The Libra Affair (33 page)

The police car sped past two vehicles and a delivery truck, then fell in behind Sonya's car, so she pulled over. “Do me a favor? Just sit there and don't say a word. Can you do that for me?”

“I think I can manage that.”

“And try to look like you're not well.” She winked at him.

“That won't be a problem.”

“And stop worrying.” She rubbed his leg. “I've got this. All right?”

“If you say so.” He forced a smile.

“Relax.”

Sonya found her papers, then rolled down her window and watched in her side mirror as the officer approached. He was young, cocky, and strutted like a peacock in mating season, but she was armed with her usual arsenal of appeal, which made her quite ready for the young, spunky lad.

“May I have your license and registration, please,” the officer said when he reached the driver's side door.

“Good morning, officer,” Sonya said to the man.

The officer nodded respectfully.

“It's a nice day for a ride,” she added.

“Yes,” he agreed, then rested his hand on the car. “May I have your papers?” he asked again.

“Yes, of course.” She handed him the documents as she took note of the fact that he lacked the old ball and chain tied to the finger on his left hand, so she stole second base by throwing him one of her dirty little smiles that said,
I'm free, so let's skip dinner
.

“Officer Zaran,” she said as her eyes swept a look over him from head to toe, “is there something I can do for you? I am quite certain I was not speeding.”

“No, ma'am. I got a call — ”

“I know, Officer Tavaazo.”

Zaran repositioned his weight. “Right, yeah, well,” he clumsily replied, which gave her enough time to take the lead.

“All you need to see are my papers to know that you are not permitted to detain me or write me one of those horrible citations. I'm sure you already know that from the academy,” she added.

“Yes, but that's not — ”

“I'm sorry,” she said. “I didn't mean to imply that you were new to the force. You probably don't have the opportunity to see many female diplomats traveling through your area.” She looked beyond the officer toward the racetrack. “Next time,” she said, looking back into his eyes. “I think I'm going to stay long enough to go to the horse races. I hear it can be quite an enjoyable experience with the right companion.”

“Yes, it can be,” he said, taking the bait.

“Before I go, you don't happen to have a card, Officer Zaran?” She dipped a shoulder, pouting like a sex kitten. “I'm sorry you're not going to be able to write me that citation. You know, I have — ”

His chest rose. “Diplomatic immunity,” he answered for her.

“But let me make it up to you. If you ever get to Tehran, make a point of visiting the Russian Embassy. I'd be happy to give you the tour myself. We have some extraordinary pieces of art on display.”

“I'll do that.” The officer returned her papers, wearing an expression that could only mean he was making a mental note of a particular date and time.

“Please give my regards to Officer Tavaazo. You know, he's with his doctor now. And if I were the guessing type,” she lowered her voice, “I think he must have caught some nasty little infection.” She a made a pronounced gesture that could speak only to Tavaazo's promiscuous behavior.

The officer's eyes widened a beat, but he said nothing more than, “Drive safely.”

“Don't forget to call next time you're in Tehran,” she told him again before she rolled up her window. The young lad was doable and tasty. Moreover, he needed
her
more than he could possibly know.

Ben looked over his shoulder and watched as the officer returned to his vehicle. When they were a good fifty yards away, he asked, “How do you do that?”

Playing coy, all she said was, “Pardon?”

“That,” he reiterated, nodding back toward the officer.

“Oh, that,” she acknowledged. “Comes naturally, at least for Russian women.”

A few moments later, Sonya stole a look at Ben and saw that he was gripping his stomach. “You can relax now,” she told him.

“Doing my best,” he replied in a rough voice.

She realized he was in pain. At the traffic light, waiting to turn onto the highway toward Mashhad and then onto Sarakhs, she released her seatbelt and reached into the backseat, where she grabbed a spare pillow and blanket. “Here,” she said as she handed him the items. “Why don't you try to get some rest? We've got a long ride in front of us.”

“What about calling Jordan?”

“She can wait.”

• • •

Sonya touched Ben's thigh to wake him. “I think we are here.” She spoke softly.

He opened his eyes. They were at a storage facility. “Couldn't be too soon,” he said in a hoarse voice.

“There's your girlfriend.”

Jordan stood at the opening of a unit.

Ben had both anticipated and dreaded the moment he would see her again. He suddenly felt heavy-chested and struggled to breathe.

Sonya parked the car alongside the unit and without waiting, she got out of the car and headed toward the trunk.

Stiff from the ride, he was slow to open his door.

Jordan greeted Sonya with only a wave as she walked directly to Ben.

Not moving, he studied Jordan's every move: her stride, her expression, and the way she carried herself. There was nothing noticeably different about her. She was Jordan, the woman he knew.

He swallowed and drew in a deep breath, preparing himself for what he would say to her.

What baffled him most now was how he hadn't seen or acknowledged this other side of Jordan, this other character she played. Or
had
he recognized her powerful undertones — her silent and masterful ability to direct and lead — and just kept her nature to himself as his prized jewel?

It wasn't like she'd needed to scale buildings with him over the past year or run jailbreaks or heists for him to see who she really was. She hadn't changed. She was still Jordan, his Jordan. The girl he knew and adored. What she did for a living was inconsequential — a dry cleaner girl, a secret agent, whatever — because all Ben had ever cared about was the woman she was to him. But that was all over now. If she couldn't commit, then he would go no further.

When Jordan reached his door, she pulled it open. “You look tired,” she said.

“I am,” was all he could say in response. His heart was beating against the irons of his chest.

“I'm glad you made it.”

“Yeah, well,” he tried sliding out, “we had a few hurdles along the way.”

Jordan took his arm. “Did you?”

“That officer — ”

He stopped speaking as he stood, feeling overwhelmed with pain and fatigue.

“The one from the beach?” she asked.

“Yeah.” He swallowed hard. “That's the one. He was the first one anyway.”

“What happened?”

He told her what had happened with Tavaazo showing up at the hospital that morning and then with the other officer pulling them over.

Farrokh and Isbel emerged from the unit. When Isbel saw Ben, she called his name, and with the help of her father, she began hobbling toward him.

Jordan turned to Ben. “Give me a second, I'll be right back.”

“No problem,” he replied.

• • •

When Jordan reached Sonya, Sonya was first to speak. “You're keeping secrets,” she said to her, restraining her anger.

Jordan started to explain. “We need him.”

“Dead,” Sonya replied in a harsh whisper.

“No, there's been a change.”

“Would you care to explain?”

“Chou showed up in Mashhad when we were leaving. He tried to kill me and the girl. Or so it seemed. He took the first shot. It all happened so fast.”

“Any reason why I'm only hearing about this for the first time now?”

“Look,” Jordan maintained her cool, “Farrokh's with me. Let's just leave it at that and I won't complain about the incident back at the bazaar.”

Sonya just stared at her, which was proof enough for Jordan of her involvement. Jordan knew Sonya wanted Farrokh out of the picture; he had too much on her, but maybe there was more Jordan didn't know about the two of them. It didn't matter.

“It's gotten complicated,” Jordan said.

“Yes, it has.” Sonya snarled her words. “So why put more risk into play? And what about Chou?”

“Chou's dead,” Jordan explained.

“What do you think the Chinese will do when they find out about this?”

“They won't.”

“That's not likely.”

“Take my word for it, there's no trace left of the man. Farrokh took care of him.”

Sonya crossed her arms. “Someone will find him and when they do, the DNA will speak for itself.”

“There won't be any DNA to find.”

Their eyes locked.

“Okay, look,” Jordan started to explain. “Here's the situation. We've been listening in on shortwave radio. Those guys out there in the desert are changing coordinates so fast you can't keep a finger on them from one hour to the next. And the fact of the matter is, I need Farrokh.”

“Do you?” Sonya clearly wasn't buying it.

“It's not like I planned this. When the man showed up, I told him to hit the road. But then Chou happened and it only made good sense to keep him around to help secure the situation. And look, when this is over, the Chinese are going to hear from me that I took care of the liability.”

“You really think he's reliable? He left once, he'll leave again.”

“He's in.”

“So we're back to Plan A?”

“Something like that.”

“You're going to need a lot more than a driver and camouflage.”

“You go with what you got.”

“So tell me, Jordan, what's a driver, his young daughter, and a sick man going to do for you other than slow you down and get you killed?”

“Stand watch. Create a decoy.”

“Honestly, Jordan, your boy is a burden.”

“I need your help,” Jordan finally admitted.

“No.”

“I need you to get the girl and Ben over the border.”

Sonya dug in her heels. “When does it ever end with you, Jordan?”

“I don't know, ask Snake where it ends.” Jordan hated to keep throwing Snake back in Sonya's face, but he was the one at the top calling the shots, and he was the one who she'd bend over backwards to please. Jordan instinctively knew that Snake had ordered her to do whatever was necessary to accomplish this mission — successfully.

Sonya stood with a hand on her hip. “You have a few hours. Take them yourself.”

“I can't do this without you.”

“So load them up, I'll take them now.” Sonya pointed to the desert.

“You know it's not that simple. I've got to get Ben to reprogram the experiment.”

Sonya handed Jordan the case with the laptop. “Make it fast.”

“I didn't want all this,” Jordan tried to explain. “It just happened.”

“You go on and believe that, Jordan, but you and I both know this is not how the game is played.”

Back at the car, Farrokh was translating for Isbel, who was busy telling Ben how happy she was to see him and how everything was going to be all right.

Sonya and Jordan joined them.

“I'm sorry,” Jordan said to everyone. “The tea party's over. Ben and I have work to do.”

Jordan turned to Sonya. “Is there any chance you could take Isbel somewhere to get her cleaned up? She really needs some attention.”

Sonya looked at the girl. “Yes. I can see that.”

“That would be so kind of you,” Farrokh said.

“And bring her back alive and well.” Jordan felt confident now Sonya would drive Ben and Isbel over the border.

Sonya took Isbel by the arm. “You have such an odd sense of humor, Jordan. I'll bring her back in the morning.”

• • •

Farrokh helped Ben to the table at the end of the unit.

“I'm sorry it's not more comfortable for you,” Jordan said to him once they were seated.

“I'll manage,” he replied.

Jordan touched his arm. “How are you feeling?” she asked him in a soft voice.

“Jarred.”

“I'm sure the ride didn't help.” She rubbed his arm to show him her affection, but he promptly removed her hand from his arm.

“It's okay, Jordan. I'll get through this,” he told her in a dry voice.

“Ben … ” She wanted to say how she felt, but the words were trapped inside of her.

“I appreciate your concern,” he said, “but I think it'd be best if we both focused on the task at hand.”

Hurt, but realizing emotions couldn't play a part in this, Jordan twisted her body toward the computer screen. “Right,” she said. “We need to log on to NASA.”

“Let me do it,” he said.

Jordan slid the laptop to him and Ben began punching in the information. The NASA page appeared, asking for a user name and password. Ben typed in his code and they waited while the widget danced around the screen.

“Does it always take this long?” she asked.

“No, but it's not like I've ever tried dialing up from a foreign country either.”

“Let's hope that's not an issue.”

“The server is verifying all the jumps before it grants access. If it sees something it doesn't like — ”

Ben stopped. The screen registered
Access Denied.

“Ah, brother.” He tapped a fist on the table. “I was afraid of this.”

“Call your friend Kara, see if she'll help.”

“Speaking of friends, Jordan, let's talk about your friends with the CIA,” he said. “I'd like to know exactly what's going on here before I lift another finger.”