Agent X - Boyd Noah (серии книг читать бесплатно .TXT) 📗

Vail looked over at Bursaw, who had a huge, self-congratulatory smile on his face. “Thanks, Kate. Now I can spend the rest of the day fending off questions from the Special Agent Lust here.”

After eating burgers in the car again, Vail and Bursaw sat parked a half mile from the apartment, where Kate was making calls. “Steve, do you think we’ll actually find out what happened to Sundra?”

“Huh? Oh, I don’t know. We could. Right now I’d guess fifty-fifty.”

“You’re worried about Kate, aren’t you?”

Vail looked at him carefully to make sure this wasn’t a lead-in to a salacious line of questioning. “The way everything’s gone today, I shouldn’t be, but every once in a while I get worried that things won’t work out. That usually happens when I can’t do anything except sit and wait.” He took Bursaw’s phone and dialed Kate. After a number of rings, he hung up. “Does your sister have call-waiting?”

“I think so.”

“I didn’t get the machine, so hopefully Kate was busy on the line.”

Then almost immediately the phone rang, and Vail could see that it was Kate. “Everything okay?” he asked.

“Put me on speaker. . . . It looks like we got Rellick’s second cell. They queried that CIA dead-end number on the date and time you gave me and came up with a phone whose subscriber is William Jackson, with a billing address at that Russian safe house in Denton you tried to burn down. There were a number of calls on it from another cell that comes back to a Vladimir Demeter, same billing address. I’m sure they’re both aliases, one for Rellick and the other is probably Calculus’s, since the two of them were meeting regularly around that time.”

“And you’re having them ping Rellick’s number?” Vail asked.

“They’ve already started, but it’s not on right now. They’ll ping it every ten minutes. Our people at headquarters are going to track it with the Bureau satellite. Where are you?”

“About a half mile from you.”

They heard her other line click in. “Okay, hold on.”

Bursaw said, “You ever think about moving here?”

“You mean because of Kate?”

“We’ve got brick buildings, too.”

“I’m thinking Kate’s a little too well adjusted to handle me full-time.”

“Hey, contrarians need love, too.”

“That’s true, they do, but never each other.”

“In philosophy that would constitute a paradox. Just remember, a paradox, while seemingly illogical, is in fact true.”

“Go ahead, caller, you’re on the line with the love doctor.”

“Deflection is a sure sign of hitting a nerve.”

“Yeah, the auditory nerve.”

They heard Kate click back. “They’ve got him. He’s not far away. The GW Memorial, heading north just below the Arlington Memorial Bridge.”

Bursaw put the car in gear. “We’re on our way.”

It was starting to grow dark, and the evening traffic was getting heavier. Just as Bursaw’s car reached the on-ramp for the GW Memorial Parkway, his phone rang again. Kate said, “He’s pulled off the GW just after the Roosevelt Bridge. The only thing there is the parking area for Roosevelt Park.”

Vail said, “I told you the Russians love parks. He may be meeting his handler there. If so, they’re probably going to try to get him out.”

“I’ll have them keep tracking him in case he starts moving. I’ll call you back in five.”

Bursaw pulled into the lot. There was only one car, a midsize Chevrolet. It was freshly washed, and there was a car-rental sticker on its bumper. Both men drew their guns and, leaving their doors open should they need cover to retreat to, approached the car from opposite sides. It was empty.

Bursaw said, “He must have crossed the footbridge into the park. There’s nowhere else to go.”

“Is there another way out of there?”

“It’s an island. The footbridge is the only way on or off, unless you want to swim across a freezing Potomac.”

“How many flashlights do you have?”

“Just one.”

“Okay, you lock up the car and I’ll make sure he can’t drive out of here.”

As Bursaw went to the trunk to get the light, he watched Vail pull out his lockback knife and slash all four tires of the rental. Then he took out his phone and turned it on. “Put yours on vibrate,” he told Bursaw. “We’re going to have to split up. When we get across the bridge, you go north and I’ll take south. If you spot him, call me and we can pin him in.”

Vail then called Kate. “I’ve turned my phone on. It looks like Rellick’s in the park. Luke and I are going to split up. Just keep on Rellick’s phone.” He hung up. “Ready?” he asked Bursaw.

“I don’t think we should cross the bridge together. If he’s waiting for us, all he’ll have to do to take both of us out is fire straight along the bridge. There’s no place to get cover unless we’re willing to go into the water.”

“Sounds right. You go first.”

“Hey, it’s your girlfriend we’re trying to get off.”

Vail stepped onto the footbridge. “Okay, but next New Year’s I’m definitely getting a hooker. In Chicago.”

27

As soon as Vail reached the other side, he took up a defensive position to cover Bursaw while he crossed the bridge. He checked his watch—almost eight o’clock. It was dark, but there was enough light from the roadways crisscrossing the island to follow the footpaths. Without a word the two men glanced at each other, Vail heading south and Bursaw north.

Vail walked a hundred feet and then stopped to listen. Since the only car in the lot besides Bursaw’s was the rental, Vail felt that Rellick had to be there waiting for someone to arrive. Possibly one of the Russians, so he could exchange the list he’d downloaded from the CIA files for a way out of the country and probably one last, very large payment. Rellick still had his phone on, so there was a good chance he was making calls or waiting for one. A gust of frigid wind came off the Potomac, and Vail waited for it to subside before he continued.

He was surprised at how rustic the park was. Except for the footpaths, some of which were endless three-foot-wide wooden planks, the ground was heavy with trees and undergrowth, creating more of a wooded setting than an urban park. There were very few evergreens, and the hardwoods were bare. The path he was on was dirt, and there were still leaves cluttering it. The lights from the surrounding cities allowed him to find his way south.

Off to his left, Vail could see a frozen pond. He took out his phone and made sure it was on. As he neared the southern end of the island, he could see the tall buildings of Arlington across the Potomac. There was another path off to the right, and it seemed to head toward the great dark shadow of the Theodore Roosevelt Memorial Bridge as it passed overhead connecting D.C. to Arlington.

He thought he heard something and stopped. After thirty seconds the wind blew from the same direction where the suspected sound originated, and this time he recognized an indistinguishable voice. Vail thumbed the safety off his Glock and lightened his step, moving toward its source.

It seemed to be coming from the bridge’s underpass, a corridor of fifteen-foot-high off-white concrete walls that curved overhead. At the other end, Vail could see the lights of downtown Arlington reflected off the Potomac. He stopped again and listened. Now, because of the hum of the tires driving over the bridge, he seemed to be in some acoustical dead space, because the voice suddenly vanished. It was the perfect place for spies to meet on a winter night. Especially for Russians, who loved parks, the cold, and vodka.

At the midpoint of each of the walls were walk-in doors, probably leading to maintenance storage. Vail wondered if Rellick had somehow gotten into one of them to wait. He started toward the closest one with his weapon pointed at the other. When he reached the door, he tried the knob. It was locked.