Noble Intentions: Season Two (Episodes 6-10) (34 page)

“Listen to my voice. You know who I am.”

Clarissa searched her mind, going over all the points she thought were important on the papers that Sinclair had sent to her. Nothing about a man came to mind. Who was this guy? Her partner in the field? Her partner in bed?

“I can’t tell,” she said. “Let me go and come over here.”

“Tell me what you are doing out here first.”

“I’m working.”

“I would know if you were working.”

Partner in the field.

“No, you wouldn’t. This is special and only involves me.”

The wind increased and so did his voice. “Why are you lying to me?”

She heard a clunking sound against the tree, to her left. He was armed. And possibly left handed. Again, no recollection of a fact like that from the documents.

He let go of her. She looked at the ground, at his shadow. It moved to the right. His left hand was blocked by the tree. She couldn’t tell if he held it up or down or out.

She rolled to the right to face him, keeping her right arm behind her. The snow on the ground and the snow in the sky and the snow in between created a false daylight effect. She could see the man clearly and he could see her. The recognition she expected him to have wasn’t there. She recognized him, though. It was the man from earlier. The man from outside Anastasiya’s apartment. She hadn’t lost him after all.

His eyes traveled back and forth between hers. He leaned back. Said, “Who are you?”

“It’s me.”

“No, it’s not. Tell me who you are.” He stepped to the side. The tree no longer shielded his left arm. It hung down, the gun aimed at the ground. He started to lift it into the air.

“It’s Anastasiya.”

“Then who am I?” The man continued to lift the gun.

Clarissa reached for his face with her left hand. She faked a confused and hurt look. She leaned forward and to the left, as if going in for a kiss. It had the effect she desired. His left hand started to drop. She brought her right hand out from behind. Fired a single shot. She didn’t want him dead. She wanted answers. She had aimed low and sent the bullet into the side of his leg, above the knee, away from the femoral artery.

He dropped his gun. Fell to the ground. Clutched his leg. The wind whipped his cries around her in all directions.

She kneeled down. Grabbed his gun. Placed hers to his head.

“Who are you?” she said.

“Ivashov.”

“Who do you work for?”

He looked up at her. “Same people you do.” He shook his head. “Same people Anastasiya does.”

Clarissa stared at him, waiting for him to name the organization. She pulled the gun away from his face.

Instead, he said, “Where is she?”

“Who’s side are you on?”

“What?”

“It’s a simple question. Who’s side are you on?”

“Where is Anastasiya? Tell me.”

“United States. Detained.”

He shook his head. Brought his hands to his face. Yelled into his gloves.

“Do you work for Ivanov?” Clarissa said.

“No. I’m against Ivanov.”

“Why did you corner me like this?”

“I thought…” He let his hands drop to side and he lifted his head an inch or two out of the snow. “I thought that maybe they had turned her. Why else would she have run from me this afternoon? Now I see it wasn’t her. It was you. And you are telling me they have her detained.”

She aimed the gun at his head again. “Who’s side is she on?”

“She’s the same as me. The people we work for want Ivanov taken out.”

“That’s what I’m here for.”

He fell back into the snow. The ground around his knee had turned dark red.

Clarissa pulled up her pant leg and grabbed the hidden knife. She opened her jacket and lifted her sweater. Cut a large strip from her undershirt. She used the fabric to bandage the wound.

She stood and took a few steps back.

“Are you just going to leave me here?” he said. “I’ll freeze to death.”

“Do you think you can make it a thousand feet?”

“Why?”

“I’m going to meet someone. We are going to discuss our plans to take down Ivanov. I can take you there and we can see about getting you help.”

He stuck out his right hand. Clarissa reached out and grabbed it. She leaned back. Helped him to his feet.

Instead of standing straight up, he bull rushed her. He had at least seventy pounds on her. Tall and athletic. She was no match for his large frame and the momentum he had built up. She fell to the ground. The gun she held in her hand was no longer there. Only snow that melted against her touch.

He rose up above her and swung a fist toward her face.

She dodged her head to the left. The fist still connected, but at far less force and in a far less damaging place than if he had been on target. She gave the impression that the blow had been successful. She closed her eyes and relaxed into the snow. She felt him lift off of her. He hobbled through the snow. She looked back and saw him heading for the gun that had been in her hand. He reached down to pick it up.

Think fast. Act faster.

She had tossed his gun behind them. She still had one of her pistols holstered behind her back, but there was no way she could get to it in time. She lifted her left knee and brought her ankle to her waist. Reached under her pant leg and grabbed the second tactical knife. She cradled the handle in her palm, and let the blade slip inside the arm of her coat.

He trudged over to her, dragging his left leg. He stopped beside her. Looked down at her. A maniacal look spread across his face. He said, “I lied.”

Clarissa spoke softly. “I need to tell you something.”

He shook his head slightly. Leaned forward. “What?”

“I need to tell you something.”

His lips thinned. He hovered over her.

“It’s about Anastasiya,” she said.

“What about her?”

“This,” she said. The motion was quick and fluid and decisive. She flipped the blade in her hand. Her right arm traveled straight up. The point of the blade entered the lower left portion of his neck. It sunk in three or four inches. Clarissa whipped her body to her right. The motion caused the blade to rip the man’s neck open. Blood gushed and sprayed over her and the virgin snow.

He dropped the gun. Grabbed his neck. His eyes rolled back in his head and he fell forward, face first into the snow. Crimson fluid spread along the pits and peaks their violent dance had created in the snow like a Hawaiian lava flow.

Clarissa felt his wrists for a pulse. Found none. She hunted around and grabbed all the weapons in sight. And then she ran as fast as she could through the ever deepening snow. She crossed the bridge and made her way to Jack’s hotel.

10

The banging on the door was loud and hard and frantic.

Jack rushed across the room and opened it without first looking through the peep hole. The sight before him doubled his heart rate.

“Clarissa,” he said. “What the hell happened to you?”

The woman stood before him covered in blood. Her skin, her clothes, her shoes. Nothing was spared.

“Are you OK?” he asked. “Are you hurt?”

“It’s not mine,” she said.

Jack pulled her into the room.

“I was followed,” she said. “Same guy from this afternoon. He followed me over here. We were in the Red Square. He was closing in on me. I had an opportunity and I ducked behind a tree. He found me. He was looking for Anastasiya and knew her well enough to know that I wasn’t her.”

Jasmine handed Clarissa three wet towels and took her coat off of her.

Clarissa continued. “I shot him in the knee. He said he was against Ivanov. I was going to bring him here and let you question him. Then he attacked. I managed to get him with a knife.”

“Where is he?” Jack said while trying to process the information Clarissa had thrown at him. “Did he follow you over?”

“He’s dead.”

“Where?”

“Red Square.”

Jack looked at Jasmine. “Should we clean this up?”

“Did anyone see you, Clarissa?” Jasmine said.

“No, not that I know of.”

“I can reach out to Frank and see what he wants to do,” Jasmine said.

“No,” Jack said. “Not yet. Let’s wait for her to calm down and go over this again.”

Jasmine helped Clarissa to the bathroom and then brought her fresh clothes.

“She’s going to get washed up,” Jasmine said.

Jack nodded. “Someone knew Anastasiya was coming home.”

“I’m sure they figured she would, Jack. After what happened in Iowa, why would she stay in the States?”

“What if someone is waiting for that guy?”

“Maybe he was acting on his own. Wait for her to get out of the shower. She’ll have calmed down and can tell us what happened.”

Jack started a pot of coffee and grabbed boxes with leftovers from the mini fridge. He heated the food in the microwave when he heard the shower cut off.

Clarissa stepped out of the bathroom wearing a pair of blue sweatpants and a matching sweatshirt. She took a seat at the table.

Jack placed a cup of coffee and a plate of food in front of her.

She pushed the food away and took a sip of coffee.

“Go over this again, Clarissa,” he said. “Starting from earlier today when the man saw you outside her apartment building.”

Clarissa recounted the entire day. The weapons delivery. The excursion through the center of Moscow. Being spotted by the man. The extra documents she received on the woman she was impersonating. She went over every step she took after she left the hotel. Where she saw the man. When she noticed him following her. What he said when he grabbed her. The look on his face when she stuck his neck with the knife.

“What’s your gut say?” Jasmine said. “Did he act alone or did someone know he was out there?”

“He knew that woman as more than a partner in the field. I sense that she betrayed him or his beliefs. He said he was going to kill her at her apartment. He was going to kill her after she left the hotel.” She paused. “After I left the hotel.”

“He acted alone,” Jack said. “Ivanov doesn’t work this way. He’d want to see Anastasiya first. Put fear into her. Then kill her.”

“Why? Why not just kill her?” Jasmine asked.

“Why didn’t he just kill me? He dragged it out. Court. Prison. Sticking me in a cell with a psycho who tried to kill me. It’s all a game to him.”

Jasmine shrugged. “It’s possible, but I still think he might have had something to do with it.”

“Well if he doesn’t know about this we can use it to our advantage.”

“How’s that?” Jasmine said.

“It’s her in. Her way to get to him.” He looked at Clarissa. “Did you get the man’s name?”

“Yeah. Ivashov.”

Jack gestured to Jasmine. “Get Frank to check that name against all known agents in the Russian Federal Security Service.” He looked back to Clarissa. “How old was he?”

“Probably around your age.”

“OK, this is what we are going to do. You are going to make contact with Ivanov through the phone. You are going to tell him that Ivashov attacked you and he said that the attack was on Ivanov’s orders.”

“OK.”

“And then you are going to tell him you want a meeting with him. You have some information for him, and you want information from him. It has to be a public place. No matter how much he protests that he didn’t order a hit on you, it has to be public. We can’t take a chance on that.”

“Are we going to take him out at the meeting?” Clarissa asked.

“That depends. It depends on where and when he agrees to meet you. Once we know that I can plan the hit.”

Jasmine came back into the room. “Catch me up.”

“What did Frank say?”

“He’s looking into it. Will have a full report for us by daylight.”

“We’re going to get a public meeting with Ivanov arranged.”

Jasmine said, “Will he go for that?”

“We can only hope.”

11

Bear scanned 74th street. He was just north of Broadway and the traffic was one way, heading north. Cross under Roosevelt and to the other side of Broadway, and it was one way, heading south. The view from the shoe store was good enough. He saw every car that passed by the diner. In fifteen minutes he counted six Mercedes. None white. None stopped.

Bear had eaten at the diner before. All you can eat Mediterranean cuisine. Whether or not the old man showed up, Bear was going to get lunch there.

“Why do they call this area Queens?” Pierre asked.

Bear didn’t answer. Didn’t turn to look at the Frenchman.

“Think he’ll show?”

Bear shrugged. “If he doesn’t, we start over.”

“And if he does?”

“We observe.”

“Do we strike?”

“Maybe.”

“Maybe?”

Bear cast a quick glance toward Pierre. He exhaled heavily, then said, “It has to be done right. We can’t just walk up and take him out. Too many people know him. Chances are if he shows up today and eats at that restaurant, then he eats there a lot. That means he probably sends a lot of people there. Knows the people that work there. They probably like him. If we go in there and shoot him, they’ll definitely give the cops our description. Hell, someone in there probably knows me. The other thing is, you don’t know who is in there. Who’s working and who’s eating? There could be someone armed in there. They see us, maybe we get a shot off, maybe we don’t. But if we don’t see someone, and they are armed, and they see us, then we’re as good as dead.”

“I see your point.”

“We don’t have anyone to clean this up for us, Pierre. Yeah, we’re doing Frank a favor, but we don’t work for him. He’s only going to offer us as much help as he wants to give. And based on my past history with him, that ain’t all that much.”

Pierre didn’t reply.

“If the old man shows today, then that means he’ll probably show tomorrow. And after he leaves today, we can go in. Scout the place. Get a read on the people in there. We can look at these buildings. Maybe tonight you’ll head out here and climb on top one of those buildings and sleep under the stars with a rifle next to you. That apartment building next door might make a good spot. Five stories high. Get on top, you got a great shot.”