Red Dawn Rising (Red Returning Trilogy) (22 page)

So when his phone buzzed just four hours later, he answered instantly. It was Viktor, his friend and informant who prowled the back corridors of Russian intelligence, siphoning up just pieces of whole truth. Evgeny knew this dark labyrinth to be the netherworld of conspiracy, the land where Andreyev and Fedorovsky had once fleshed out their heinous plot to kill their own president and that of Syria, to fraudulently “prove” Israel had ordered both hits, and to watch an outraged U.S. stand by as the Arab world finally extinguished Israel. All the while, Andreyev and Fedorovsky were to seize control of Russia.

Every bit of it according to the dictates of their shadowy commander-at-large, the Architect. But the whole thing had crashed and burned at the feet of a lovely young pianist and the code she found in her music.

When the call ended, Evgeny sprang from bed and shook Jordan awake. “We have to go. Wake the women and tell them to dress quickly, then meet me at the side door of the church. All of you must bring something to conceal your faces. Scarves, hats, sunglasses, whatever you have.” Before retiring that night, Rev. Scovall had gathered warm clothing from the church’s charity closet, especially for Liesl, who’d fled with nothing but what she was wearing in balmy Charleston.

Jordan mumbled acknowledgment of the orders. In the time it took him to wrestle himself from sleep and finally throw back the covers, Evgeny was dressed and out the door.

Hoping not to wake the reverend from wherever he had bedded down that night, Evgeny slipped out of the church and went quickly to the van. Rev. Scovall had arranged for him to park it in the private space of a church member who lived across the street but spent her winters in Florida.

In the smoky dark of predawn—long before the first parishioners would arrive for Sunday-morning service—Evgeny stopped the van at the
curb
and watched as three figures approached from the side door of the church. Once they were settled inside, the van drove off at a cautious pace. No need to draw unwanted attention.

“What’s going on, Evgeny?” Liesl asked in a sleep-thick voice.

“Cass’s stepfather is on the move,” he answered.

“What?” Cass asked, startled. Evgeny watched her reaction in the rearview mirror. He needed to know every nuance of this little cast of cohorts he’d been saddled with. He wanted nothing more than to stalk Hans Kluen alone, to follow him straight to the Architect. But Evgeny needed Cass to identify her stepfather, to educate Evgeny on the slippery ways of the traitorous Wall Street banker. He needed Jordan Winslow only to identify the Architect, if indeed that was the man in the UN apartment. But Evgeny couldn’t be certain of that if the man stood before him right now. No, it was better to track the known than chase blindly after the unknown. At this point, there were entirely too many unknowns to suit an undercover agent who’d always been sure of his mission, his target.

And Liesl. Yes, her role was critical. She was the credible one, the surest path to those who would release the Architect’s maniacal hold on Russia. Still, this wasn’t supposed to be a group effort.

“What do you mean he’s on the move?” Cass persisted.

“Someone is waiting to signal him. I need to know who and where.”

“How do you know this?”

“My contact tells me so. That is enough for you to know.”

Cass glowered at him. “You know, we’re going to get along a lot better if you stop treating us like unintelligent matter. I have a feeling I wouldn’t be here if you didn’t need me. You probably don’t know what Hans looks like, do you?”

Evgeny squinted at her in the mirror. “That is correct,” he conceded.

“Thought so,” Cass said. “But here’s a better question. What if he happens to see me?”

“He cannot if you remain concealed in the van.” Evgeny shifted his focus to Liesl. “You must observe everything, Liesl. That is why you are here. You must record everything you see in order to convince the CIA
that
we are tracking something real and imminent—as if the inauguration and Supreme Court blowups weren’t convincing enough. Still, we must prove the greater conspiracy.”

“If everything you tell me is true,” Liesl said, “and I have no reason to doubt it, I’ll have no trouble convincing Ava and Ben to act on it.”

Evgeny immediately swerved to the curb and stopped. “Liesl, I must talk to you alone. Come with me.” He looked at the wide-eyed faces behind him, where he preferred they sit. “Please remain in the van,” he told Cass and Jordan. “We will not be long.”

Liesl climbed warily from the van.

“Please come,” he urged her as he walked a short distance away, stopping in the receding doorway of a closed tobacco shop. No one else was on the street when he turned to face Liesl. She was about to speak when he said sharply, “Listen to me and don’t interrupt.” He ignored her glare. “You will, under no circumstances, contact Ben Hafner or anyone else in the White House. I have proof that the Architect is running an undercover informant inside the Executive Office. Again.” He let that sink in, watching Liesl recoil at the insinuation. “This informant works for the president.”

Even in the dim light, Evgeny could see Liesl’s face redden. “You can’t mean Ben!”

“Shh!” he warned, looking around them, then toward the van. “We must go, but first you swear to me you will contact no one until I tell you to. Do you understand?”

She didn’t answer, but her body trembled. Not from the cold, he suspected. He’d been too harsh. “Liesl, please. We do not know for certain that it is Hafner, but my contact believes it is.”

“Well, your contact doesn’t know Ben. I do. He’s a good and honorable man.”

“Even the good fall, lured by money or ideology. Maybe allegiance to another country.”

“What does that mean?”

Evgeny wished he’d ventured no further, but now that he had, he might as well finish. “I, too, believe the White House mole is Ben Hafner.
His
own brother-in-law, a longtime insurgent working for the Russian underground, has recruited Ben in the name of their common homeland. Not America, but Israel. Ben’s whole family lives there. He keeps a home there. And word has it that he is sending his wife and children to his family in Tel Aviv.” Liesl stared at him in disbelief. “I am certain why he is doing that, Liesl. To protect them if he is caught.”

He was surprised to see Liesl swipe at her eyes. He didn’t anticipate the effect this news would have on her. Now he worried that she might try to warn Hafner. Evgeny would have to convince her of the man’s undoing.

When Evgeny and Liesl returned to the van, no one spoke. They rode the distance to Lower Manhattan in an uneasy hush, until they reached the Tribeca district south of Canal Street. “Two blocks ahead, take a right,” Cass instructed. “Two more blocks, you’ll see an ochre-colored building on the left. That’s it.”

Soon, the van parked across the street from Jilly and Hans Kluen’s apartment building. Evgeny turned off the motor, spewing telltale exhaust plumes into the frigid morning. All eyes watched the glass door of the building where a light from within lit the etched fleur-de-lis design. “You’re sure it was
this
morning?” Cass asked.

“Nothing is sure. We will watch. We cannot afford not to.”

Cass looked at Jordan, then Liesl, who appeared wholly preoccupied with her own thoughts. Cass noticed that Liesl had tucked all of her trademark hair inside a knit hat and pulled a soft wool scarf over her mouth. Even half concealed, the woman was even more striking in person than in her publicity shots, though just now, Cass noticed, the famous face had pulled into weary lines. Was Cass projecting her own emotions onto Liesl? Probably. There was something almost visceral about Cass’s need to share her feelings with another woman. Certainly not her mother. And no longer Rachel. But with the one now yoked to Cass in this dangerous passage.

Cass tugged on the hood of her jacket, pulling it lower over her face,
not
just to hide but for warmth and insulation against this disturbing time. Just then, she felt a hand on her knee and the gentle squeeze. She looked up into Jordan’s caring face and, once again, found the comfort she needed. She cherished his candid affections for her and all the hairs on her head—the ones he’d warned Evgeny never to touch. That made her smile again, inside where no one could see.

Jordan’s was an honesty she’d rarely known in others, and she believed some merciful, benevolent force somewhere had set this gentle man down in her path.

Evgeny’s urgent voice broke the stillness. “Is this Hans Kluen coming through the door?”

Cass turned quickly to see her stepfather leave the apartment building and turn north along the sidewalk.

“Yes, that’s him!” All her senses suddenly returned to the mission at hand.

“He is not hailing a cab,” Evgeny observed. “I will have to follow him on foot.” He turned to Jordan. “You drive. Stay a safe distance behind me, but not too far. Any communication you need to make with me, remember to use only the phone I gave you.”

As Evgeny slipped from the van and closed the door, Jordan scrambled from the back seat to take his place. They all watched Evgeny, clad in black head to toe, with his coat collar drawn high around his face. He crossed the street and took up a leisurely pace a half block behind Hans Kluen.

Cass watched her stepfather’s lumbering gait, accentuated by the bulky coat. “I can’t believe this is happening,” she muttered.

“Do you think your mother suspects anything?” Liesl asked as Jordan pulled the van from the curb and fell in at a discreet distance behind Evgeny.

“Nothing like this. She still thinks he’s having an affair. I think she’d handle that a lot better than what’s coming.”

“What can we do for her?”

We?
Something tugged inside Cass. She looked curiously at Liesl. “I haven’t thought that one through, but I’ll handle it.” On her own, Cass knew. She looked at the worn seat fabric between her and Liesl, just a sliver of space separating two radically different lives. Had Liesl just attempted a bridge between them?

When Cass looked up, Liesl was watching her. “I don’t know you, Cass,” she said in a direct and probing way, “but I sense something very solitary in you.”

Cass was too stunned to respond.

“We’ve been bound together in something too extraordinary to be subtle with each other. Before this is over, we might have to rely on one another for survival. So we should each know how the other is wired, don’t you think?” Liesl looked ahead, her sights clearly on Evgeny, who was still strolling casually behind Hans. Then she turned back to face Cass. “I sense the solitary in you because I know it so well. I chose to live that insulated life for many years. I thought it would keep me safe from more hurt. But it just made the pain worse.” Liesl glanced toward Evgeny as the van kept a steady pace behind him, the light traffic on the street passing by. “It wasn’t until—Jordan! He’s turning the corner!”

“I see him.” A minute later, the van made a slow right turn. Hans must have slowed after the turn because Evgeny was now too close to him. They watched as Evgeny stopped in front of a pharmacy window and feigned prolonged interest in whatever was displayed there. But Hans took no special notice, though he did turn once to look behind him, at Evgeny and a few others on the street. It was an apartment building on the left side that Hans seemed most drawn to, glancing repeatedly toward a balcony midway up.

“Watch him!” Cass said, rebounding from the awkward and unfinished dialogue with Liesl. “He’s looking for something in that building!”