Page 90 of Dangerous Secrets

Nick knew that the SWAT team was deployed, ready. They’d spent the past hour getting into position. He couldn’t see them, but he knew they were there. The comms system clicked steadily every quarter of an hour, ticking off men in position.

He’d been expecting a knock-down drag-out fight from Di Stefano about being down here where the action was and not up in the van, watching Alexei pace in frustration. But Di Stefano clearly realized Nick wouldn’t let anything get in the way between him and Charity while she was in Worontzoff’s house. Di Stefano had simply told Nick to suit up and that was that.

Di Stefano pulled out a small LCD monitor, holding it so that no one could detect its faint glow. It was programmed for thermal imaging and able to tune into the frequency of Charity’s microcamera.

He studied it carefully and signaled to Nick that everyone had left the room. To Nick’s surprise, he drew out a tiny drill and proceeded to drill a hole through the wall, at the level of the baseboard inside the house. It was high-speed and utterlysilent. As soon as the drill perforated the inside wall, Di Stefano threaded a combo microphone/fisheye lens snake into the hole.

Di Stefano fiddled with the tiny hand-held computer and suddenly, Nick had sound and a view inside the room. It was at foot level, but the camera had a good range.

Great, now they had eyes and ears in the room and could see and hear what Charity was seeing and hearing. Better than he’d hoped.

There was no one in the study, but there was music in the background. One of those sad Russian songs that had driven him crazy when he was on listening duty.

The comm system was piping sound to everyone on the loop, including Alexei. If Russian was spoken, Alexei would give a simultaneous interpretation.

Everything was good to go. Now all they could do was wait.

Nick was usually good at waiting. Stillness and darkness were his friends. Right now, though, his insides were racing at a thousand miles an hour. He gripped his MP5 tightly, glad for the gloves because his hands were sweating.

Two clicks from the Swat team members. Nothing happening.

Iceman hunkered down to wait. There was nothing else to do.

Nick had carefully pickedher clothes. The black cardigan was loose and didn’t show the tiny mike taped between her breasts or the battery pack taped to the small of her back. Even she had difficulty in seeing the microcamera, it was so well camouflaged. He’d also picked slate gray light-weight wool pants and comfortable boots. He hadn’t said it, but clearly he’d chosenher clothes not only to hide the camera and mike, but also for comfort if she had to move fast.

Nick had filled her head with instructions, but she hadn’t absorbed much beyond not turning her back, not letting material rub against the mike and not scratching herself.

She jolted at the sound of the front door-bell. Vassily’s driver, come to pick her up.

She looked at herself in the mirror. She was about to betray Vassily, something that she would have thought herself incapable of. She thought of the fake medicine, counterfeit washers, nuclear codes and what Nick had told her about the human trafficking Vassily’s organization engaged in. Mainly children.

And then she thought of Nick.

Two men. She’d loved both of them, in her way. The two most important men in her life, and she never really knew either of them.

The doorbell rang again and she picked up her coat. Taking a deep breath, she walked to the door.

Show-time.

Al-Hammad was late.But Vassily had learned patience at a hard school. The hardest. He wasn’t worried. Al-Hammad would come. He was too invested not to. Vassily had something al-Hammad wanted very very badly, with more on the way.

In the meantime, Vassily chatted amiably with his old friend, Arkady, over tea and vodka. They didn’t reminisce about days gone by, as old friends usually did. The past was much too painful. No, music and books wove their usual magic.

Finally, Ilya stood in the doorway. “He’s coming, Vor,” he said quietly. “He’ll be here in fifteen minutes.”

“Did you tell him to come alone?” Vassily asked sharply.

“Yes. He wasn’t happy about it, but he’s coming alone. Only the driver and him.”

Vassily didn’t care whether he was happy or not. All he cared about was the fact that a new and safe route had been found and that al-Hammad would be bringing twenty million dollars.

And that afterwards, he would be celebrating with Katya. Together. At long, long last.

Four clicks.The pre-arranged signal that someone was coming. A sentry was posted two miles up the road, well-camouflaged, with powerful binoculars.

Al-HammadDi Stefano mouthed. Nick nodded.

Word must have been given to Worontzoff, too. On the screen, Nick could see him and the Russian who’d brought the container and who was called Arkady enter the study.

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