Snow Wolf (19 page)

"Where do you come from?"

The girl smiled back. "Danville,
Illinois. You ever hear of it?"

"No, I can't say that I have."

"Maybe that ain't such a bad
thing."

Braun grinned back and glanced around the
bar. The private club Lombardi ran as a sideline was doing good business. it
was only eight but the place was buzzing already. Friday night and every young
tough from the docks and visiting sailors were coming in for drinks and a look
at the girls. A record was on in the background, Kay Kyser and his orchestra
playing "On a Slow Boat to China."

He looked back at the girl. "Do me a
favor and tell Vince that Kurt Braun is here."

"Sure."

She walked away and Braun watched her
retreating buttocks wobbling beneath the tight skirt before he looked around
the bar. There were a couple of dozen men in the place, and a handful of the
girls were working the tables. They looked like the hookers they were, all
lipstick and too much makeup and cheap flashy clothes that showed off their
bedroom assets.

It was five minutes later when Vince,
Lombardi's bodyguard, came to the table. Broad and well built, he had a nose
that looked like it had been flattened into his face with a sledgehammer. The
man hadn't a hint of grace in his body and there was a bulge under his left arm
where Braun knew the holstered pistol would be.

Despite the man's appearance, Braun knew
he could kill him with little effort. The two men looked at each other a
moment, like prizefighters sizing each other up, before Vince spoke.

"Carlo is waiting upstairs. He said
to go right on up."

Braun finished his Scotch and stood.

The sign in scratched gold lettering on
the door of the second floor above the club said "Longshoreman's Union. C.
Lombardi-District Chief."

Carlo Lombardi was a small fat Sicilian
in his middle forties with a pencil-thin mustache. As his title suggested, he
ran the Manhattan Lower East Side dockland as if it was his private territory,
and besides the club downstairs he had numerous business interests, including a
share in the profits from three local brothels that serviced visiting merchant
sailors. Despite his harmless appearance, Lombardi had a reputation for
violence, especially with a knife. The only vanity he allowed himself was
occasionally combing his hair to cover the pink scalp that erupted like an
angry Lash through the hair.

A smart hick in the bar had once joked
that Lombardi combed his hair with a wet sponge, and Lombardi had taken
pleasure in waiting, for him in an alleyway a block away and sticking a knife
in his eyeball and twisting till the shit-kicking hick screamed like a stuck
pig. No one slighted Carlo Lombardi and walked away unhurt.

He heard the knock as Vince opened the
door to admit Braun.

The visitor looked small beside
Lombardi's muscular bodyguard, but had a livid red scar on his left cheek and
an air of menace about him that suggested he was equally as dangerous.

"Mr. Braun to see you, Mr.
Lombardi."

"Leave us, Vince."

The door closed and Lombardi came around
slowly from behind his cluttered desk to greet his visitor. The office blinds
were drawn, cutting@ out the view of the East River and docks beyond the
window, but the light was on overhead, and when Lombardi had shaken the man's
hand, he said gruffly, "You wanna drink?"

"Scotch."

Lombardi poured two Scotches from a
chrome cabinet by the window and threw in some ice cubes. He came back and
handed Braun his drink before he sat down.

"You want the story on the
broad?"

"That's why I'm here."

"You mind if I ask a personal
question? What The fuck is up?

You got me watching her for months now.
She does nothin'."

Braun sipped his Scotch, sat back in his
chair and said sharply, "Just give me the story, Lombardi. That's why you
get paid."

Lombardi sighed and reached toward a
drawer and pulled out a large brown envelope, clusters of gold rings on his fat
fingers. As he looked back up he smiled and said, "The new girl
downstairs, you see her?"

"I saw her."

Lombardi smiled and gripped his crotch.
"She's as green as cow shit but she's a fucking rodeo in the hay. She also
likes it rough, know what I mean?"

Braun didn't smile. "Tell me what
you have for me."

That's what I like about you. Mr. Braun.
Everything is click-click. Direct and to the point. Busy man. Places to go,
things to do." Lombardi handed across the envelope. "It's all written
up the way you wanted it. Nothin- much new, except the girl had a
visitor."

"Who?"

"A guy. Stayed one night at the
Carlton, off Lexington Avenue. Name of Massey. Took the girl there too. She
left after a couple of hours. That's all I know from shit." Lombardi
nodded to the envelope. "It's all in there, anyway. Including the
pics."

Braun opened the envelope and examined
the contents briefly, looking at the photographs, then closed it again and put
his hand in his inside pocket, took out another envelope and handed it across.
"For you."

"Amigo, I thank you from the bottom
of my black heart."

Lombardi took the envelope in his fat
hand and looked at Braun. "So what's with the Russian broad?"

"Who says she's Russian?"

"Mister, I've had my guys watching
her for over two months. You think I don't ]know nothing?"

Braun smiled, a cold smile, but didn't
reply. Lombardi's fat hand stuffed the envelope into a drawer and banged it
shut, "OK, you pay the tab so we play it your way. As long as I don't get
no Feds crawling up my ass with a hot poker."

"You won't. Just keep watching
her." Braun finished his drink and stood. "It's been a pleasure doing
business, Lombardi."

"Sure."

Lombardi looked up at his visitor's
scar-red face . "Seeing as I got to keep you happy, you want a girl before
you go? No charge for the hick from Illinois if she's what you want."

This time Braun smiled back. "Why
not?"

It was almost ten when Braun arrived back
at the one-bedroom apartment in Brooklyn. He climbed the stairs to the fourth
floor and let himself in, leaving the lights off as he closed the door. The
curtains were open and he went into the kitchen to the refrigerator and picked
a bottle of beer off the shelf.

As he came back into the front room he
saw the man sitting in the shadows by the window. He wore an overcoat and hat
and smoked a cigarette, a full glass in his hand. In the faint wash of light
from the windows, Braun saw the smile on the man's face. The man said,
"Working late. Greaot-?" Braun let his breath out and said,
"Christ ... I wish you wouldn't do that, Akashin."

The man named Akashin lau-he'd and stood
up. "I helped myself to some of' your excellent Scotch. I hope you don't
mind."

Feliks Akashin was short and stocky. His
fleshy cheek" were limp and shallow, small eyes hard in a weathered face.
It wasn't a handsome face; there was a large dark mole on his left _jaw, tufts
of beard- sprouting from the blemish, and his skin had the texture of"
leather. At forty-eight he was an attache with the Soviet Mission to the United
Nations in New York. In reality he held the rank of major in the KGB. Braun
looked at him.

"You're taking risk coming here. You
could have been followed."

Akashin smiled. "They tried as
usual. And as result] I lost them in the subway. A wily old fox will always
lose the hunter, my dcai- Gregor. Besides, I quite like the thrill of the
chase."

Braun crossed to the window. The lights
of New York dazzled beyond the glass and as he stood there he drank, from the
bottle and smoked his cigarette.

"So why the visit@?"

"You have the report on the
woman?"

Braun raised his eyebrows, a trace of
anger in his voice. "Is that all'?

You could have waited until you picked it
up from the drop tomorrow."

"There's been a directive from
Moscow on the woman in today's diplomatic bag. I need to make a decision
tonight."

Braun looked back, surprise on his face.
"What directive?"

"Let's hear your report first,
Gigegoig."

Braun told him and Akashin scratched the
mole on his jaw and raised his eyebrows.

"Interesting. You trust
Lombardi?"

"I'd sooner trust the devil himself.
Moscow may secretly contribute to his union, but he has his fat fingers in a
lot of pies, most of them ilegal. And that's dangerous."

Akashin shrugged. "We have no choice
but to use him. If the Americans discovered US Mounting Our own surveillance
operation, there would be hell to pay. In this way, we keep every thing at
arm's length. Besides, Lombardi owes us. Without our help he'd still be a union
steward."

"So who do you think this man Massey
might be?"

Akashin Put down his glass. For a long
time he seemed to have difficulty making up his mind about something, then he
said, "Who knows" The photographs Lombardi's men took are not the
best quality, amateurish really, but they may help. I'll have our people check
and see if any of our station officers recognize him."

'."And in the meantime'!"

"in the meantime you tell Lombardi
you want the woman watched more closely. A twenty-four-hour operation. And tell
him you may have a job for him soon that will pay well."

Akashin grinned. "I'm sure Lombardi
will appreciate that."

"What sort of job?"

Akashin looked across and smiled.
"You know Moscow doesn't like it when the Americans slight us, Gregor. We
need to let them know they can't make fools of us."

"Is she that important""

"No, but it's a question of
principle."

"So what does Lombardi have to
do,?" Arkashin said, "When the time is right we're going to take the
girl back to Moscow. We'll need Lombardi to kidnap her. You think he'll do
it?"

" He'll do anything you tell him for
money. But taking her back to Moscow is going to be difficult."

Akashin put down his glass and Stubbed
out his cigarette.

Lombardi controls the docks. Getting her
on board the Soviet vessel shouldn't be difficult. But we have another option
Should it prove impossible."

"And what's that'.)"

"A repeat performance of the one you
carried out so well in Switzerland." Arkashin smiled. "You kill
her."

February 1st-22nd 1953

New Hampshire.

She saw the lake and the wooden house as
they came around the bend in the narrow private road. There was snow on the
mountains in the distance and the forested scenery below looked remarkably wild
and beautiful, like a Russian landscape.

When Stanski halted the car, Massey
opened the door for her and took her suitcase. "Let's get you settled in,
then I'll fill you in on what happens next."

Anna looked out at the water and the
forest landscape and said to Stanski, "Jake said it was beautiful here,
but I never expected it would look like a part of Russia."

Stanski smiled. "There used to be
parts around here where Russian was spoken. Small communities of fur trappers
and hunters mostly, who came over in the last century. I guess the scenery made
them feel at home."

He took them inside and showed Anna to a
small bedroom upstairs.

"This is your room. It's a bit
basic, I'm afraid, but it's warm and reasonably comfortable. When you've
finished unpacking I'll be downstairs."

She noticed Stanski look at her, his eyes
faintly lingering on her face a moment, and then he left. There was a single
bed and a chair and the window overlooked the lake. Someone had left some
flowers in a vase by the window and fresh towels beside an enamel water jug and
basin on a stand in the corner. When she had unpacked and washed she went back
downstairs and found Massey and Stanski sitting at the pinewood table drinking
coffee.

Stanski said, "Sit down, Anna."

She sat and Stanski poured her coffee.
She studied his face when he wasn't looking. It was neither handsome nor
unattractive, but there was a look in his eyes she had noticed when she first
met him, a look like something wasn't right about the man, and there was a
faint smile at the corners of his mouth that suggested he found life oddly
amusing.

Now he looked across at her and sat. The
smile was gone from his face as he said, "First things first. You're
completely sure you know what you're doing?"

"I wouldn't have come here if I
wasn't."

"Jake told you that you might have
to face dangers. But are you certain you're prepared to face them?"

She looked at Stanski steadily.
"Yes."

"Hear there are some ground rules I
want you to understand that apply as long as you're here. About the mission,
you don't talk to anyone you meet apart from us here. Did Jake explain about
Vassily?"