he couldn’t get words out.
“I’ll give you all the details when you land. Hopefully, we’ll have her back in the next twelve hours,” said Buzz.
“Buzz, Jen, Angel, you guys are—”
“Are forgiven for disobeying your orders?” joked Jen.
“Listen, since we learned Staci was being held here, I started thinking that Popov’s target was here,” said Buzz.
“Makes sense,” said Kit. “Las Vegas is a target-rich environment, of both a civilian and military nature.”
“Is he hitting casinos?” asked Angel. “That’s where the big money is.”
“Buzz, rent us a hangar and helicopter at McCarran Airport. We’ll set up an HQ there.”
“Great minds think alike. I did all of that as soon as we touched down yesterday.”
“That’s why you make the big money,” joked Kit. “Hey, if it doesn’t look like Popov is using North Las Vegas, call the fueling operations at all of the other area airports. Maybe even talk to the gas jockeys in person. Ask if they’re fueling any airplanes belonging to Russians.”
“Got it.”
“Just to clarify, it sounds like Popov could use the bomb today,” said Jen.
“I expect he’ll use it as soon as he can. Which means I’d like to have more than six people looking for Staci.”
“I’ll make it happen,” said Buzz.
Sheriff Jim McCain called Detective Bobby Chan into his office for a 5:00 A.M. meeting about the government spying on his officers. After listening to Chan’s version of events, McCain didn’t speak for a full ten minutes. He paced behind his desk, looked out his office window, and jotted some notes onto a yellow legal pad. He made one phone call that Chan couldn’t hear, even though he tried to eavesdrop. Luckily, the big Chinese American detective had some snack crackers stashed in his sport coat, and he munched on them as he watched the sheriff.