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SEVENTY-THREE
MALONE ADVANCED INTO THE WOODS, BLACK AND SILENT AND seemingly filled with threats. He spied a clearing ahead where sunshine spread unaffected by the leafy canopy. He glanced back and did not see Viktor, but understood why the man had disappeared. He heard voices, so he increased his pace, stopping behind a thick trunk near the path’s end.
He saw Cassiopeia. Tied between two trees. Her arms stretched outward. Irina Zovastina standing beside her.
Viktor was right.
Big trouble.
ZOVASTINA WAS BOTH INTRIGUED AND IRRITATED WITH CASSIOPEIA Vitt. “You don’t seem to care that you’re about to die.”
“If I cared, I wouldn’t have come with you.”
She decided it was time to give the woman a reason to live. “You asked on the plane about Ely. Whether he was alive. I didn’t answer you. Don’t you want to know?”
“I wouldn’t believe a word you said.”
She shrugged. “That’s a fair statement. I wouldn’t, either.”
She found a phone in her pocket and pushed one of the buttons.
STEPHANIE HEARD A RINGING. HER GAZE SHOT TO THE DEAD MAN lying on the rocky ground.
Thorvaldsen heard it, too.
“It’s Zovastina,” Ely said. “She calls me on the phone he brings.”
She darted to the body, found the unit, and said to Ely, “Answer it.”
CASSIOPEIA LISTENED AS ZOVASTINA SAID, “THERE’S SOMEONE here who wants to talk to you.”
Zovastina placed the phone close to her ear. She had no intention of saying anything, but the voice that came from the other side of the call sent an electric shock down her spine.
“What is it, Minister?” A pause. “Minister?”
She could not help herself. The voice confirmed all her doubts.
“Ely. It’s Cassiopeia.”
Silence greeted her.
“Ely? Are you there?” Her eyes burned.
“I’m here. Just shocked. It’s good to hear your voice.”
“Yours, too.” Emotion surged through her. Everything had changed.
“What are you doing here?” Ely asked.
“Looking for you. I knew…I hoped you weren’t dead.” She tried to maintain a tight grip on her emotions. “Are you okay?”
“I’m fine, but I’m worried about you. Henrik’s here with a woman named Stephanie Nelle.”
That was news. Cassiopeia tried to shove her apprehension aside and focus. Apparently, Zovastina was unaware of what was happening wherever Ely was being held. “Tell the minister what you just told me.”
Zovastina listened into the phone.
STEPHANIE HEARD ELY REPEAT HIMSELF. SHE UNDERSTOOD THE shock Cassiopeia must be experiencing, but why did Cassiopeia want Ely to tell the Supreme Minister they were here?
ZOVASTINA SAID INTO THE PHONE, “WHEN DID YOUR FRIEND Thorvaldsen and this woman arrive?”
“A short while ago. Your guard tried to kill them, but he’s dead.”
“Minister,” a new voice said in her ear, one she instantly recognized.
Thorvaldsen.
“We have Ely.”
“And I have Cassiopeia Vitt. I’d say she has another ten minutes or so to live.”
“We solved the riddle.”
“Lots of talk. From you and Vitt. Anything to back it up?”
“Oh, yes. We’ll be at the grave before nightfall. But you’ll never know.”
“You’re in my Federation,” she made clear.
“Except that we were able to enter, take your prisoner, and leave with him without you ever knowing.”
“But you made a point to tell me.”
“The only thing you have that I want is Cassiopeia. Call back if you want to bargain.”
And the call ended.
“YOU THINK THAT WAS SMART?” STEPHANIE ASKED THORVALDSEN.
“We have to keep her off balance.”
“But we don’t know what’s happening there.”
“Tell me what I don’t know.”
She could see Thorvaldsen was worried.
“We have to trust that Cotton is handling things,” he said.
ZOVASTINA FOUGHT THE FEELING OF UNEASINESS THAT SWEPT through her. These people fought hard, she’d give them that.
She freed a knife from its leather sleeve. “Your friends are here. And they have Ely. Unfortunately, contrary to what Thorvaldsen may think, he has nothing I want.”
She stepped close to the bundle of rope. “I’d much prefer to watch you die.”
MALONE SAW AND HEARD EVERYTHING. ELY LUND WAS APPARENTLY on the phone. He saw how Cassiopeia had been affected, but he also realized that someone else had come onto the call. Henrik? Stephanie? They were surely with Lund by now.
He could wait no longer. He rushed from his hiding place. “That’s enough.”
Zovastina stood with her back to him. He saw that she’d stopped her assault on the ropes.
“The knife,” he said. “Let it go.”
Cassiopeia watched him with a look of anticipation. He felt it, too. A bad feeling. Almost as if he’d been expected.
Two men stepped from the trees, weapons trained on him.
“Mr. Malone,” Zovastina said, as she turned toward him with a grim look of satisfaction on her face. “You can’t kill us all.”
PART FIVE
SEVENTY-FOUR
VINCENTI STEPPED INTO HIS LIBRARY, CLOSED THE DOOR, AND poured himself a drink. Kumis. A local specialty he’d come to enjoy. Fermented mare’s milk. Not much alcohol but quite a buzz. He downed the shot in one swallow and savored its almond aftertaste.
He poured another.
His stomach growled. He was hungry. He should tell the chef what he wanted for di
He sipped more Kumis.
Everything was about to unfold. His intuition from all those years ago had proven correct. All that stood in the way was Irina Zovastina.
He stepped to his desk. The house was equipped with a sophisticated satellite communications system, with direct links to Samarkand and his corporate headquarters in Venice. Drink in hand, he saw an e-mail had arrived from Kamil Revin about a half hour ago. Unusual. Revin, for all his joviality, distrusted any form of communication save face-to-face, with him controlling the time and location.
He opened the file and read the message.
THE AMERICANS WERE HERE.
His tired mind snapped alert. Americans? He was about to hit “Reply” when the study door burst open and Peter O’Co
“Four helicopter gunships bearing down on us. Federation.”
He darted to the windows and gazed west. At the far end of the valley four dots pricked the bright sky, growing larger.
“They just appeared,” O’Co
He wasn’t.
He returned to the computer and deleted the e-mail.
“They’ll be on the ground in less than ten minutes,” O’Co