“That’s as may be, but either way we have to get to her before he does or she’s dead and the map’s gone forever.”
Scarlet played with her lighter. “And where did we get this information from?”
Eden waited a moment before answering, the hint of a twinkle in his eye. “That’s the interesting part — from Lexi Zhang herself.”
Scarlet’s eyes narrowed with suspicion. “Now this has to be a joke.”
“I’m afraid not, no. She called me recently to explain that Sorokin had blackmailed her into taking the map and she had no choice. Now that Sorokin is dead she wants to return it to us.”
“Now I really have heard everything, Richard! Please tell me you don’t believe this bullshit.”
“We’ll have to see.”
Scarlet shook her head and frowned. “Blackmailing her — how?”
“She claims he’d taken her parents hostage and was threatening to kill them if she didn’t get the map for him.”
She laughed. “No. Total bullshit — sorry.”
“That’s for you to find out, so sorry about that.”
Scarlet offered a bitter laugh. “I thought it might be… but I don’t trust her — I think she’s up to something.”
“Perhaps, but it’s your mission like it or not. I want the map back and we can worry about whether Lexi Zhang is lying to us or not later. Just be cautious, that’s all.”
“Of course I will be. I’m not in the least bit concerned about Blowfly, or whatever she’s called. If she crosses me I’ll finish her.” She crossed her legs and sighed, silent for a while. Then she spoke again. “What you said about Kodiak…”
“Kvashnin?”
“Right — an ape like that wouldn’t be working solo. Who’s his organ grinder?”
“We don’t know. He’s worked for every scumbag in Russia and a good many in the Middle East over the years too, so it could be anyone. Clearly if he’s trying to take out Lexi Zhang then this has to be about the map and nothing else, so I’m guessing Sorokin was just collateral damage. We can safely presume someone else has heard chatter about the search for immortality and wants some for himself.”
“And we can get an idea of how serious he is by the fact he hired Kodiak.”
“Indeed, which is why you’re going to Berlin. We know Dragonfly is there with the map, and I want you to retrieve it.”
“When?”
“As soon as possible. We’ll coordinate with Lexi but I want you to get there in advance and check the place for any trouble first.”
“Of course.”
“And you’re going with Karlsson.”
“Oh, please. Can’t I take a potato instead? It’d be of more use.”
Eden sighed, unamused. “The Americans are forcefully insisting on being part of this and he’s the man they want in it. I get the feeling someone pretty high up the food chain in DC has started pulling strings on this one. Is that going to be a problem?”
Scarlet leaned back in her chair and swung her boots up onto Eden’s desk, causing him to raise an eyebrow. “Bradley Karlsson? I’ve known tougher Teddy Bears. I can bring him to heel.”
CHAPTER FOUR
Hawke didn’t have to break the door down. That had already happened when the knifeman snatched Nightingale. Now it was closed in the frame but unlocked, and the lock mechanism was smashed out leaving a rugged hole where it had once protected her, or so she had probably thought.
He and Lea split up and searched the apartment for any trouble while Ryan stayed outside and watched the corridor.
It was a spacious loft apartment with polished hardwood floors and neat white walls, one of which was an enormous bookcase from floor to ceiling. A large semi-circle window looked out over a chilly Manhattan and let in the sound of the traffic far below.
Built-in spotlights shone down from the ceiling, and several well-kept house plants added a splash of color throughout the long, tidy room. In the center of the space was a circular desk with a serious array of laptops and computers on it. No sign of any struggle in here.
Lea looked at the tidy apartment. “She was pretty organized. My flat looks like a cross between a food fight competition and Tornado Alley.”
“I remember only too well,” Hawke said as he moved through to the bedroom where the trouble had begun. In here, a pot plant had been knocked over and the soil was all over a plush, cream rug. In the obvious struggle, books and ornaments had been smashed off the shelves and were now strewn over the floor.
Worse than that was the sight of a wheelchair on its side in the center of the bedroom. It looked like someone had given it a good kicking and one of the main wheels was slightly bent off its axle. Hawke felt like he was intruding into the very heart of Nightingale’s secret world, but he knew he had no choice if he was to stand the slightest chance of getting her back — of bringing this nightmare to an end once and for all.
Lea joined him. “All clear back there, but… wait — is that a wheelchair?”
Hawke nodded grimly. “I had no idea. She never told me anything about it.” He opened the wardrobe door and looked inside. “This is where she took the pictures of the guy who snatched her. I recognize the view from inside. Bastards.”
Lea put her gun in the holster and looked at Hawke. “What’s our next play?”
Hawke sighed and took a second to think. Whoever had taken Nightingale must have had a damned good reason to do so, and whoever it was had nearly a full day’s head-start on them.
He turned to Lea. “Ryan needs to get those computers fired up, don’t you think?”
Lea nodded gently and went to get Ryan.
Hawke picked up the wheelchair and set it back on its wheels, drumming his fingers on the handles at the rear as his mind wandered. Just who the hell would smash into Nightingale’s apartment and kidnap her, but leave all of her computer gear? Clearly no one from her CIA past, he thought. This was starting to look personal, and his feeling that her disappearance might be connected to the hunt for the map was getting stronger — it would be just too much of a coincidence for it to be anything else.
He glanced quickly over her bedroom one more time, but the feeling of guilt returned. He had spoken to this woman so many times before, and she had saved his life, but she had never really invited him into her personal life. Now she was gone, and he was standing in the center of her universe, it all felt wrong.
On the side of her bed was a framed photo of a woman he presumed was her, with another man. He picked it up and looked at Nightingale for the first time. She was slim, with pale brown curly hair and sparkling green eyes. An innocent, honest smile made her look young and kind, but he knew this was a woman with a past. The man in the picture had seriously perfect hair with a dash of silver at the temples. At first glance he thought it must be a boyfriend, but then he thought he saw a resemblance and decided the man could easily be her brother. Whoever he was, Hawke thought he reminded him strongly of someone else, but couldn’t put his finger on it.
“Joe!” It was Lea, calling him from the main room. He set the picture carefully down on the side table and stepped back into the other room to see Ryan walking around the table activating all the computers, his face a study of solemn determination.
“Any luck?” he asked.
“Just firing these babies up,” Ryan said. Since the murder of Sophie Durand back in Tokyo, Hawke had noticed that Ryan was avoiding eye contact with him whenever he could, and keeping his quips to a minimum. Not surprising, Hawke thought, but he hoped that inside, Ryan had everything under control. He had gone through the same when Liz was killed in Hanoi — shot right in front of him — and it had been hard enough for a man with his training to deal with. How a loose-cannon like Ryan Bale might react was impossible to guess, but Hawke feared the worst. Most concerning was Ryan’s refusal to talk about it, but he knew he shouldn’t be pushed.