The Silent Sisters (Charles Jenkins #3)(86)

“You sent the message about ‘a friend.’”

“Yes. But as it always seems to be with Mr. Jenkins, nothing is simple, is it? The men who grabbed him, do you know who they are?”

“They work for Yekaterina Velikaya,” Arkhip said.

“Vot der’mo,” Federov said. “When Jenkins gets himself in trouble, he really gets himself in trouble. And the other man?”

“Alexander Zhomov,” Maria said. “He—”

“Vot der’mo,” Federov said again, sounding exasperated. He let out a held breath and ran his hand over the stubble atop his head. “I am well familiar with Alexander Zhomov, and his reputation.”

“Who is he, exactly?” Arkhip asked. “FSB, no doubt.”

Maria explained.

“This is getting more and more interesting,” Federov said, continuing to rub his stubble as he paced.

Maria told him the conclusion she and Jenkins had reached. Why Sokalov wished to keep her apprehension quiet.

“It makes sense,” Federov said. “Then can I presume that the rumors of your relationship with Sokalov being more than professional are true?”

Maria glanced at Arkhip, then redirected her focus on Federov. “Yes. They are true.”

Federov chuckled. “Don’t look so surprised, Ms. Kulikova. There were many rumors inside Lubyanka.”

“Mr. Jenkins would be a very big fish for Sokalov to land,” Maria said. “His goal has always been to be chairman and to work at the Kremlin.”

“True. But Jenkins is on a kill list.”

“He is,” she said, “but Sokalov would have another purpose for him.”

“Which is what?”

“To provide the Kremlin with someone they could exchange for the two members of Zaslon recently arrested in a failed attempt to kill Fyodor Ibragimov.”

Federov’s eyes widened. “Tvoyu mat’,” he said. Holy shit. “When did this happen?”

“Recently. The Americans have not yet acknowledged it, or that they are holding the two men.”

“They’re waiting for the Kremlin to act first,” Federov said. “An admission would be a huge embarrassment, especially if the Americans can prove the president was aware of the operation.”

“Yes, it would,” Maria said. “Not to mention justifying a condemnation and the imposition of strong sanctions other NATO countries would join. If Sokalov can deliver Mr. Jenkins, he provides the Kremlin with a powerful bargaining chip to get the two men returned quietly.”

Federov looked to Arkhip. “It seems you and the Velikayas are not the only ones who want Mr. Jenkins, Senior Investigator Arkhip Mishkin.”

“It would seem not,” Arkhip agreed.

“As I said, when Mr. Jenkins steps in the shit, it is deep. Tell me, Mishkin, about the death of Eldar Velikaya and why you wish to speak to Jenkins. We may be able to use this to our advantage. But be quick about it. I don’t believe Mr. Jenkins has much time.”





45


Irkutsk Meatpacking Plant

Irkutsk, Russia

Jenkins had hoped for a long drive; he had hoped to be pulled from the car and placed on a plane, to be flown back to Moscow; he had hoped even for a cell in Lefortovo, because then it would have meant he had been picked up by the FSB. Had that been the case, he would have the slightest chance of remaining alive. Yes, he was on an FSB kill list, according to Matt Lemore and Maria Kulikova, but even kill lists weren’t certain death. He could expect to be tortured, interrogated, and kept in isolation for as long as Moscow believed he had information to offer, something of value he could provide. It would be precious time Lemore would need to work on his behalf, if Federov could get word to him that Jenkins remained alive. An unwritten code existed between hostile nations. You expel our diplomats, and we’ll expel yours. You capture one of ours and accuse him of spying, and we’ll do the same to one of yours, regardless if the person is actually a spy. Then we will exchange them. According to Maria, the CIA currently held two members of Zaslon, Russia’s elite and highly secretive special operations unit that Moscow would not publicly acknowledge. That meant Lemore had assets to bargain with.

All of that, however, became moot when the car into which Jenkins had been forced stopped just minutes after departing the train terminal, and the two men pulled Jenkins from the floorboards of the back seat and deposited him on hard ground. These men were not FSB. These men worked for Yekaterina Velikaya. Mafiya. They had no interest in negotiations or trades, and probably not even in enormous sums of money.

They had just one interest. Vengeance.

The men grabbed him beneath his armpits and dragged him, presumably into a building, from the temperature change. Inside, he was lifted off the ground and felt an increased strain on his shoulders. They had suspended him in midair. Not good.

They would interrogate him, but not likely for very long. They had just one question. Why had he killed Yekaterina’s son?

It changed the game.

He hoped Federov, the “friend” at the Irkutsk railway terminal, had reached Maria and taken her to safety. Maria had to then let Lemore know the Velikayas had Jenkins. And Lemore had to then somehow get word to the Velikayas that killing Jenkins would be frowned upon by the CIA, which would launch an all-out war on the Velikayas’ business interests.