Deadly Seduction (16 page)

Bangkok, Thailand
September 23

Rufin perched nervously on the very end of the crowded bench, hiding behind a newspaper while pretending to read. He kept his left foot poised, ready to flee at the first sign of trouble.

He’d been sitting there for an hour, a total nervous wreck, watching the shop across the street. Would Bohdana show?

After days of hiding in narrow garbage-filled back alleys, avoiding most everyone, it now seemed strange to be out in such an open space. That no one even spared him a second glance made it slightly easier for him to breathe.

It was still hard to believe he’d managed to escape the Americans who’d destroyed the lab.
Destroyed his life.
The off-duty guard, who had returned early from collecting supplies, had inadvertently saved Rufin’s life that day by opening fire on the Americans. Unfortunately, when the Americans fired back, the guard had sought refuge inside the lab, not realizing the building had been rigged to blow up.

And when it blew, Rufin’s plight had grown even bleaker. If the Thai government knew he survived, they’d hold him responsible for everything: the loss of the lab, the loss of the data to the Americans, and the loss of the last two test subjects.

He prayed that the Thais believed him dead or captured. Dead would be better.

Rufin had ended up helping himself to the dead guard’s ancient motor bike and backpack, riding it nonstop—certain the hounds of hell were after him. Before reaching Bangkok, he shaved his head in an attempt to alter his appearance. Selling the motorbike netted him some money, most of which he still had. But he’d need much more to buy papers to get passage out of the country.

It had taken tremendous courage to venture into an Internet café and set up an e-mail account. He’d been so certain that half the world was searching for him. To not be taken down by a swarm of police made him feel slightly braver.

To his surprise, Bohdana had replied quickly with the shocking news that she was also in Bangkok, having fled Jakarta in the wake of Zadovsky’s death.

I have been grief stricken,
she wrote,
afraid you had been apprehended.
Her cryptic e-mail went on to caution him against trusting anyone.
The authorities are seeking any and all known associates.

Associates of Zadovsky’s, no doubt.

After outlining her fears for her own safety, she agreed to meet Rufin but only if she selected the spot. She was still so naively trusting that it made him want to cry. The memories of their friendship before Zadovsky’s death came back over him. They’d met only twice, but Bohdana had immediately latched on to him as if sensing a kindred soul.
“I’m glad to meet someone else who works selflessly for Dr. Zadovsky but is not appreciated,”
she’d whispered.

She had been the only person on earth he could discuss work with. The only person he ever really trusted. For the first time in days, Rufin had felt hopeful.

Now that hope blossomed to adoration as Bohdana arrived across the street.
I’ll wear a red hat
, she had informed him

He almost whimpered at the sight of her. She’d lost weight. And he’d never seen her wearing such drab clothing. He watched as she milled about for a while, before paying for her groceries. Heading west, away from the market, Bohdana walked a short distance and turned down a less busy street.

Rufin stood and loped along behind her. He still hadn’t decided what to tell her. Some version of the truth since he wasn’t good at outright lies, but preferably something that didn’t make him sound like such a fool.

Prior to the American raid, Rufin had been working diligently on his own plan to flee the lab, a painstaking plan that had included copying all critical research. Research he’d intended to use as a bargaining chip with another country. How ironic that the Americans had been at the top of his list.

Even more insane was the fact that Rufin still toyed with the idea of going to the U.S. Embassy and requesting asylum. Except without Taz, he had no proof, no bargaining chip.

In their zeal to come to the rescue, the Americans had virtually signed Taz’s death warrant. Rufin had seen more than one test subject die from the violent seizures induced by faulty or interrupted programming.

Still, if the Americans had Taz’s body, there was a chance.

That was one of the things he wanted to broach with Bohdana. If she would agree to accompany him to the Embassy and corroborate his story…

Up ahead, Bohdana turned toward a rundown high-rise. She had suggested they meet at her girlfriend’s flat. And since her friend was away visiting family, Bohdana had hinted that Rufin could hide there a day or two. The woman was truly an answered prayer.

She disappeared inside the building. Rufin watched for a few minutes then went in. Following her instruction, he made his way to the fifth floor and rapped nervously on the door.

Bohdana opened it and pulled him inside with a high-pitched squeal. “I have worried about you!”

“You d-d-don’t know how good it is to see you.”

She wrinkled her nose, reminding him of how long it had been since he’d bathed. He took a step back and she seemed relieved.

She waved him toward the main room and moved back to the kitchen. “Go. Sit. I’ll bring in food and tea.”

But before he even took a step, knocking sounded at the door.

Rufin froze. Bohdana pressed a finger to her lips and eased forward.

The door burst open before she reached it. A tall, blond man stepped inside, holding a handgun. The silencer attached to the gun’s barrel made it look longer. More menacing.

And it was pointed straight at Rufin.

Bohdana was talking so fast he could scarcely keep up. It was evident that she had expected this man. Her betrayal sickened Rufin. He prayed he’d pass out before the man pulled the trigger.

The man swung sideways, slamming the door behind him. Bohdana drew a sharp breath as the gun leveled at her now. She turned and ran back in the kitchen. The first shot blew off half her head.

Rufin dropped to his knees, retching as the second shot rang in his ears. He began sobbing uncontrollably. This was it. He was next.

“Come on! We’ve got to get out of here,” the man said. “Before the others arrive.”

Rufin blinked through his tears. “Others?”

“Don’t you get it? She set you up. Sold you out. The Thai secret police are on their way. Let’s go! I’ve got a car outside.”

Stumbling to his feet, Rufin kept his eyes averted, away from the kitchen. He focused on the man who’d saved him.

The stranger was a Westerner. Though wearing civilian clothes and a flashy gold watch that made him look like a tourist, the man had the same build, the same chilling confidence, as the Americans who’d raided the lab. He even handled his weapon the same way.

They had come back for him! They would protect him from the Thai agents! Rufin felt fresh tears of relief blurring his vision.

Outside, the distant sounds of a siren, an everyday noise in Bangkok, took on new meaning. They were after
him
.

“We must hurry,” Rufin said, panicking anew. “I swear, I’ll tell you everything. Just don’t let them get me.”

The man flashed a cold smile. “I’ve got it covered. No worries.”

Boston, Massachusetts
September 23

“You said you had good news.” Abe Caldwell started speaking as soon as Tommy Groene came into his office.

He had just poured a cup of coffee. His first. Tara had met him at six in the private gym downstairs and run him through a grueling workout. A self-proclaimed “personal trainer with a twist,” she’d finished off his session with an equally grueling round of sex. Her version of cardiofuck.

Thanks to Tara’s skills, Abe’s body looked more thirty-five than forty-nine. And thanks to one of his grandfather’s more creative ventures with the late Victor Zadovsky, Abe’s legendary sexual stamina delivered on the promise his well-sculpted body made.

How ironic that, thanks to Zadovsky’s death, Abe was being forced to go public with that precious formula. All the major pharmaceutical companies had their own version of sexual enhancement drugs, cleverly marketed to aid erectile dysfunction. Caldwell Pharmaceuticals would have the twist of multiple orgasms. For
men
and women.

Without thought, Abe reached for a cigarette. He stopped.

That he chose not to smoke right now had nothing to do with his doctor’s advice. It was about habitual behavior. Self-control. Willpower. Now there was a dream drug yet to be made.

Abe carried his coffee back to his desk. “Out with it.”

“Allen picked up the signal again last night, in southern Arizona. This time he was able to get close enough to visually confirm it was Max Duncan. A woman was with him; her description matches that of Dr. Houston.”

Abe’s cup clattered against the saucer. “You haven’t said they were eliminated.”

“They were on the interstate. Too many witnesses and traffic cameras. Then a storm hit and Allen lost the signal. They got separated.”

“Goddamnit.” Abe snatched up a cigarette, but didn’t light up. Yet. Lost and intermittent signals were just one of the things that kept the tracker technology off the market. For now. “Did he get a tag number? Description?”

Tommy nodded. “It came back registered to a junk dealer, who does not appear to have any connection to Duncan. It’s likely stolen, though it hasn’t been reported yet.”

“Let’s hope it stays that way. All I need is for the CIA to waltz in and spring Duncan from jail for auto theft.” He lit up and inhaled deeply. “Now what?”

“Triangulation is a little harder in the area Allen lost him. But sooner or later Duncan will move back in range.”

The beacon implanted in Max Duncan piggybacked off cell phone towers. All the same problems encountered with cell service sometimes made it difficult to pick up a signal.

“If Duncan gets too far ahead, tell Allen to rent a helicopter,” Abe said. “Tell him, I said no more excuses. His next call better be for body bags.”

Tommy took a sip of coffee before continuing. The porcelain cup looked awkward in Tommy’s large hands. “Allen was confident he’d catch up and eliminate them by nightfall.”

“As much as I like the sound of that, it strikes me as optimistic.”

“I agree. Which is why I think I should still go to California with the second tracker to look around for John Doe. It could speed up the process.”

“I’m beginning to wonder if Doe’s beacon is working,” Abe said. That Allen had picked up only one signal, the one they now knew belonged to Max Duncan, seemed to confirm that the other beacon had malfunctioned. “Let’s hold off on that. What have you got on the CIA’s investigation?”

“They’re floating the story that Duncan came to in a panic and killed Winchette accidentally. Since the CIA called Winchette in to consult on this case, they’re taking responsibility, but distancing themselves. It appears the initial questions they were asking about Dr. Houston’s father’s ties to Dr. Winchette were simply to get information on her.”

“That’s a relief.” It had been problematic enough erasing the trail between some old research Erin’s father had worked on decades ago with Dr. Winchette. Abe didn’t want that can of worms reopened. “And Winchette’s files?”

“His home was sanitized last night. His personal computer and files were swapped with look-alikes so nothing appears disturbed.”

Abe wondered what other secrets Winchette’s records might yield about personal pet projects or even about certain competitors of Caldwell Pharmaceuticals. Of course, the latter called for even greater discretion as the fiasco with Erin’s father had proven.

How unfortunate the late Dr. Marvin Houston had recognized a portion of his old research that had accidentally been used verbatim in a study. That the old research had been
classified
at least made it easier to insinuate that Houston had sold the data himself.

“Once Winchette’s death is publicly announced,” Tommy went on, “our PR department can issue a condolence statement, acknowledging Caldwell Pharmaceuticals’ R and D relationship with Winchette’s hospital. Everyone else will do likewise.”

Listening to Tommy calmly outline plans deepened Abe’s faith in him. For the first time in days, Abe felt cautiously optimistic. With Salvador’s promise of financial backing and full access to Winchette’s private records, the future didn’t look as bleak.

Abe’s private line rang just then. He glanced at the display then back at Tommy. “If you’ll excuse me.”

Tommy stood and offered the standard “call me if you need me” farewell.

Abe picked up the line. “Tell me you found him.”

“Yeah,” Harry said.

The news that Dr. Rufin had been apprehended had Abe springing up from his seat. “Where is he?”

“On ice. The heat here is tremendous.”

“What do you need to get him out?”

“I’m handling that. The fewer people who know, the less the chance for an interception.”

Abe paced, resisting the urge to bark a command. Harry wasn’t as compliant as Tommy. He also wasn’t an employee. And at moments like this, the man was irreplaceable. Problem was, he knew it.

“I have certain resources,” Abe began.

“Resources you’re going to need for something else,” Harry asserted. “I don’t have much time, so I suggest you let me finish. Apparently Rufin was concerned that the Thai government was going to take him out, so he fashioned his own plan to escape with the data.”

The news, as sweet as it sounded, was being delivered in a tone that promised another shoe was about to drop.

Harry went on. “Rufin loaded the information on microchips that he then implanted inside the test subject known as Taz, aka John Doe. In the process, he removed Taz’s tracking beacon.”

Abe swore. That explained why Allen had picked up only one signal. “And how did Rufin expect to keep tabs on this man?”

“Taz was being programmed to stay with Rufin and to find him if they were parted. But the process wasn’t completed. As it turns out, Max Duncan may be our ace in the hole. Rufin claims the two men had a way to communicate, even if separated. He swears Duncan can lead you to Taz. Shit! Someone’s coming. I’ve got to go.”

“Wait! I want Rufin.”

“Get Taz and we’ll negotiate that point. And don’t get any ideas. Without Rufin to retrieve and transcribe that data, Taz is worthless.”

The line went dead, leaving Abe furious. Harry just loved to play like he was an arrogant hotshot, holding all the aces.

Abe punched in Tommy’s number and began snapping orders as soon as he answered. “Get ahold of Allen. Big change of plans. I need Max Duncan captured alive!”