The Spy Who Came for Christmas (29 page)

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Authors: David Morrell

Tags: #Crime, #Fiction, #Thrillers, #Suspense, #Espionage, #Organized Crime, #Russia

BOOK: The Spy Who Came for Christmas
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"Why are you speaking like that?"

Ted cocked his head.

"The cry seemed to come from . . . the kitchen? No . . . the laundry room."

"Why do you keep pausing?"

"I have no idea what you're talking about. I just want to know what's going on."

"You're giving me a bad feeling, Ted."

"The laundry room."

'A
very
bad feeling. Those men outside--did you lie about them?"

"Why would I--"

"Did they promise they'd let you and Meredith and Cole go free, that they wouldn't hurt you if you helped them?"

"I told you, nobody's out there," Ted protested. The sudden, deeper unsteadiness in his voice made Kagan more apprehensive.

"They're killers, Ted. Whatever they told you isn't true. They have a strict rule about not leaving witnesses."

Meredith turned from crouching near the window. "Ted, dear God, did you lie to us?"

"Of
course
not."

"Are they out there? Are you helping them?"

"I'm not helping anybody," Ted answered, much too fast.

"On your knees again," Kagan ordered.

"My knees?"

"You keep pausing while you talk. Are you listening to someone? Why is your hat still on?"

Kagan kicked the back of Ted's legs and dropped him to his knees. He yanked off Ted's hat. With the earflaps gone, he probed Ted's right ear but found nothing.

"Hey!" Ted objected, trying to twist away.

Kagan probed Ted's left ear, his stomach turning when he found something that blocked it. Sick, he pulled out the earbud. "Where's the microphone?"

"Microphone?"

Kagan whacked his gun barrel against the side of Ted's forehead. "You stupid fool, give me the damned microphone!"

Ted groaned, raising a hand to his head.

"The microphone!" Kagan hit him again with the gun barrel. "Where is it?"

"Under my coat collar."

Kagan found it and pulled it free. "Where's the transmitter?"

"In one of my gloves. When you knocked me down, I shoved it under that chair."

Grabbing for it, Kagan shouted, "Meredith, you know where to go. Hurry. Cole, he told them you're hiding behind the television cabinet. You'll need to find another spot."

"But they promised they wouldn't hurt us!" Ted insisted, his voice rising. "I'd never put my son in danger!"

"That's exactly what you did."

"No! All I care about is protecting my family. Meredith, I was only trying to help you and Cole. Surely you understand that."

"Pay attention," Kagan demanded. "Who are you going to believe? Your wife and son, who trust me, or those men outside, who'll do anything to get their hands on the baby? I promise you, they won't think twice about killing us all. They never leave witnesses."

'All I wanted was--"

"For God's sake, shut up and help your family!"

* * *

CROUCHING IN THE
living room, Kagan listened as Meredith hurried toward the laundry room, where she'd hidden the baby.

He had no idea what new hiding place Cole had chosen, and he didn't dare ask, aware that Andrei would hear through the microphone he'd taken from Brody. He was about to shut off the transmitter or relieve his anger by hurling the microphone onto the brick floor and smashing it, but suddenly he realized he had a use for it.

He shoved the earbud into his left ear and spoke into the microphone. "Andrei?"

"Regrets, my friend?" The voice sounded bitter. "I warned you how this would end."

Instinctively, Kagan directed his words toward the front window.

"There are computers in the house. I e-mailed for help. The police are on their way."

"No, Pyotyr. When I rehearsed things with my not-so- good spy, he told me his computers have password locks."

"Password locks," Kagan repeated, staring at Ted.

Ted seemed paralyzed by confusion. Abruptly, he murmured, "I'll fix that." He crawled across the living room, squirmed over the drawers at the end of the hallway, and entered his office.

"Give me the package, and my offer still holds," Andrei's acid voice said through the earbud. "You can walk away."

"Why don't I believe you?" Kagan said into the microphone.

"Then consider
this.
Your foolishness has involved other people. You're responsible for everything that happens to the family in there. Their deaths will be your fault."

Kagan couldn't help glancing behind him: first toward the shadows of the laundry room, where Meredith hid with the baby, and then toward a glow in Ted's office, presumably caused by a computer screen. He heard Ted's fingers clicking at a keyboard.

Where's Cole?
he wondered.

"But if you give me the package," Andrei's voice said, "I'll let the family live."

"Even though they're witnesses?"

"Only the man saw us. But I'll make an exception and allow him to live, along with his wife and son. We'll be out of Santa Fe before the police get organized. I don't risk much by letting the family survive. It's my gesture to you, Pyotyr, because I valued your friendship, even though you didn't value mine. Give me the package. Accept your punishment. Since you apparently have a conscience, at least you'll know that others won't suffer because of you."

"It's a baby, Andrei. Not a package. If I do as you ask, what happens to him?"

"Our clients will keep it, to use it to pressure Hassan into rejecting his cause and going back to being a doctor. That's a better way than assassinating him and turning him into a martyr. In his speeches, Hassan promises his followers that he'll be

tireless in his pursuit of a lasting peace. When he swears, 'I'll never let you down,' thousands flock to him. If he quits, his followers will be so disillusioned that his cause will wither."

"And a year from now? Two years from now? What happens to the child then?" Kagan demanded.

"Hassan and his wife will be allowed occasional secret visits. There's a birthmark on its left heel."

"Yes. Shaped like a rose."

"Proof that it's still alive, that there hasn't been a substitution. To keep anything from happening to it, Hassan and his wife won't dare to take up the cause again."

"You keep calling the baby 'it.' Not 'it,' Andrei.
He.
A person."

"Pyotyr, you know there are only objects. If you'd remembered that, you wouldn't be having this problem. What's your real name?"

Kagan ignored the question. He had an urgent one of his own.

"Hassan's enemies, will they raise his child?"

"Yes. Until he's old enough to be trained as a suicide bomber."

The statement felt like a blow to Kagan's stomach. Something in him went numb. Only after a moment did he realize that Andrei had referred to the child as "he," not "it."

"What's your real name?" Andrei repeated.

Train him to be a suicide bomber?
Kagan felt sickened, unable to speak.

Ted crawled from his office and reached Kagan, who tapped the microphone against his leg to prevent Andrei from hearing what Ted whispered.

"I have phone capability on my computers, but when I tried the Santa Fe police, all I got was a busy signal. The snow must have caused a lot of accidents. I sent an e-mail to people I know in Santa Fe, telling them to contact the police and get a SWAT team here."

Kagan nodded, doing his best to look optimistic. Still, he couldn't help thinking,
It's Christmas Eve. Is this the one night of the year when people won't check their e-mail? Or will their phone calls only jam the 911 phone circuits more? How many hours might it take before the police arrive?

The glow from Ted's office made him feel exposed. He whispered to Ted. "The light from your monitors. Shut them off."

Immediately, he stopped tapping the microphone and said to it, "My real name? It's what I told you. It's Pyotyr. I didn't lie about everything. Our friendship's real."

"Of course. And your
last
name?" Andrei's voice asked.

"You know I won't tell you that. I need to protect my family."

"Your family?" Andrei sounded indignant. "You mean you have a wife, and you didn't tell me?"

"No! How could I work undercover this long and be married? Don't you think I want a wife and children like
you
do? Don't you think I
envy
you? My mother and father.
They're
my family."

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