Part 23 (2/2)
When Krot saw him, his eyes widened in shock. ”But I'm out of the game,” he mouthed.
”Nothing personal,” the a.s.sa.s.sin answered as he fired.
58.
The street behind the souk was cast in evening shadows. Judd and Eva had been heading out of the garage when the helmeted gunman fired into the Citron. They saw Krot's face explode, and then Katia Levinchev's. Blood sprayed through the car and out the broken windows. The gunman had not aimed at Katia, so the rounds that hit her had to have gone through Krot's head first. Eva's heart seemed to stop.
The gunman spun on his booted heels and raced off.
”You set them up!” Liza screamed at Judd and Eva from the doorway. ”You're dead, dead!” She aimed her gun.
But they were already tearing off after the killer, who jumped on a motorcycle. As the man kicked it into gear, Judd threw himself at him. But the bike bolted off, and Judd grabbed air and hit the street. Swearing, he started to scramble up.
”Stay down!” Eva snapped. She was crouched, Glock in both hands, firing, as the motorcycle angled sharply into the oncoming traffic. She paused, then had a clear shot as the motorbike wove around an SUV. She fired twice more. One bullet put a hole in the bike's tail and the second came close to the killer's left arm. The motorcycle swung in front of the SUV and out of sight.
”Let's follow him!” Their car was on the other side of the street. She could do a U-turn and- ”Stop, Eva!” Judd scrambled up.
”What?”
He turned back toward the garage. ”We'll never catch him. I've got another idea.” Hurrying, he held his Beretta down close to his thigh where it was less noticeable. ”Liza may be able to help us find Seymour.”
She caught up with him. ”In case it's slipped your mind, she just threatened to scrub us.”
As they neared the garage, Hata drove the Citron back inside. He stared straight ahead, his profile wooden. There was a streak of blood on his cheek. Neither Liza nor any of her other men were in sight.
Watching warily, Eva and Judd followed the Citron. The car's trunk opened silently, and the metallic odor of fresh blood drifted out. There was Krot's corpse, tucked in neatly, curved like the letter C.
Liza stepped out from the shadows, carrying a full highball gla.s.s. She glanced at Krot's body and drank. As she lowered the gla.s.s, she sighed then addressed them. ”I saw you try to stop the p.r.i.c.k that killed them. Is not necessary to wipe you. Do not give me a reason.”
Hata climbed out from behind the steering wheel. His white linen djellaba was b.l.o.o.d.y and matted with gore, and his expression was grim. One of the guards opened the pa.s.senger door and lifted out Katia. The guard curled her body into the trunk with Krot's.
Liza looked away and drank.
Hata returned to his driving post again, and the guard got into the pa.s.senger seat. Hata backed the car out and drove off down the street.
”Where will they leave Katia and Krot?” Eva asked.
”In the souk. At least they will be together. Is best I can do for them.” Liza drank again.
Eva hesitated. ”I'm sorry.”
Liza gave a Slavic shrug. ”Part of the business.”
”Did either of them say how to find Seymour or Katia's father?” Judd asked.
”No. Are important men?” Liza asked.
”Maybe,” Judd said. ”I noticed you've got security cameras to spot anyone trying to break in. That tells me you're seriously concerned about security, and that you may have extended your concern to indoors.”
Liza's eyes narrowed. She said nothing.
”We can offer you one thousand dollars for any recordings you have of Krot and Katia-video, audio, whatever.”
Liza's face darkened. She seemed to think about it. ”Is more likely for two thousand.”
”Done.” He pulled out his wallet. His Beretta in one hand, the wallet in the other, he thumbed it open so she could see the hundred-dollar bills.
”I should have asked for more.” Liza turned away. ”Spartak, watch they do not steal anything.”
A tall, muscular man with a bowling-ball head appeared on the landing. He was carrying a Radom Beryl carbine. Saying nothing, he aimed it at Judd.
Liza hurried upstairs and into the building.
The next few minutes were tense. Spartak continued to aim at Judd, while Eva and Judd pointed weapons at Spartak. No one spoke.
At last, Liza returned, sauntering down the steps into the garage, carrying a CD and her refilled highball gla.s.s.
She held up the CD to Judd. ”So, American, here is the audio of everything that was said in their room. It is noise activated. Give me money.”
Judd took the CD and turned over the cash.
Liza counted the bills. ”Nice doing business with you.” She nodded at Spartak, and he lowered his weapon.
Judd grabbed Eva's arm and hustled her out. Lamplight cast the street in a ghostly glow. They waited for an old Volkswagen bus to pa.s.s and then ran to their car and climbed inside.
Shoving the transmission into gear, Eva drove off, pa.s.sing the place in the street where the motorcyclist had killed Krot and Katia. ”It's terrible Katia died. She wasn't involved in any of this.”
Judd nodded. ”You did a good job going after the gunman. He planned the a.s.sault well and moved fast. He was a pro.”
Judd did not hand out praise lightly. As she nodded thanks, he slid the disk into the car's player and punched the ON b.u.t.ton.
Static sounded, then music by Rachmaninoff. As they drove on, they listened.
59.
Life was to be lived linearly, or so Eva had always believed. But now as she listened to the recording of Pyotr and Katia's conversation, she was thrown back in time to the almost palpable love they had for each other. Against all common sense, Eva found herself rooting for them to survive.
Pyotr was talking: ”Will you tell me how to get in touch with your father now? I just want to find a way to reach out to Seymour.”
”Papa is dead,” Katia admitted. ”He died seven years ago.”
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