Eagle's Heart (24 page)

Alexi pointed the gun at Salomeh, who was struggling not to vomit.

“That’s actually what I came here to do,” Alexi said nonchalantly. “She kept telling me you would show up. I thought I’d humor her a bit since I knew you’d been barbecued last night, but I guess the bitch wasn’t lying for once.”

He walked up to Salomeh and shoved the gun under her chin, smiling deviously at her.

“And if you’re alive, that means Tamali is alive.” He gave her a malicious grin. “Bardhyn is gonna love me once I deliver you to his doorstep.”

Chapter Twenty-Three

Julian prowled Fordham Road and its connecting streets, cutting through the multihued hodgepodge of people. Sprinkled in among the crowd were people who offered brief glimpses of home, their faces shaped by the unmistakable markers of Albanian lineage.

The club was nearby, but Julian’s initial resolve to go it alone was wavering. When he had left the hotel, sneaking into this meeting and busting it up had seemed the best choice. He had convinced himself that he couldn’t trust anyone else after Henderson’s betrayal, that he
had
to go it alone. But that wasn’t entirely true.

Part of him wanted to take on Bardhyn himself, with no assistance, to engage in a final battle of good versus evil that had been built up in his mind by years of delayed vengeance. But if he were honest, going to Ryli’s alone was essentially a suicide mission. In some ways, he had been living out an extended suicide mission since his family had been killed. After they had been taken away, Julian had convinced himself that his inability to save them had been the ultimate failure. With their deaths, he had forfeited all honor—and any right to happiness. That was why he had never allowed himself to feel a sense of home or a sense of belonging, until Salomeh had come into his life.

Bardhyn needed to be taken out, but Julian couldn’t give in to his self-destructive urges. If he tried to do this alone and was killed in the process, Bardhyn really would win, as would the people he was selling small arms to. Preventing a terrorist attack trumped a self-serving plan for revenge.

Besides, Salomeh was waiting for him.

He stopped at a neighborhood store to get a burner; the disposable cell phones were usually available in areas with people too poor to afford monthly plans and drug dealers wealthy enough to afford buying them in bulk.

The plastic casing was ridiculously hard to open, but he eventually got the phone out and activated it before placing his call.

The phone rang four times, Julian’s heart sinking with each ring, until finally a child’s voice whispered a curious “Hello?” through the earpiece.

“Hello,” he said. “Who’s this?”

A monstrous-sounding cough was followed by a jarringly sweet little voice. “Abigail speaking,” she said, clearly mimicking an adult, and then added. “I’m very sick.”

Yates’s niece.

“Is your aunt around, Abigail? It’s very important that I speak to her.”

There was a pause, and then the child whispered into the phone again. “Auntie Miranda is sad. I saw her crying this morning.”

Julian’s hope leaped. Was she crying for him? Had his death come as a surprise to her, then?

“That’s terrible, little one, but it is very important that I talk to your aunt. Can you give her the phone, please?”

There was a pause as the child deliberated.

“I’m good at cheering people up,” Julian said in a cajoling tone. “An expert at it.”

“Okay.”

He heard the sound of a short-legged jog across the room, and then Yates’s voice came through across the line. “Miranda Yates,” she said, her voice edged with caution.

“Yates. It’s Julian.”

There was a pause.

“This isn’t funny, asshole. I can trace your ass so fast you’ll regret—”

“Miranda,” he said more firmly. “It’s me. Do you need me to put on my qeleshe and xhaqete to prove it to you? I’m sure I can find some in this part of town.”

He heard the fumbling sound of someone nearly dropping a cell phone, and then she was speaking to him again. “But you’re dead. Henderson told me there was an ambush, and that you and Salomeh were killed. I was about to contact her next of kin.”

“Henderson thought we were dead because he left us for dead,” Julian said.

“What are you saying, Julian?” she asked. “Please don’t be saying what I think you’re saying.”

“If you think you’re surprised, imagine how I felt when he led Salomeh and me right into the path of a rocket launcher-wielding maniac.”

“You expect me to believe that? A rocket launcher?”

“Well, it was more like a grenade launcher, but that’s beside the point. They really aren’t that hard to obtain, especially for an organization with deep ties to weapons smuggling,” he said. “Not very practical, though.”

“Julian, this doesn’t make sense,” she said. “You’ve only worked with him for a few months, but I’ve known Henderson for years. He’s always been a dedicated agent. He’s made some of the biggest busts in this city! Why would he suddenly go over to the dark side?”

“Yates, I wish it wasn’t true. I really wish it wasn’t. He almost succeeded. Salomeh…”

“Oh God. Is she hurt? Is she dead?” Yates asked.

Ice gripped Julian’s heart at the thought. “No, but it was a very near thing. He led her into a trap after he had interviewed her for hours and wrung everything she knew out of her. I can understand trying to get rid of me, but Henderson was going to let an innocent get killed in the crossfire.”

“Jesus. Give me a minute, Tamali, I’m trying to process this information. You’re alive. Henderson is a turncoat. Fuck.”

He gave her about thirty seconds, and then continued. “I’m a little short on time, Yates,” he said as he walked toward an Albanian bakery across the street from the club.

“Okay. What do you need?”

“I have a location on Birdie.”

“What? How’d you get that?”

“Long story. It’s a strip club on the corner of Fordham Road and Webster called Ryli’s. He’s supposedly having a meeting there today with the West African syndicate that’s been blowing up our intel. Not sure which country, since my source wasn’t very specific, and then he was very dead.”

“We’ve been hearing a lot of chatter about the fundamentalist from that region trying to find a means to launch an attack on American soil,” she said, and he could almost hear the gears in her head whirring. “These guys are possibly meeting with a known weapons smuggler and passport forger? Do you know how huge that would be if we caught them in the act?”

“It would mean we had taken out the biggest dog in the Balkan criminal underworld and possibly foiled a terrorist plot. That’s a promotion for you, Yates, and Henderson’s position will be vacant soon if I—we—can pull this off.”

“Okay, give me some time. I’ll see who I can round up who I can trust to keep this quiet.”

“The meeting is scheduled for two,” he said, angry with himself for not contacting her sooner.

“Jesus, Tamali, could you have given me shorter notice?” she snapped. “Give me the address so we don’t bust into the wrong place.”

He gave her the address and coordinated where they would meet.

“All right, I’ll call you back at this number,” she said.

“I’ll be waiting,” he said and would have hung up but heard her start to speak.

“Thanks for trusting me, Julian,” she said. “Thanks for knowing I could never be part of what Henderson did.”

And then there was silence.

Now all he could do was wait for the cavalry to come in.

Chapter Twenty-Four

The muzzle of the gun was still warm as it pressed into the sensitive skin beneath Salomeh’s chin. She couldn’t help but think of how quickly another bullet could come flying up and through that opening if Alexi pulled the trigger.

His body was leaning into hers, obscenely close. She could smell his aftershave; it was the same hideous scent many of her male students wore, but they had the excuse of being too young and inexperienced to realize the smell was foul. Despite Alexi’s overpowering nearness, despite the warm metal possibility of death pressed into her skin, she couldn’t make herself look away from Ms. Kaslinko lying lifeless at her feet.

Salomeh had already seen many deaths in the past two days, but seeing Ms. Kaslinko’s undignified repose shook common sense into her.

Ms. Kaslinko was different from the thugs she’d seen taken down, from the man who had been blown up before her. Salomeh knew this woman. Sure, Ms. Kaslinko had been vile. But she had been a part of the real world where Salomeh was a teacher and her biggest problem had been trying to schedule in her next committee meeting. Before she had become an enemy, the woman had been a student’s parent.

What am I doing here? Salomeh thought.

Julian had tried to make her realize how dangerous her situation was. But his very presence had lulled her into a false sense of calm. They had made it through so much that weekend that Salomeh had felt somewhat invincible. She had taught enough Greek tragedies to know that hubris
always
led to an eventual downfall, but she hadn’t applied the knowledge to herself.

Alexi’s gun nudged at her jawline, insistent. “Are you gonna tell me where Tamali is?” he asked.

“I don’t know where he is,” Salomeh said. “I ditched him to come talk to Ms. Kaslinko.”

Alexi grabbed her by the top of the head and pushed down as he shoved the gun up, rattling her teeth. “You must really think I’m an idiot if you expect me to believe that,” he said.

Salomeh bit back her smartass retort, instead giving him a pleading look.

“I know you’re not stupid! You’ve already beat me how many times now?” she asked, placating him. “I wanted to get Yelena back, but Julian had other plans. All he cared about was finding his boss, Henderson, and making him pay for betraying him. So I left.”

She held his gaze, willing him to believe her. Finally he released her, keeping the gun trained on her.

“You sure you don’t have the hots for this kid? Because you’re going through a hell of a lot to find her.”

Salomeh stared at him, wondering if there was any way to get through to him. “Don’t you have a sister or anyone, that you care about?” she asked. “That you would do anything to help?”

“My sister ain’t stupid enough to get mixed up in this business,” he said casually.

Salomeh bit back a frustrated growl. Of course he wouldn’t understand. To him, other people were only commodities, ranked by what purpose they could theoretically serve.

Alexi abruptly grabbed her by the arm, pulling her away from her last hope of escape with a painful wrench.

“All right, you want to see this kid so bad? Let’s go,” he said.

“Where?” she asked reflexively, but she already knew that there was only one place he could be taking her.

“To visit Birdie,” he said as they left the building. “I can’t tell if you’re lying about Tamali, but he definitely can. He’s going to love making you spill what you know. I’ve seen what he can do with a simple butterfly knife. He’s a master.”

Salomeh was amazed at the tone of admiration in his voice, as if he were talking about a sports figure instead of a sociopath.

He slapped her on the ass as he ushered her into the car. “Maybe he’ll let me finish what I started yesterday,” he said. “If there’s anything left after he’s done with you.”

Salomeh considered bolting into the street but then remembered how easily Alexi had shot Ms. Kaslinko, how easily death had seemed to come to so many people in the past two days. She would sit tight, and she would plan. And even though she knew she should rely on herself to get out of this situation, a single phrase repeated itself in her thoughts like a mantra: Julian will come for me.

Chapter Twenty-Five

Julian sat in the bakery nibbling on slice of sweet cake,
revani
, and sipping a coffee. He wasn’t hungry, and he didn’t want to be any more keyed up than he already was, but the elderly woman who owned the shop had taken a shine to him, and he didn’t want to offend her.

“You seem like such a nice boy,” she said in Albanian as she refilled his coffee. She was small and impossibly wrinkled, her back curved with age beneath her simple flowered dress. “Not like some of these idiots around here.”

She looked through the glass door of her shop and directed a withering glance in the direction of Ryli’s.

“I hope you’re not going there,” she said, suddenly stern. She waited for him to indicate that he wasn’t, only continuing after he shook his head. “That is a bad place! You know, one time I saw—”

She stopped and looked around, even though there was no one else in the bakery. When she spoke again, her voice was low.

“Last month, it was very early and I was here opening up the store. Suddenly I heard a screaming like you wouldn’t believe! Oh, it was terrible. And then a girl came running out of that building. A Mexican, maybe, and she was naked and screaming. She ran over to me and started speaking in Spanish, speaking so fast.”

Julian could see the woman was still upset by the situation.

“What was she saying?” he asked.

“I didn’t understand her, but I know she wanted help. I don’t know what they’re doing over there. I see these young girls go in, but only some of them come out. But anyway, I start to bring her into the store, and this big man runs over, and he grabs her and throws her over his shoulder.

“And then he turns to me, and in our own language—
my
own language—he says to me,
‘If you call the cops, I’ll burn your bakery to the ground with you inside.’
”

The woman shook her head sadly as she shuffled back around the counter.

Julian’s blood boiled at the thought of a huge goon threatening this poor old woman’s life and livelihood. Bardhyn and everyone like him had to be stopped.

He checked the time on his phone, the minutes since he had last spoken to Yates seeming like hours.

“I don’t know why I tell you this,” she said. “It’s just such a shame. Even here, in this country where we were promised freedom, these criminals have followed us. It was supposed to be different for us here.”

Julian’s phone rang, and he glanced at the woman. “I have to take this call, but thank you for sharing that with me,” he said. “Hopefully, someone will take care of those thugs soon.”