Rogue Angel 51: The Pretender's Gambit (14 page)

Chapter 21

“Annja?”

“Yes.” Answering the vibrating phone had brought Annja out of a
dead sleep. The phone had been lying across her chest, hooked into a charging
station in the wall next to her seat. First class was awesome that way. She
blinked her eyes and glanced at the compartment around her.

Most of the other passengers were engaged in quiet
conversations, read, watched the onboard movie or slept. Beside her, Klykov
snored slightly. His fedora rested on his chest and rose and fell with his
breaths.

“Where are you?” This time Annja recognized Doug Morrell’s
voice.

“I’m on a plane.”

“Going where?”

“To Odessa.”

“Brighton? Why would you go there?”

“Not Brighton. Odessa in Ukraine. On the Black Sea.”

“You know we need to get an idea for the next episode. We’ve
only got so much of a window for these things.”

“I’m doing background research for a possible show.”

“In Odessa?”

“Yes.”

“What is it?” Doug sounded suspicious. He knew she stayed torn
between doing the television show and following up on whatever artifact had
seized her attention.

“Have you heard of a
upiors
?”

“Not really.”

Annja coughed to clear her throat. “It’s a Slavic vampire. In
fact, many etymologists believe that the English word
vampire
was derived from the original
upior
legend.”

“
You’re
going to do a piece on
vampires?” Doug’s voice held absolute delight. He loved the whole idea of
vampires. Only instead of blood-sucking fiends, he preferred the sexy near-god
version of them that was currently popular.

Annja preferred her vampires, if she had to have them. “Polish
ones. They have barbed tongues. They’re supposed to bathe in blood.”

“Like Countess Bathory? Amazing!”

“When you stake them, they’re supposed to explode.”

“Even more amazing. Annja, this is a great idea!”

Annja knew that Doug would think so, and she felt bad that she
wasn’t going to be able to deliver an actual
upior
for the show, but she thought she could do some background for a piece on the
vampire while she was in Odessa.

“Good. I’m glad you like it.”

“Can you send me anything? Some local stuff? Legends?”

“As soon as I get to Odessa in a few more hours.”

“Amazing. Let me tell the powers-that-be and we’ll get cranking
on things at this end.”

“I’ll leave you to that.” Annja ended the call and closed her
eyes again.

“A
upior
?” Klykov asked from beside
her.

“I didn’t mean to wake you.”

“Is okay. I can go back to sleep, but maybe I will have
nightmares now.”

“Sorry.”

Klykov smiled without opening his eyes. “I have seen many
things worse than
upiors
, Annja. I have never seen a
upior.
”

“Neither have I, but there should be enough of a history of
them in Odessa and nearby environs for me to put a show together.”

“You should use caution when you are in Odessa, though. There
are many people who believe
upiors
exist. I am just
not one of them.”

Unable to go back to sleep immediately, Annja reached into her
backpack and took out her tablet and her mini–satellite receiver. She hooked the
devices together and booted up the tablet. Her first stop was her usual
archaeology website.

Rachel, who was [email protected], had written
back about the picture of the elephant she had sent.

HEY ANNJA!

SO COOL TO BE PART OF THIS. I GOT HOLD OF TANECHKA AND WE HAD A
LONG TALK. I’VE MISSED CHATTING TO HER, SO THIS WAS A GOOD EXCUSE TO RECONNECT.
LIFE SOOOO GETS IN THE WAY OF LIVING SOMETIMES!

ANYWAY, TANECHKA TOLD ME HER GRANDFATHER’S NAME WAS ASAF
CHISLOVA. HE WAS HER MOTHER’S FATHER, WHICH IS WHY I COULDN’T REMEMBER THE
NAME.

TANECHKA SAID THE STORY ABOUT THE ELEPHANT WAS THAT HER
GRANDFATHER’S GRANDFATHER, OR SOMEWHERE BACK DOWN THE LINE, GOT THE ELEPHANT
BECAUSE HE WAS A COMMANDER IN THE CRIMEAN WAR. I HAD TO LOOK UP CRIMEAN WAR. I
DIDN’T KNOW WHAT IT WAS. AND THEN I LEARNED THAT WAS WHERE FLORENCE NIGHTINGALE
WAS! I’D ALWAYS THOUGHT SHE WAS A BRIT! AND SHE WAS! BUT SHE GOT FAMOUS WHILE
NURSING IN RUSSIA! WHO KNEW?

WELL, YOU PROBABLY DID. :)

HISTORY! YOU GOTTA LOVE IT!

ANYWAY, ABOUT TANECHKA’S GRANDFATHER, THE SAD THING WAS THAT
NOBODY KNEW ABOUT HIS STORAGE LOCKER UNTIL IT HAD ALREADY BEEN SOLD OFF AND
EMPTIED. HER GRANDFATHER WAS IN A NURSING HOME AFTER A MAJOR STROKE. SHE WENT TO
SEE HIM, BUT HE COULDN’T TALK AND NO ONE KNEW WHERE HIS STUFF WAS. I FEEL BAD
FOR HER. :(

ANYWAY, I HOPE THIS HELPS.

BYE!

Annja opened an email and sent a response.

RACHEL,

THANKS FOR ALL THE EFFORT. THE INFORMATION DOES HELP. I FEEL BAD
FOR YOUR FRIEND, TOO. I’LL SEE IF SOMETHING CAN BE SALVAGED FROM THAT STORAGE
UNIT.

Picking up her phone, Annja put a call through to Bart. She
knew he would be awake and working by now.

“McGilley.”

“Bart, it’s Annja. I’ve got a favor to ask.”

“Okay, ask in a minute. I got some news I’m not happy about.
Since Fernando Sequeira’s name came up in this murder investigation, I’ve had a
couple Interpol contacts keep tabs on him. I just got off the phone with them.
Sequeira’s private pilot filed flight plans for Odessa, Ukraine. The jet took
off only minutes ago. What is going on over there?”

“I don’t know.” Annja considered the situation. “Leonid and I
have negotiated with the fence Onoprienko is going to use to sell the elephant.
Leonid got the name from a mutual acquaintance. The fence is going to hold
Onoprienko up till we get there.”

“You do realize you’re getting deeper and deeper into the
criminal element, right?” Bart sounded more worried than angry. Annja counted
that as a win.

“When you’re dealing with artifacts and national treasures, you
sometimes deal with criminals. Every archaeologist I know has come across tomb
raiders and grave robbers. This isn’t the first time I’ve had to work with
people like this.”

“You know, I’m beginning to think that the more I know about
what you do, the less I like what you do.”

“I love what I do.”

“Look out for Sequeira. He’s bad news. He’s supposed to have
someone who’s good at making people disappear. It’s possible that’s the person
who whacked Calapez and Pousao in front of the precinct. Until we get the middle
guy, it’s going to be hard to connect Sequeira to those murders. But we think we
have a lock on Calapez and Pousao for the murder of the neighbor across the
street. Having a homicide on the sheets changes the game and I can now go after
Sequeira harder if I’m somehow able to put him with Calapez and Pousao. As
you’ll recall, though, they’re not talking.”

Annja heard the annoyance in Bart’s voice and sympathized.
“Before I ask for that favor, let me see if I can do one for you. Would your
Interpol buddies have a working relationship with the police in Odessa?”

“They might.”

“If I can get hold of Onoprienko, maybe I can hand him off to
local authorities who will get him to you.”

“No. Do not do that. Onoprienko is a killer. You’ve seen some
of his work firsthand. Forensics confirmed that the blunt object used to kill
Maurice Benyovszky was the hammer we found in Onoprienko’s apartment. Do
not
get around this guy.”

“If he has the elephant, that’s going to happen. If I get the
chance to capture him—”

“Do
not
!”

“—I was thinking it would be good to have someone to hand him
off to.” Annja paused. “Unless you’d rather I just let him go.”

Bart sighed. “I’ll see what I can do. You said you needed a
favor?”

“Yes. The storage unit the elephant came from belonged to a man
named Asaf—”

“Chislova. Yeah, we know, Annja. Sometimes we’re pretty good at
doing our jobs, too.”

“I can put you in touch with the granddaughter.”

“We’ve got her name, too.”

“Well, then here’s the favor. The granddaughter didn’t know
about the storage unit, or that it was lost. All she knew is that a lot of her
grandfather’s things disappeared. She’d like to have a few of them as
keepsakes.”

“Sure, I can arrange that. Benyovszky still had some of that
stuff in the storage unit he was using as a warehouse for the goods he was
selling on the internet.”

“Thanks. And if you can work out something in Odessa, let me
know who I should call.”

“What you should do is turn around and come back to New
York.”

Annja smiled, enjoying the fact that Bart cared, but she had
her own calling to tend to. “That’s not going to happen. I’ll be in touch when I
can.”

* * *

R
AO
WOKE
AND
had the distinct
feeling someone was watching him. Without moving, he scanned the economy-class
section of the plane, but there were no faces familiar to him that he could see.
He sat up a little straighter and looked in the back section.

Most of the passengers had nodded off, giving in to the long
flight. Only a few people remained awake. The adults worked on computers,
probably preparing presentations or crunching numbers for a project. The kids
played video games with rapt attention.

Unbuckling his seat belt, Rao walked back to the bathroom to
get a better look at everyone. No one seemed to have any undue interest in him,
but the feeling that he was being watched persisted.

Although he couldn’t pinpoint the watcher, Rao was certain that
he and Annja Creed were not alone on the flight.

Chapter 22

As the passenger jet began its approach to Odessa, Annja peered out the window and watched the large city grow closer. Odessa had always been an important port city on the Black Sea and in the surrounding region. It was one of the few warm-water ports in the area, and it had been a point of territorial aggression for hundreds of years.

Residential and business areas occupied neat blocks and geometric shapes marked off by tree-lined streets. The verdant growth was so robust that it looked like the commercial structures had sprouted trees, or that the trees were threatening to climb over the buildings. Nature and industry warred over space, and in that Annja saw a reflection of Odessa’s restless past.

Along the coast, docks thrust out into the harbor. Massive cranes moved like giant robotic arms to clutch cargo containers from the decks of ships and carry them to the docks where stevedores waited to move the goods where they belonged. A few boats sailed the water out beyond the commercial area marked off by buoys.

“Tell me what you see, Annja.”

Annja glanced over her shoulder at Klykov. He’d woken up shortly before the jet had begun its descent. “I thought you’d been to Odessa before.”

Klykov smiled. “I have. Many times. But I’m not talking about what you see below. Everybody sees that. That look I saw in your eyes in the reflection in the glass tells me you are looking at more than what is out there. Tell me what you see.”

“Odessa was settled by the Greeks. Some of the artifacts that have been found in the eastern Mediterranean are from the same time period as those found here. So I can see the Greeks here, flourishing with fields of olives and beautiful buildings.”

“Then where are these buildings?”

“They would have been destroyed by the Pechenegs and Cumans, the ancestors of the Ottoman Empire that fought so hard to reclaim Odessa. They won it back for a time, then lost it again to Catherine the Great. Sometime before Catherine’s armies took this place, the Mongols were led by Batu Khan, who was the grandson of Temujin, who became the greatest threat the civilized world had ever known at that time.”

“I do not know this person.”

“Temujin was known by another name. Genghis Khan.”

Klykov nodded. “That name I do know.”

“Batu Khan formed the Ulus of Jochi, and they were also known as the Golden Horde.”

“Because they came to rob the gold?”

“No. Because of the color of their tents.” Annja could almost see the Mongol campsites that had littered the hills. She could imagine the burning villages along the coast, the survivors huddling in fear at the savagery the invaders had displayed. “The Mongol language translates their name literally into Golden Horde, which some people think was due to the color of their tents, but for Mongols it probably simply meant ‘central camp.’ But legends grow up around such things. After the Mongols, the Ottoman Empire claimed the area.”

“Why?”

“For the same reason Odessa is so important today. It’s a warm-water port this far north. Trade can get through. The military can get in. Back before planes changed the geography of war, the lines were drawn by accessibility. You can’t march an army into enemy territory without a supply line. Once you get into Ukraine, you can go east into Russia, or west into Europe. The country has been in the center of some particularly nasty military operations, and many of them were staged here.”

The seat-belt sign flashed on, followed by the captain’s orders to buckle them.

Annja secured her seat belt, still lost in the history of the place, aware that Klykov was listening intently. “For a while, the Ottoman Empire took control of the city, but they couldn’t hold it against the Russians. Catherine the Great named the city Odessa because they believed it was the site of the Greek city Odessos. Later, historians found out that probably wasn’t accurate. Odessos was more likely over in Bulgaria, near Varna. Catherine built the city on the bones of Khadzhibey, the prior Turkish town. The Ottoman Empire and Catherine the Great fought over Odessa for a while, but Catherine’s forces held the city.”

The plane banked and began a sharper descent. Below, the surface of the Black Sea grew close enough to see the chop of the waves.

“You know many things, and it is interesting to hear them.” Klykov’s eyes twinkled and his smile was broad. “You have a remarkable mind, young lady.”

Annja shook her head. “What’s remarkable is history. Anyone who studies it can open up whole worlds, each different and exciting. They can be as small as an Englishwoman trying to make a living after the Napoleonic War when the men returned from the army, or as large as the World War II campaigns. I can take someone from now and put them in the shoes of someone who lived thousands of years ago, show them that the daily concerns and needs and fears are pretty much the same. Despite the fact that hundreds or thousands of years separate a person of today from someone in the past, if I do it right, they can feel what it’s like to live that person’s life. That’s why I love what I do.”

“It is always good to have passion. I have always said this. Life without passion is nothing.” Klykov looked through the window once again. The jet sailed on toward the airport, and the runway was only a few feet below them. “Soon we will have that elephant you are searching for, and then you will find more stories to tell,
da
?”

“I hope so.” The jet’s tires hit the runway and Annja resisted the forward momentum the reduced airspeed caused.

* * *

W
HILE
WAITING
AT
the car rental agency, Klykov called his contact, Fedotov the fence, and talked quickly in Russian. Annja couldn’t pick up enough of what was said to know for certain what was going on. She tried not to let herself become anxious, but that was difficult. There was no way to know if Onoprienko was going to actually show up at the place, or if Fedotov could keep Onoprienko there.

There was also the possibility that Fedotov would tell Onoprienko that people were there looking for him so that he could renegotiate the amount he’d agreed to pay for the elephant. The fence was a thief, after all.

While she stood a short distance away, a Hispanic woman approached her with a travel book in one hand and a hopeful expression on her face. She was in her midthirties, dressed conservatively and wore little makeup. She didn’t need it. She was a pretty woman without it. She wore her hair cropped short and stood almost as tall as Annja.

“Pardon me,” she said in English with a definite Western accent. “Have you been to Odessa before?”

“I have.”

“It’s my first time and I feel pretty lost.”

“Where are you trying to go?”

“I’m supposed to meet some friends at a restaurant called Ode to Odessa?”

Annja nodded. “I’ve been there. It’s a good place to eat. It’s located just a short distance off Deribasovskaya Street.”

“That’s one of the main streets?”

“Yes. It’s in the center of the city.”

Annja found the restaurant on the map easily and pointed to it. “Here. Are you taking a cab or a rental?”

“I was thinking of renting a car.”

“Okay, in that case you’ll need to plan your parking. Deribasovskaya Street is purely pedestrian traffic.”

“All right. Thank you.”

“If you’ve got time later, I’d advise a sightseeing trip to the park.” Annja shifted her finger to another place on the map. “The park was built at the turn of the nineteenth century. There are a lot of monuments to document the city’s history, including a sculpture of a lion and lioness with cubs.”

“For
The Twelve Chairs
, right? The story about the hidden jewelry?”

“You know your literature.”

The woman laughed. “I teach at San Antonio, Texas’, English Department. Emphasis on foreign literature. I read the book on the plane during the flight. I’m here for a conference on Russian lit.”

Annja nodded. “Well, I hope you enjoy your stay.”

“Thank you. And you do the same.” She smiled and walked away, merging with the foot traffic leaving the terminal. Thinking about the park and the restaurant, Annja wished she was there on a less stressful agenda. She’d enjoyed her time in Odessa, and there was still so much of the city she hadn’t seen.

Finally, Klykov hung up and turned to Annja with a smile. “You are tour guide,
da
?”

“I don’t mean to be, but I like this city.”

“Maybe we will take a day or two after we get the elephant for you. A celebration.”

“Only if we have something to celebrate.”

“Fedotov says Onoprienko has been in touch with him. Onoprienko is in the country now. He has been for a couple of hours. So far Fedotov has been able to keep Onoprienko waiting.”

“Is Onoprienko there with your friend?”

“Annja.” Klykov’s face turned grim. “Something you must keep in mind. Fedotov is no friend of mine. He is an acquaintance. A man who does business, who keeps his eye on the bottom line at all times. You understand this,
da
?”

Annja nodded.

“I am sure Fedotov will not betray us or I would never endanger you by taking you there. Fedotov has no real honor, but he does have a very strong self-preservation instinct. He likes to live and he likes to eat. He knows that if he tries to betray me, I will have him killed.” Klykov didn’t try to put a polite face on things. That should have bothered Annja more than it did, but these were dangerous men. “Even if I do not live through his betrayal, Fedotov’s death would come as surely as winter in Russia.”

“I understand, Leonid. Don’t worry about me so much. I can take care of myself.” Annja thrust her hands in the long coat that hung to midcalf. The weather was a little warmer here than in New York, but that was only while they were in the city. If they traveled far from the coast, the temperature would drop.

“It is my job to worry about you when I bring you here,” Klykov said. “I do not think this policeman friend of yours would allow me to get you hurt and not take umbrage with me.”

“Probably not.” Admitting that made Annja feel good.

The car rental clerk handed a set of keys to Klykov and they spoke in Russian while the clerk pointed them in the right direction. Klykov nodded and then handed the keys to Annja.

“You will drive. I have always liked being the passenger in a car. I can sightsee.”