9. Armenia
I made my way to Amasia in Armenia, where I made arrangements to transfer ten million
dollars from an offshore account in the Bahamas. I knew Katya would probably have a fit when she found out, but it was my money. The bankers were elated with the infusion of the money and I became their best customer and friend. I knew they would do anything that I asked of them.
I purchased a home in the city as a base of operations. I became Lara Donhujian and even obtained a passport and birth certificate; adding a driver’s license, two credit cards. When all of my papers and identity cards were in place, I went to City Hall to meet with the Mayor.
Introducing myself to his secretary, I indicated I had an appointment. His secretary nodded and stood up. She went to the door and opened it, saying, “Lara Donhujian is here, sir.” It was obvious that the Mayor’s office was in serious need of updating their equipment.
At her nod, I entered the office. For this I was dressed in a black business suit. The skirt was short and came to my mid-thigh. The heels were three inch and I towered over the man behind the desk. My makeup was perfect: red lipstick, soft gray eye shadow, face
powder that lightly covered some of my aging lines around eyes and mouth. I thought I looked spectacular and so, evidently, did the Mayor whose eyes widened as I entered. He indicated the chair in front of his desk.
“My dear Mrs. Donhujian, how nice to see you. I’ve heard you’re looking to buy some property.”
“Da, my late husband was very fond of his country even though he never visited it. He lived in Kiev before moving to Moscow where he worked for various government agencies.”
“But certainly he would have had time to visit when on holiday,” said the Mayor.
“We did, but never here. We actually planned to visit next year, but sadly,” I held a handkerchief to my eyes, “he was killed in a car accident six months ago.” I shifted my legs, allowing him to catch sight of my red bikini panties as I did.
He flushed with obvious pleasure. “I am so sorry. What can I do to help you?”
“You are very kind.” I flashed him the warmest smile I could muster. “I want to buy property, a lot of it, and thought you could help with the sales. I would even pay you a commission.”
“Do you know what land you want?” He preened with importance.
“Paradise Valley, all of it!”
His eyes widened. “All of it???” He seemed shocked by the answer.
“Da, all of it. Is that a problem?”
“There are several families living there.”
I flashed him another smile. “I want the land, not the homes. They can stay. I promise I won’t evict them. How many families?”
“Ten maybe and scattered. I take it that you will pay them?”
“Of course. I may even hire some of them.” Again I smiled. “I should warn you that I know what the land is worth and I will pay a fair price. Gouging will be dealt with severely.”
The Mayor was surprised by the vehemence in my voice, but I meant it. I knew how some of these small town bureaucrats acted, especially when tempted with money. However not with mine. Of course, if he thought I was a woman who didn’t know how to manage it, he would try, but would fail. Still I thought I could handle him.
I stood. “Let me know, sir, who I need to see about the land. I want the names and location of each land owner. I should warn you that I am also aware that the bulk of the valley is for sale, so play no games.”
The Mayor was paid a ‘finders’ fee and did well.
Everything went smoothly and I soon had possession of the land deeds. The people on the land became tenants and some became employees. I fast-tracked supplies and began building a home. I ordered an electronics package from a high-tech company that I owned, thanks to Katya. I hired a contractor and gave work to over a hundred men from the valley and the city. I wanted the home up quickly and efficiently without any future problems resulting from poor workmanship.
I lived in a small trailer for three months as the home became a reality. It sat on a low cliff overlooking the valley by some fifty feet. It was U-shaped with two bedrooms and a bath on one side and a master bedroom/bathroom and office on the other. In the center was a huge living room, dining area, kitchen and guest bathroom. Solar heating was installed on the roof. A garage was also built and was big enough to hold four cars and a workshop.
It was completed to my satisfaction and thoroughly cleaned. The furniture was delivered on the date specified. When the last van had left, I was alone in front of the house that now was fully landscaped and ready for occupancy. In the garage was a black Mercedes sedan, a Ferrari, a black Hummer, and a Corvette. Buried in the ground on the far side of the garage was a ten thousand gallon tank for gas. I planned to hide out here in Armenia for as long as it took for the intelligence world to forget Irina Derevko.
In the office built next to my bedroom was a bank of security screens, a computer that controlled them and a work computer for communication. It was here I planned to wait for word about Sydney and keep out of sight so that no one would suspect Irina Derevko was alive.
2004
Irina is 53
10. Sydney
It was only a few months later that I realized I had not spoken to nor seen Jack for almost a year. I knew in my heart that something drastic had happened to him. My guess was that he was in prison because of me. I’d heard nothing from Katya regarding Sydney. Evidently Yelena was keeping a tight rein on her whereabouts or—I hoped—my daughter had escaped.
I lived simply keeping myself active on a rigid schedule. A five-mile run every morning, weather permitting and a two hour workout in the early afternoon kept me in shape. Interspersed with that were an occasional workout with one of my men. I’d come across a couple of ex-Red army men, who were in good shape by doing heavy construction work. I inquired at the bank about the two and found that they had a reasonably good reputation for hard work and respectability.
I wished I could have Grigor with me, but that was impossible now. I needed a couple of men I could trust, one to do my driving and the other to go with me when I needed to go to town. They agreed to my offer and settled into a routine which included hand to hand fighting. Thinking of Sydney, I was aware that I’d lost a couple of steps because of my age, but I decided to hit fast and try to end my encounters within two to three minutes or less. The workouts were designed to do just that. I also kept my knife throwing in a groove that would be useful.
I spent an hour each day at a rifle range, firing both hand guns and rifles. My two ex-army men were impressed.
“You are good, very good,” said Koukurian, the older of the two. “Who trained you? Army?”
I smiled. “No. You don’t need to know.” I knew they were curious about me, but the less they knew, the safer they would be. “I’m a dangerous person to cross. My advice is to enjoy the job and the money you make. If I find out that you’ve talked to anyone about me, I’ll kill you.” To emphasize my point, I fired my hand gun five times. The bullets hit the bull’s eye in neat circle.
“Da, we understand.” Stepan, the younger, nodded as did his companion.
“Good.” I unloaded the gun and began cleaning it.
One day I glanced at the calendar and realized that it had been nearly two years since Sydney had disappeared and one year since I’d seen Jack. I sat at my computer with a cup of tea going through my email. There were not many messages. Just a few messages from my banking interests in Hong Kong and in Amasia. I usually heard from Katya once a month.
I scrolled down to the London Globe notice and clicked on the personal ads link, although at this point I didn’t think I would ever find anything. Then my heart stopped. There was a message from Jack. I exited from the link and went to my IM box to see if there were any stored messages. There was...from distinguished music lover.
I typed: “I couldn’t believe it when I saw your ad in the London Globe.” Even though I was in Armenia now, I kept tabs on newspapers that Jack and I agreed to use as message drops.
“Glad you’re alive,” he typed back. “Our daughter is alive.”
My heart gave a lurch and I smiled happily. “My God. How is she?”
“Recovering although she doesn’t remember the last two years.” He typed. “I need your help getting background on a man named Andrian Lazarey.”
I thought about it; then answered. “Will upload all intel to our FTP drop site.” I hesitated again. “I miss you.”
“Miss you too.” Then he was gone.
It was the truth, I did miss him. Sydney was back and not hurt. I know he had to be careful and wouldn’t been giving me long messages, but he could have said a little more. I would have liked to know what happened to him the past year. I wondered if Sydney had told Jack about the apartment in Rome. Damn it, I would have liked to know more about what happened to her too!
There was someone I could find out information. I wrote an email to my special contact in L.A. We had not communicated since Sydney’s death/disappearance. He was my one friend at the CIA. His only job for me was to keep me informed about Sydney’s whereabouts and about what she was doing. For two years he’d been paid monthly prior to her so-called death and also during the two years she was missing. He owed me and I wanted information. I received an email two days later.
“Sydney has been gone for two years. She doesn’t remember anything that happened to her. Consequently she is frustrated and desperate to know something. She is also upset that Vaughn has married.” I was surprised but also knew Sydney must have been hurt by the knowledge.
“Jack was in prison the past year for consorting with a known terrorist—you. NSA released him when Sydney recovered a chip with vital info they wanted. Vaughn has returned to work at CIA and his wife, Lauren, is here also as the liaison officer from NSA. There seems to be an uncomfortable relationship between the three of them…naturally.”
That was all, but it was enough to assuage my curiosity. At least she was safe and Jack was back on duty. I had a book to send to Sydney. I knew she’d lost everything in the fire and it was the only thing I could think of that would remind her I was still thinking of her…a first edition copy of “Alice in Wonderland” in which I’d written ‘To Sydney Anne on her 5th birthday. Love, Mom.’
I spent a day obtaining information on Andrian Lazeray. He was a Russian diplomat, but had been killed by a blond who came to see him. I knew it was Sydney, but I believed Jack when he said Sydney could not be turned. That meant the possibility she knew Lazeray and that they concocted his murder. Sydney evidently got rid of the body, but what was the reason? I forwarded the information to Jack, but wasn’t sure it would be useful until Sydney regained her memory.
11. The Passenger
Nadia is alive!
Moy bog, my missing child is alive! Katya called me and told me the news. She wanted to meet me, but I was in Armenia and she was in Moscow. Finally she said we would meet in Paris. She had to go there on business for the Covenant. I was to find a table at the Café L’Estrange near the Louvre Museum. I had to be there in three days. I agreed and although I didn’t tell her, my bodyguards would also be there near by.
I spent two days waiting. Stepan and Koukurian were always near by, reading newspapers and eating or drinking. I always had an espresso. There were dozens of people around us, mostly tourists who were waiting to get into the museum. I was willing to be patient and watched for Katya.
On the third morning, she showed up. “Rishka,” she said.
I stood and we kissed. “Katusha,” I said. “I am happy to see you. You look good.” I waved to a waiter, pointing at my espresso and held up two fingers. He nodded.
She laughed. “How are you?”
“Skip the preliminaries. Where is Nadia?”
“I don’t know!”
“But I thought...”
She shook her head. “No, Rishka, I haven’t seen her. She has disappeared according to Yelena. By the way, I bet you didn’t know Yelena not only knew where Nadia was, but helped to bring her up.”
My eyes narrowed and my blood turned cold. “What?”
“Yes, but don’t worry. She loved the child. She was very upset when Nadia went missing. She told me about her ten days ago. Yelena and I were having dinner and she had two drinks more than she should. She told me Nadia was raised in an orphanage in Argentina.”
I stared at her in shock. My hands were shaking. “How...how did she...”
“I don’t know those particulars just that she ended up as the head mistress of the orphanage. The KGB ordered her to find Nadia after Bill Vaughn took her. There was a man who was a member of the Followers of Rambaldi group that Vaughn was a part of. He told the KGB that Nadia had been taken to Argentina, but he didn’t know where.”
“Why was she so important to them?” I shook my head trying to remember anything about that time.
“She is The Passenger.” Katya stared at me. “I thought you knew?”
“Why would they tell me any thing? I was a prisoner and suspected of treason.” I frowned, trying to remember Rambaldi’s book. I remembered the prediction written next to the picture of Sydney. For years, I tried not to think about its meaning.
The waiter came with our espressos. We said nothing.
“Does anyone else know about this?” I asked as he left.
“Anyone that Bill Vaughn might have told.” Katya leaned forward, not wanting to be overheard. “Irina, its impossible to track Nadia now. No one knows if she’s alive or dead. Yelena says that she lost track after Nadia joined Argentinean Intelligence. The man who headed up the group is dead.”
Suddenly my memory opened up and I remembered. I did read the book and did see the mention of The Passenger. It said there would be a fight between herself and The Chosen One and that only one would survive. I didn’t believe Nadia was alive at that time and simply skimmed it, but now...now the possibility was assured. All that was needed was proof that she was alive...somewhere.
“Can you use your resources to hunt for her?” Katya said.
“I’m trying to stay out of anyone’s line of sight,” I said. “Too many people are looking for me.”
“What about Jack?”
“I haven’t heard from him in almost a year. I think he might be in prison.” I lied simply to keep Jack away from Katya’s eyes. She didn’t know him.
“How about Arvin Sloane?”
“No! He gave the CIA all the Rambaldi artifacts he had in order to cut himself a deal. He’s in Zurich. I won’t contact him.” I glanced around and saw that Koukurian and Stepan were still in their seats. “At least until I know more, but perhaps not even then. I don’t trust him.”
“Then how are you going to find her?”
“I don’t know, but I’ll start in Argentina with my contacts there.”
“They’ll know you’re alive?”
I heaved a sigh, nodding, “I know, but...” I was trapped. My purpose was to stay out of sight. Only Jack knew I was alive, perhaps he told Sydney too, but he didn’t know where. I trusted Katya to a point. She liked to gossip. Secrets sometimes were dangerous in her hands. “I’ll have to think about it. What else do you know about The Passenger?”
“Yelena is not sure about Nadia’s place in Rambaldi’s prophecies...as well as Sydney’s.”
“Really? Does she have another scenario in mind?”
Katya glanced away, staring at the traffic rushing by; then she turned back to look at me. “I think she’s toying with the possibility that you are The Chosen One and she is The Passenger.”
“Does she?” That was a surprise. I didn’t believe it, because that picture looked a lot more like Sydney than me. “Sounds as though she’d like us to do battle.”
“Da,” answered Katya with a smile. “But then you two were always at odds from the time you were born.”
I sipped my espresso, finishing it. “Poor Katya, always in the middle too.” I laughed. “If there isn’t anything else I should go.”
“No, but I wanted to see you. You look good and rested. What are you doing with yourself?”
“Farming.”
Katya’s mouth opened in shock. “You must be joking.”
“Yes,” I lied again. “I am, however, catching up on my reading.”
She stood, laughing. “Very well, Rishka, stay well.”
I kissed her on both cheeks. “Take care, Katusha, and know that I love you.”
“If you need me, you know where I am.” She put her hand up to my face for a moment; then turned a walked up the street.
“And be careful,” I whispered, watching her.
12. Capture
It was several weeks later that I heard from Jack again. He seemed frantic even though it was only an email.
I NEED HELP.
Long time, Jack. What brings you to my door?
OUR DAUGHTER
“Trouble?”
DOWNED IN THE Q-GONG PROVINCE
“Alive?” Oh please, I thought, be alive.
? Was what he typed.
“How can I help?”
NEED ALLIES IN NORTH KOREA. His word brought a chill to me. Damn it, I would have to bring Katya into this.
“I may know someone who can help. I’ll be in touch.”
When we had finished, I took out a cell phone and dialed Katya. Glancing at my watch I saw that it was evening in Moscow also and hopefully she would be home.
She answered on the fourth ring. “Hello?”
“Katusha, it’s me.”
“It’s about time. It’s been weeks.”
“I know, but there was nothing more to report—until now.”
“What?”
“Sydney has been captured in North Korea. I know you have contacts there. Can you make arrangements to get her out safely?”
“Perhaps, but my contact is in L.A.”
“Yes, I remember. Jack will help. Would you meet him at Sydney’s apartment at 8:00 p.m.?” I asked.
“Why not! I would love to meet this man of yours.”
I was silent for a moment, thinking about Katya and her love of men. She knew I cared about him still. It couldn’t be helped. Sydney needed rescuing and quickly. “Good. Two nights from now.” I gave her the address.
“Well, that’s pretty fast.”
“We don’t have much time.”
There was a long sigh and then, “Very well. I’ll let you know what happened.”
“Just that Sydney is safe.” I said. I didn’t embellish on the remark and ended our conversation. “Spasibo. Safe trip.”
I went to my computer and opened it. I entered Jack’s private code and typed: SYDNEY’S APARTMENT. 8 PM
I didn’t expect a reply yet.
The days passed and I kept busy overseeing the construction of a storage warehouse on my property, but located nearer Amisha. On the third day, I opened my computer email and found an email from Katya. I opened it to find that she was waiting for me to contact her. I made the phone call.
“Katusha, it’s me.”
“I know.”
“And Sydney?”
“She’s safe. Why didn’t you tell me she was in North Korea with Vaughn to pick up a Covenant defector?”
“I didn’t know that!” I said.
“If Yelena finds out…” She left the rest of the sentence unsaid.
“Well, I’m not going to tell her. Spasibo, Katusha. And Jack…?”
There was silence at the other end. “He’s very distinguished looking. Has nice eyes. Ears are a bit large.”
I almost snapped a retort, but caught myself. I didn’t want to give her any reason to doubt my attempt at not being jealous. That just might cause Katya to think it was a challenge to her.
“I kissed him.” She said next.
I was silent with surprise. “…and?” I probed.
“I told him it was for you.”
“Spasibo,” I said softly. “When are you coming home?”
“In a day or two…I have some things to wrap up with my Korean contact first.”
The weeks passed by slowly and although I received a few messages from my CIA contact informing me of Sydney’s actions, nothing very exciting was the result. I decided to make a trip to Moscow to see Grigor and review my financials in place there. I took precautions: disguise and bodyguard, Stepan, leaving Pietr back home. He would have free time to be with his family.
Stepan had never been to Moscow even though he’d been in the Army. He was excited and thrilled to be going. I’d cautioned him to think about his job first. This was a dangerous place for me and he needed to be on guard 24/7 when he was with me. I planned to spend only four maybe five more days at the apartment before returning to the ranch. Katya would miss me if she didn’t get back by then.
I had been there for a couple of days, enjoying the sights and sounds of my birth city, while waiting for Katya to return from whatever errand Yelena had sent her. Grigor picked Stepan and me up and drove to his apartment where Maria was waiting. Grigor was my supervisor on the apartment buildings, but his wife did the book work.
Grigor, Maria and I went over the books and I’d approved needed repairs.
“Grigor, I trust you and Maria to do what’s right. If I’m not available, don’t wait for me. Do them.” I looked into his rugged, but handsome face. He blushed. “But you are boss.”
I grinned. “Yes, I am, but now I’m telling you to do these when it is necessary. Do not let the tenants worry about when. Just do them. There is plenty of money in the bank.” I kissed him on both cheeks. “Now I’m going home.”
“When do you leave?” He asked.
I shrugged. “I don’t know. I want to see Katya before I do. That is if she returns soon.”
“Be careful. Too many bad people want you dead...” He put his hand on my shoulder; then I left.
The next morning I finished my run and was checking my emails when I found one from Jack. What did he want? Sydney was okay. She and Vaughn had returned from North Korea with their Covenant defector. I opened the email.
IRINA. I HAVE INTEL ABOUT COVENANT ENDGAME. I NEED INFORMATION.
Wonderful, I thought. I really was interested as to what Yelena was up to since Katya still had been kept in the dark.
“What do you need?” I typed.
“INFORMATION ABOUT THE PASSENGER.”
Govno, govno, govno! I froze thinking about my next move. I knew Yelena was after Nadia, but now the CIA?
IRINA? He pressed.
I pulled the plug. Damn it, he was not going to get any information from me. I typed in the necessary codes and closed the account with my server.
The next day I went out at dawn to run. I decided not to go to any gym while I was in town. Jack said it was too dangerous as there were too many people around anyone of whom could be involved with one or more intelligence agencies. The run, however, also proved to be dangerous; more so than I ever dreamed.
It was nearly six in the morning when I stopped to look at my watch. I was about to turn around and go back the way I’d come, when I saw four figures walking toward me. I’m not sure why, but I sensed they were coming for me. There was purpose in their stride and one of them was looking directly at me.
“Stepan, come with me.” I didn’t want to use my weapon or Stepan’s. We were in the heart of Gorky Park and already there were several people out walking or jogging.
“Chyort!” I looked around. Another two were coming from that direction. “felgercarb!” I didn’t hesitate, but took off running to the left heading for some buildings. Stepan followed. One of them was a pavilion I thought if my memory served me right. I wondered fleetingly if they were MI6 or even CIA, but it was only momentary because I had to concentrate on outdistancing them if at all possible.
I didn’t look back.
I ran by two buildings and heard a gunshot as the bullet missed me by inches. Then I heard another, followed by a grunt from Stephan who fell to the ground. I knew he’d been shot, but I didn’t stop. They were after me and not him.
I turned left into the biggest building, running up the stairs and inside. The room was empty and fairly large. I looked around. There was a door to my right and I ran for it. It opened into a closet that was empty also. The door I’d just come through, slammed open and three figures entered.
There were three males, one of whom was small, but looked fast, very fast. One male was black, well over six two, solid muscle and a long reach. The third one was Asian, black eyes like marbles, and the lithe sort of build that told me he’d be as quick and agile as a lizard.
The smaller man came first, a graceful handspring that scissored by my face. To counter, I dived, swept out his legs, and landed the first blow on Asian, who was caught off guard while watching the first man. I gained to my feet and blocked a blow with a forearm.
I felt the smack of flesh to flesh vibrate as well as resonate.
I parried, caught a movement out of the corner of my eye and spun to meet the small man stamping on his instep, and followed that with a hard elbow jab to the jaw.
I took a blow that knocked me down, used my hands and quads to flip back up before the next landed. The Asian spun in, caught me with a flying kick to the kidneys that sent me skidding over the floor on my belly. Breathing through my teeth, I pushed up on my arms, kicked back and took the black guy down with two hard heels to the groin. He’d been stupidly watching while his two smaller friends were doing the work.
Outnumbered, and in two cases, outweighed, I was holding my own. I took a hard blow to the face as all three came at me at once. I blocked one by flipping him over my back, evaded the smaller one with an agile shoulder roll, but the Asian caught me with a sharp backward kick that sent me down again. I rolled over and up to my feet, noticing the black was winded and the small man was favoring his left leg.
I went for the black guy again. He might have been the biggest, but the groin shot had hurt him. Using the small man as the decoy, I flew into a double spin, a snapping side kick, easily blocked, and used the momentum to carry me around, push me forward so that my upper body, head and fists all connected with the black man’s crotch.
This time he went down, and stayed down.
Rolling away and somersaulting to my feet, I blocked blows with my forearms, my shoulders, taking the defensive and drawing both my opponents in close. A short arm punch to the jaw snapped the small man’s head back and the elbow I jabbed into his throat took him out. I shoved the falling body into the Asian.
He had to spin away, but came back at me. We were both puffing now, and the sweat stung my eyes. I doubled over when his foot landed in my gut. And he was fast—but not quite fast enough to snap his leg back before I grabbed his ankle and heaved. He used the move to carry himself over into a flip, punched the landing with a grace I admired, even as I was hurtling toward him, springing up into a flying kick. My heel landed on the bridge of his nose, and I heard a satisfying crunch as the bone was shoved into his brain. He dropped to the ground dead.
“Impressive, Irina,” was the last thing I heard as my head exploded and everything went black.
TBC