The Cold Edge (21 page)

Anything else, he thought. He would need the guns. No. Should be good. While he was there, he relieved himself on the side of the road, then took a bottle of water from the trunk before closing it. He got back into the car, turned around, and drove back toward the main road, running the GPS location through his mind again. Without all those millions in Alexandrite gems lingering around, he felt a lot better. Now he could go have a discussion with that little Russian troll and see why he had devised such an elaborate scheme involving Jake.

●

Anna Schult was conflicted. She knew that her departure from Jake had not gone as smoothly as it could have, considering their abrupt split at the Borlange airport. She had fought back tears on the short flight to Stockholm, during the short layover there, and again during the one-hour flight from Stockholm to Oslo. Her emotions were all over the place, and that bothered her. Why couldn't she just get over it? Jake was always intense, especially when he was working on a case. And she had to cut him some slack, since he had also not had a drink in days. She could only imagine how that was affecting him.

Now, Anna and Kjersti Nilsen wandered along the concourse after just having gotten off the plane.

“Are you all right?” Kjersti asked her.

“Yeah.”

“You're wondering about Jake.”

Anna stopped against a concourse wall. “I know he thinks he can handle almost anything on his own. And he has in the past. You'd be amazed at the things I've seen him do, the adversity he's overcome so many times.”

“But?”

“I'm afraid. Afraid he might go too far this time.”

“Why do you say that?”

They started walking again, this time slower, at their pace and not that of commuters rushing for the baggage claim.

Anna said, “This colonel friend of his. They go way back. Decades. If he deceived Jake, for whatever reason, it will throw Jake into a. . .funk of introspection. He'll start to question everything. He might even start—” She stopped herself, not wanting to think those thoughts.

“Drinking?” Kjersti finished.

“Yeah.” Her head looked toward the ground at the strange pattern of ceramic tiles in front of her.

Kjersti took Anna's hand and said, “Jake will be fine. I've heard nothing but good things about him. He will always do the right thing.”

That was true. Jake had always done the right thing, even if it wasn't popular or easy.

“Here we go,” Kjersti said, her head nodding toward an approaching man.

The two of them stopped a few feet from the tall, well-dressed man who Kjersti introduced as Thom Hagen, an officer with the Norwegian Intelligence Service.

“Thom works mostly out of Oslo,” Kjersti explained.

The man was nearly expressionless as Anna introduced herself. All he said was that he had a car just outside. He turned and led the way.

“A bit exuberant,” Anna whispered to Kjersti, who held back a laugh.

They piled into a dark Volvo sedan, Anna in the back and Kjersti in the front passenger seat.

Kjersti said something in Norwegian to the driver.

“Hey. No fair,” Anna said. “Don't make me pull out my Tyrolean.”

Kjersti laughed. “I'm sorry. I just asked him how his wife and kids were.”

In French, Anna said to Kjersti. “I thought he might be gay.”

Hagen looked at Anna in the rearview mirror. Still no significant emotion. “I also speak French,” he said in that language.

“I guessed that,” Anna said. “Just seeing if I could pull a smile out of you.” She waited and then mumbled, “Guess not.”

“Changing the subject,” Kjersti said to her colleague, “what's going on?”

He briefed the both of them as they drove from the civilian commercial side of Oslo airport to the Gardermoen Air Station across the runways.

“The American scientists are where?” Kjersti asked.

“The operations building.”

Anna chimed in. “You mentioned an Agency officer was with Colonel Reed. Where are they?”

The NIS officer went through the secure gate flashing his ID, and then slowly drove toward the operations building.

Finally, he said, “You'll get briefed in a moment on the operation.”

Anna leaned back in her seat. Dickhead. She guessed she and Kjersti could brief this guy a lot more informatively than the other way around, considering what Jake had told them just before he dropped them at the airport that morning. In fact, if anyone should be lead on this case it was Interpol.

They got to the operations building, parked, and piled out, the NIS man walking in front of them.

Kjersti slowed Anna with her hand and whispered. “I know you'd like to strangle him. But he has small children and a good wife.”

“I feel sorry for them.”

“He's a good guy,” Kjersti informed her. “Just no personality.”

“Remember what we discussed?” Anna said.

“I do. Jake still has the virus.”

Anna smiled and mouthed the word ‘thanks' as they got to the door.

Their backpacks were checked and then they were brought through a security door to a conference room, which consisted of a large wooden table with chairs around two sides. A large LCD screen was mounted on the wall at one end. The three of them took the only empty seats.

A tall black man, a U.S. Army colonel in woodland digital camo, stood at the head of the table. He introduced his team of scientists and then dimmed the lights, clicked a remote, and went into his briefing on the flu virus, possible modifications, and the projected results of exposure and dispersal. While he talked in the semi-darkness, Anna thought about what Jake had told them and shown them. She could stop all of this if she wanted, but then she guessed they would either not believe her or, perhaps worse, believe her and then stop helping them and Jake would be in trouble.

Next, the Army colonel sat down and their NIS escort stood and went to the head of the table. He sequenced the PowerPoint to another file and a photo of a man appeared.

“This is Victor Petrova,” Hagen said. He went on to give background information about the man, including what he currently controlled in the criminal world. Even if the man was not trying to acquire and sell a deadly virus, and this was only about precious gems, this man had to be stopped. For who knew what he would buy with the money he got from the gems.

Hagen then went through a sequence of photos of men and women that were part of Petrova's organization.

“Hold it,” Kjersti said. “Go back one.”

The NIS officer did what she said, returning to the previous slide.

“He's dead,” she said.

“Are you sure?” Hagen checked his notes.

“Dead certain. Anna stabbed him in the neck last night on the train.”

A man and woman held back laughter across the table from them. They were a strange pair. A man at least six four, and a woman half his height, her head barely above the table. They were the only two the Army colonel had not introduced.

Anna raised her hands in protest. “Hey, he was trying to kill us.”

Hagen scribbled something in his note pad and then continued with the PowerPoint show.

Another familiar face appeared and Kjersti stopped the NIS man again. “He was with the guy Anna killed.”

“But he's alive?” Hagen asked.

“Kind of. Jake Adams interrogated him with great prejudice last night. He probably wished he was dead.”

Anna squeezed down on Kjersti's leg.

“Yeah, he's alive,” Kjersti added.

The NIS officer stopped and the large man across the table got up and took the remote from Hagen. He opened a new file, showing first a little man.

“For those of you who don't know, I'm Jimmy McLean with MI6,” the man said, his Scottish accent flowing freely. “And that's my colleague, Velda Crane.”

The little woman waved around the table.

“The man on the screen is a low-level Scottish thief named Gary Dixon. He's been an MI-5 informant for years. Velda and I were working undercover for MI-5 when we discovered something was going down in Norway. Dixon wouldn't tell us what, and we suspected that was because he really didn't know. But then we coordinated our efforts with the Americans and the Norwegians and also followed Dixon to Oslo. It was apparent that something was going down.”

McLean went through a long sequence of photos, mostly of little people in Scotland and then from the last few days in Oslo.

Anna raised her hand and said, “What do they have to do with Victor Petrova?”

“They're all thick as thieves together,” Jimmy explained. “We suspect Petrova will use these people to spread the virus around the world.”

Kjersti broke in now. “Not to actually spread the virus, though. I'm guessing Petrova has some kind of monetary incentive—like international blackmail. He doesn't seem like a terrorist without a Euro symbol.”

“Good point,” Jimmy said. “We discussed that at great length last night and came to the same conclusion.” He flipped to the next photo. “This is Colonel Reed, a former American Air Force officer and with the old CIA and the new Agency. He was hired by Petrova to collect the virus in the Arctic. Reed, in turn, hired this man.” A photo of Jake Adams filled the screen.

Anna took a deep breath as she watched the photo of Jake. He was standing in Tiananmen Square in Beijing, China. He was so handsome, she thought.

“I'm sure most of you know of Jake Adams,” Jimmy said. He went on to brief the others about Jake's career. When he was done, he said, “That pretty much brings us up to date. Oh, yeah.” He went to the next screen and added, “This is Agency officer Toni Contardo. She is running the operation here in Norway now; however, she is currently with Colonel Reed following Victor Petrova and will brief us by phone in a moment. But first we need to be briefed by the two of you.” Jimmy McLean lay his right hand, palm up, out toward Anna and Kjersti.

When Anna saw Toni's picture, she couldn't believe it. Jake's former lover was running the op. A woman who had haunted her relationship with Jake for two years.

“You all right?” Kjersti asked.

“Yes. If fine. Could you brief them?”

Kjersti nodded and got up. While she ran through everything that had happened to the three of them over the past few days, Anna stared at the last picture that remained on the huge screen. Damn it. It had to be a beautiful photo of Toni also. Why couldn't it be one with the woman's hair all messed up?

Travel by car was Jake's favorite form. He had near-complete control over his actions and was not dependent on others. It also allowed him to clear his mind and run everything through, including possible scenarios. Traveling alone was even more cleansing, since he wasn't required to keep up inane banter. It wasn't that he was sick of traveling with Anna and Kjersti. They were both great conversationalists and comfortable associates. Christ, what was the matter with him? Now he was thinking of Anna as an associate? She was much more than that. He knew he loved her, even though he had a hard time bringing the words to his lips first. Perhaps he should be more responsive and feeling. He even knew in his heart that he had been a royal pain in the ass the last few months. And why? Hell, he was no shrink. Didn't believe in them. If a man couldn't grow a set and straighten himself out, then he didn't deserve to take up space on this planet. Suck it up. That had always been his mantra. You drink too much; stop the damn drinking. You gain too much weight? Don't eat so damn much and get the hell off the sofa. Easy to think and easy to say, but not always that easy in practice, he knew. Maybe part of a man questioned if he should live anymore. What was the point? Did he have a purpose on Earth? Without a case to work over the past three months, Jake had fallen into that questioning mode. Wondering if he had anything else to give society. He was tired of playing the game of life. Exhausted by living life on the cold edge of reality. He didn't even want to consider how many people had died by his hands. And why? Because someone had determined them to be the enemy. Not someone. Society. But still. . .what kind of man loses count of how many people he has killed? Was the number too high? Was it too much for his conscience to consider?

He contemplated all of these things as he drove through Hamar, Norway and on to Lillehammer. He had never been to this Olympic site, but had heard great things from Anna and seen her photos of her Olympic experience on the Austrian Biathlon Team. The two of them had talked about going to Lillehammer on vacation, but never had. When you live in Austria, the skiing capital of the world, it's hard to justify going anywhere else, especially an inferior site, just to do the same thing.

When he finally got to Lillehammer, he was reminded somewhat of Austria, although the surrounding mountains were nowhere near as dramatic. Still, the place had its own charm. It was late afternoon.

He went directly to downtown and pulled over to the curb in front of a restaurant. Food. That's what he needed.

As he ate a late lunch and early dinner, he watched people pass by outside. When he saw a little person shuffling along, his mind immediately went to the recent photo of Victor Petrova. But it wasn't him. This man was younger and had blond hair spiked up by jell. He finished his meal and drank a cup of coffee. Then he saw another little person walk past. This one, a bald man, was mumbling something aloud, just like the first one had. He didn't want it too, but his mind considered the possibility that a circus was in town.

After dinner, Jake drove to the outskirts of town, near the Olympic ski jump, and paid for a room at a small B&B with cash. He still had plenty left from cash advances at ATMs along the way in Sweden. He couldn't use any cards from now on, though. All cash.

He lay down on his bed and rested, knowing he would be up late that night. He crashed immediately into a deep sleep.

Hours later, he startled awake, coming out of a dream. He had dreamt of he and Anna together in a cabin in the Tyrolean mountains, a fire burning in a river-stone fireplace. Anna walked across the hardwood floors in her nightgown carrying something in her arms. And then the windows burst in with gunfire and Anna fell to the floor, dropping what she was carrying. Jake couldn't respond soon enough to save her. What kind of man was he? Not even able to save the woman he loved in their own home. Their home?