Henry Wood Perception (32 page)

Henry wanted to scream, What have you done with Celine? but this was Jack’s show. He was writing the script. “It’s pretty late, Jack. I appreciate you confirming what I suspected, but I'm quite sure you're about to vanish like a morning mist.” Henry thought he would like the comparison. He did.

Jack smiled, knowing he had this American right where he wanted him. “There is something you don’t know. I have your sweet little secretary here. She is quite the looker.”

Now Henry was on. “You what?!” he screamed with the anger he had been holding in all night. “You better not do anything to her, or I will cut…”

“Calm down, Mr. Wood. I've no intention of causing her any harm unless you decide not to cooperate.”

This was exactly what Henry had been expecting, but he didn’t want Jack knowing he was one step ahead of him. “Cooperate how?”

“There are some loose ends which I need to clean up. You have a couple of friends, Charles Hudson and Richard Bessemer, who I can’t seem to track down. I simply need you to help me find them, and she is free to go.”

Henry looked at his watch. It was a little after 5:00 a.m., and the city was just waking up. “I imagine they are both at home. I’m sure you have their addresses. What do you need me for?”

“I need you to make a call and have them meet me at the following address.” He read the address, and Henry wrote it down. Henry demanded he be able to speak with Celine, but Jack declined. Another feeble attempt to make demands was dismissed, which was exactly what Henry expected. Jack was playing his part. He held most of the cards, but Henry knew he thought he held all the cards. He didn’t.

“One more thing, Mr. Wood. I want you to place the calls from my place. Be there in 30 minutes. Do I need to tell you what will happen if you call the cops?”

“I’ll be there.”

The phone went dead. Henry had solved one of his cases but wondered if he would ever get to tell the client. There were a few tricks up his sleeve, but he couldn’t be sure they would be enough.

CHAPTER EIGHTY FOUR

Henry followed Bobby through the tunnels, trusting he knew where they were going. Lawrence stayed with William and was told to let Mike know what was going on if he called. Henry had his revolver in his waist band and was clutching his notebook as they emerged from the building. He wasn’t immediately sure where they were, so he tried to get his bearings.

The city was starting to wake up, and the night sky had given way to an orange glow. Bobby flagged down a cab.

***

Jack and Pytor hadn’t spoken much the last hour. Jack was furious when he didn’t find Richard at home. He had told Pytor to pull over so he could make a call. Pytor had stayed in the car. Had he heard the conversation he might have taken over the operation then and there. Jack was starting to lose it and his thinking and logic were failing him. Pytor realized it now that they were stuck in traffic. An accident had things creeping along and it was apparent that they would not be back to the brownstone in 30 minutes. His mind was racing and he just kept screaming at the cars. Pytor was nearing the end of his patience.

***

Mike hung up the pay phone and waited. Lawrence had given him a quick rundown of the call from Jack and relayed Henry’s message: Don’t move; we are coming to you.

As he stood there, Mike’s stomach churned. Even though the crime scene was pretty well controlled, the CIA had left, and all the brass were long gone, Mike still didn’t feel good about sneaking away from the scene. If the killer was in one of these buildings, he needed to call in back-up. Mike trusted Henry, though, so he waited.

In the cab Henry explained his plan. “Bobby, I need you to do something for me. Okay?”

“Sure…anything for Celine.”

Henry tore out a piece of paper, “Here, take this. It’s the names of the two FBI guys who came to see me. It’s pretty early, so they may not be in yet, but someone should answer.”

“What do I tell them?”

“Tell them, as briefly as possible, what is going on. They already suspect the CIA was playing around in their sandbox and will be anxious to learn everything. Don’t let them get you sidetracked with too many details. Just tell them that a CIA agent is actually a spy for the Russians and give them the address. I'll stall, so they can ride in and save the day.”

“I understand, but it sounds risky if they come in guns blazing.”

“As long as they secure the building, I'm pretty sure I'll be okay. Jack isn’t stupid; he’ll know the only chance to make it out is if our State Department works a deal. I think he’ll give up once he’s outnumbered.”

“You think?”

“It’s all I’ve got for a plan. If it doesn’t work, you’ll have a cat.”

Bobby didn’t feel much like laughing, but he did manage a smile. The cab pulled up to the pay phone. Mike was standing there waiting.

“Mike, thanks for doing this. Did you talk to Lawrence?”

“Yes, he said to wait. I don’t like to wait. We need to call in back-up now.”

“We will. Bobby is going to call in the Calvary while you watch my back.”

Mike took out his gun and checked it. “I’m ready.”

Henry walked down the block to the address Jack had given him. “Mike, you stay here. If you hear any shots, come save my butt; otherwise, just keep an eye open for the Feds.”

“The Feds?! I thought you were calling in my boys. Henry…” Mike started to object.

“Mike, we don’t have time, and you’ll have to trust me on this one. Now stay out of sight. I’m going in. I'll try to look out the window or give you a signal, but it may be hard. If I can, I'll try to step in front of the light to let you know Celine is okay. If I stay for a moment, then it is good. If it's a short flash, then we’ve got trouble.”

Mike looked across the street. There was the dim light on the curtains, but it was fading with the coming day. “You better go then. Your signal won’t work for much longer.”

Henry hurried across the street. Nobody looked out of the window, so he knew Mike hadn’t been spotted. This was a small measure of comfort. He climbed the steps, let out a heavy breath, and rapped the knocker twice. There was a scuffle from inside, and a door slammed shut. The light went out. That is strange, Henry thought.

The door opened slowly. A voice said, “Who is it?”

Henry hadn’t expected anyone other than Jack; still, he should have been expected. Spies were so paranoid. “It’s Henry Wood. Your boss called and told me to meet him here.”

The door moved another foot, and Henry slipped in. He found himself standing face to face with a very serious looking man. His ribs felt the gun and Henry instinctively raised his hands. The man spun him around and found Henry’s gun. He was told to go sit down and he did. There wasn’t any sign of Jack. Something was wrong. “Where’s Celine?”

The man nodded to the back then, seeing no harm, stood up and opened the door to the bedroom. Celine’s body lay with her legs tied to the bed. Henry lurched forward and yelled, “Celine!” thinking she was dead.

She moaned and woke up, not really sure where she was.

Bobby had just hung up at the phone booth. The FBI hadn’t heard of an Agent Anderson or Brooks, and they were none too happy about getting a prank call.

CHAPTER EIGHTY FIVE

Oleg gave a casual wave to Henry, indicating it was okay for him to go to her. He was not at all concerned about this American detective. He had his gun, but, even if he didn't, Henry was no match for his skill.

Henry's eyes adjusted to the dim light and saw the plate on the table. Her arms were free. She was sitting up in the tiny bed, both legs bound together, holding her arms out to him. He wrapped his arms around her, and she started to sob but then stopped. She had done enough crying. "I'm so glad you're here. The guy I went out with last night, he put something over my mouth in the car, and I woke up here."

"Yes, I know. He's using you for leverage. Don't worry, I'll get you out of here." Henry reassured her though he wondered what he had walked into.

Oleg stood at the door watching the embrace, then cleared his throat. Henry and Celine looked at him, the light from the tiny lamp barely lighting up his face but easily casting a glint off the knife in his right hand. He flipped it so the tip of the blade was in his hand. Before either of them could react, he threw it between their two faces. It stuck with a thud in the headboard. "Cut her loose," he said with a thick Russian accent, no longer pretending to be local. He was ready to be done with this whole mission and to get home and be undead.

Celine looked at Henry as he pulled the knife from the headboard. Her fear seemed to be replaced with a touch of impressed. Henry thought it was a good throw, too, but also got the message. This guy was not to be trifled with at all. Henry was glad he had the cavalry on the way. He hoped they would get there soon.

Henry cut the ropes and helped Celine swing her legs to the floor. She was tired and sore, and her muscles were not behaving at all. She put her arm around his shoulder, and he helped her to stand. Henry walked her to the doorway and extended the knife, handle first, towards Oleg. Oleg took it, knowing he had made his point.

"May I use the bathroom?" she asked feebly as she started to get her legs under her.

Oleg nodded and pointed to the open bathroom door. "You stay here." He pointed to Henry with the knife.

CHAPTER EIGHTY SIX

The sound of running water from the bathroom went mostly unnoticed by Henry and Oleg. The table between them held only the lamp. Henry looked into his eyes, searching for humanity, but finding only vacant indifference.

Oleg was patient. He liked it when others sized him up, as they always underestimated him. “So you have come to rescue your girlfriend?”

“She’s my secretary…and yes. Who are you exactly?”

“My name is unimportant, but you may call me anything you like. Do you think you can take her from me?”

“Listen Katherine, I don’t know who you are, or why you had Celine tied up, but I see no reason not to let her go. We can settle this issue, whatever it is, like men.”

Oleg laughed, “You called me Katherine; this is a woman’s name. You think you can make me angry? Perhaps I'll slip up and give you chance to get upper hand? I said you could call me anything you wanted and I'm a man of my word.” His smile was sly and knowing.

“How about I call you Colonel? You seem like you’ve had some military training.”

Oleg nodded and slid the lamp to the edge of the table, so as to get a better look at Henry. “You are a perceptive man. A funny man too. I like that. I'll not insult you with lies. Your chances of living to see another morning aren’t very good. The same goes for the woman.”

Henry sensed that a game was afoot, though he didn’t know the rules. The man across the table was working up to something and he had little choice but to let him. The longer he talked, the more likely the FBI would arrive to save them. Henry wondered where Jack was though; it didn’t make sense for him to not be here.

“Where is Jack? He told me he wanted my help. He said he would let Celine go. He is expecting us to be alive when he arrives.”

Oleg scoffed. “He is an idiot. He has been in your country too long and grown soft. If I decide to kill you, and he objects, well then he will have another problem.”

Henry decided to push him a little more. “He’s the boss. It’s his show and you do what he says.”

Oleg waved his finger, “Nice try Mr. Wood, but I care too little about him, to be baited into an uncontrolled rage. That was your plan, was it not? Try to get me off balance, maybe find an opening?”

“Yes it was.” Henry said, seeing no reason to lie.

Oleg roared again. “I like you Mr. Wood. You have the heart of a soldier. I think it's only fair of me to give you a choice.” He pulled out Henry’s revolver and smacked it down on the table. He laid the knife down so that it too was half way between them.

The car pulled up outside the building and Pytor stared straight head, his knuckles white on the wheel. Jack slammed the magazine back into his Markov PM. He had insisted Pytor get him one, as he was tired of the stupid American guns. “You stay here, keep the motor running. I won’t be long.” Pytor growled, “Yes sir.”

Jack enjoyed his power. Pytor reminded him of Gilbert. He hated Gilbert and shooting him hadn’t quelled his anger over the years of condescension. He walked around the car, not noticing the two men twenty meters away. He leaned his head in the window, “You got a smoke?”

Pytor shook his head, “No, I quit.”

Jack shrugged and turned to head inside. Pytor took his pack out of his pocket and lit up as he watched the arrogant bastard walk up the stairs.

The water in the bathroom stopped running.

Oleg said, “I’ll give you a choice Mr. Wood; the knife or the gun.”

The door to the bathroom opened up and Celine came out. Oleg turned his head slightly to see her out of the corner of his eye, expecting his adversary to make a move for the gun. Henry did make a move, but it wasn’t what Oleg expected.

CHAPTER EIGHTY SEVEN