Nate heard Dominika coming up behind him; he caught her and steered her off the tipsy dock, and she looked out at the black winter water, screamed and bent over, and vomited on the grass. He led her back inside, splashed her face with water, pocketed the spool of wire from the recorder, rummaged around Ioana’s bedroom and retrieved her Romanian alias passport. They both knew there could be no thought of tipping the police. Professor Ri would be reported missing, but God knows how long it would be before they found him in a rental cottage on the river. Austrian state police forensics were exceedingly thorough. As he closed the front door of the cottage, Nate wiped the doorknob, thinking that between the tub, the furniture, the dishes, and dredging the river bottom under the dock, the owner would have a little spring cleaning to do before the summer rental season began.
They walked back down Laberlweg, the way they had come, Dominika’s cheeks wet with tears. As they walked, Nate half watched for Blokhin to emerge out of the Kaiserwasser in an explosion of foam, like a Nile crocodile ambushing a baby gazelle. But Nate was pretty sure Blokhin would already be halfway to Schwechat and the airport. He had knocked off Dominika’s agent per instructions, had slaughtered the safe-house keeper as a bonus, but had not waited for Egorova, probably because she had been designated a target of opportunity—take her if you can, but don’t loiter on target and don’t get arrested. Ioana’s screams had hurried him on his way. Their late arrival and the North Korean’s early appearance at the cottage probably saved their lives. Nate had no illusions about being able to fend Blokhin off in hand-to-hand combat.
Nate was shocked at the brutality of the Spetsnaz killer. He must be quite the lad. All those guys were hard cases, but this one had a screw loose. It was obvious now that Dominika was a target and in danger. Could her new Kremlin patrons protect her? Inside the palace, sure, but on the street? Opposition party leader Nemtsov had been shot on the busy Bolshoy Moskvoretsky Bridge, in the very shadow of the Kremlin’s Vodovzvodnaya Tower. One thing was for sure: Dominika was dead unless CIA could take out this Shlykov asshole and his dancing bear, Blokhin.
Dominika sagged against him, her body trembling and voice shaking. “We were in your room, making love, while she was being tortured, stalling for time, giving herself to save me,” she sobbed. “She had the courage to describe the man who was torturing her, even though she knew she was going to die. Oh,
“We didn’t know, and if we had been there, we’d be in the river too,” said Nate. “That guy wasn’t going to let anyone walk away.”
“I should have been there,” said Dominika.
Nate stopped in the middle of the pathway and shook her by the shoulders. “Listen to me. Not your fault. A little less guilt and a lot more thinking about surviving. Will this Shlykov take a whack at you in Moscow?”
Dominika shrugged and shook him off. “In the
“Then fucking him up in Istanbul is critical. Will you be able to finish him if we can complicate his life?”
“If he fails and embarrasses the president, he is lost. But what will you do?”
“You wouldn’t believe me if I told you,” said Nate. As they walked, he outlined the plan to burn Major Shlykov, and her part in the operation. She stopped crying, her eyes blazed, and she thought of Ioana.
In Washington, the ponderous process of selecting a new DCIA heated up and Langley was told to prepare for briefings for the candidates’ use during congressional testimony. Benford contemplated this requirement with unease.
The only policy position of the president that preoccupied Benford was the former’s oft-stated distrust of CIA and the president’s conviction that it was an anachronistic organization, organically prone to misdeeds and illegal acts and, consequently, overdue for demolition and a thorough reorganization. Happily, said the president, a new DCIA would begin critical reforms. To this end, the White House was putting forward three candidates for DCIA, one of whom would be selected by his staff for Senate confirmation. The unsympathetic SSCI approved the plan and ordered CIA to brief the three candidates equally in preparation for confirmation hearings. Briefing sources and methods to
