The Prague Plot: The Cold War Meets the Jihad (Jeannine Ryan Series Book 3) (9 page)

“Anne, there’s nothing more we can do here. I have to go back to Maryland. You should come too.”

Anne looked away.

“Peter, go! Whatever Vaclav wanted to tell you, it’s too late.”

“But what will you do?”

“I need to be alone. I have decisions to make.”

“At least call Mila. Let her know you are all right.”

“Mila! Forget her! Good bye, Peter.”

She pushed him out the door.

This conversation was over.

Early morning, and Aileen Harris sat, lost in thought, in the office of Ryan Associates.

She looked up as Jeannine, coffee in hand, came down the stairs.

“Aileen, you’re early. Where’s Mary Catherine?”

“At church with my mother. I couldn’t stop thinking about that package from Vaclav Pokorny. It worries me.”

Aileen spread the newspapers from Vaclav’s package on her desk.

“There’s something about these newspapers I didn’t notice yesterday. Some of them are marked up. Look.”

Aileen picked up the English-language paper, the Prague Post.

“Someone underlined parts of this article about chemical weapons, organophosphate chemicals that block Cholinesterase from breaking down Acetylcholine. They’re called ‘Novichok Agents.’”

Jeannine looked. Various words in the articles were underlined, some were circled.

“What about the other newspapers?”

“They’re marked up too, but they’re either in Russian or Czech. I have no idea what they are about. If Peter were here, he could help, at least with the Czech.”

“But he’s not. What are these ‘Novichok Agents?’”

“They’re nerve gas agents, the so-called ‘newcomers.’ The Russians developed them to be undetectable by the tests that NATO had then, and to be effective against NATO’s gas masks.”

She took a breath and continued.

“We only found about them after the Wall went down. A Soviet chemist, Vil Mirzayanov, revealed their existence. He had worked on the agents and was concerned about environmental contamination. For that, the Russians put him in Lefortovo Prison, but they had to release him since he had only reported publicly available information. Mirzayanov published his experiences in a book with Outskirts Press in 2009. It’s title is
State Secrets
. I read it.”

“Aileen, how did you get into this?”

“I’m an electrophysiologist, remember. I did a lot of work with nerve cells, cholinergic receptors, acetylcholine,
etc.
Nerve agents block the esteric site on cholinesterase where acetylcholine normally attaches to be broken down. Consequently the acetylcholine doesn’t break down, but accumulates and remains attached to receptors in the wall of the nerve cell, receptors that admit positive Sodium ions. That causes the Sodium channels to stay open, and keep the nerve cell in a refractory state. No more excitation is possible. Bang, you’re dead, or at least very sick.”

Jeannine gaped at her partner.

“Slow down. I’m not a biologist.”

“But I am going slow. I didn’t tell you about the two types of cholinergic receptors, nicotinic and muscarinic and their different effects. They ... .”

Jeannine grimaced and held up her hands.

“I surrender.”

“OK, OK. Novichok compounds work the same way. They block cholinesterase from breaking down acetylcholine. There are many of them, but Novichok-5 and -7 are said to be really deadly, maybe eight times more so than VX, the gas Saddam Hussein probably used on the Kurds in Iraq.”

Aileen frowned and continued.

“There’s disagreement about the formulas for both Novichok-5 and Novichok-7.”

Jeannine broke in.

“Enough. We don’t know who marked these papers, but what could Novichok agents have to do with Xolak?”

“It beats me. Maybe something or maybe nothing at all.”

Aileen shook herself.

“But if Hus-Kinetika is producing nerve agents, we have a lot more to worry about than Xolak.”

In Wanchese, Anne Simek knocked on the kitchen door of Bordens’ bed and breakfast. Kate Borden let her in.

“Annie, where is your gentleman friend?”

“Miss Katie, that didn’t work out.”

“I’m sorry honey, truly I am. Here sit with me and have some coffee. I’ll turn down the TV.”

“Miss Katie, you didn’t go into my room to clean did you.”

“You told me not to and I didn’t. It’s however you left it.”

Anne thought of the bloody sink. She had to scrub the bathroom and clean the stained sheets. She wanted to eliminate all traces of blood. She finished her coffee and stood up.

“Miss Katie, I’d like to stay a few days longer.”

“Of course, honey. I’ll get you fresh towels and linens.”

“Don’t bother, I have my own. And don’t worry about the room. I’ll make do for today.”

She moved to go upstairs. Mrs. Borden upped the volume on the TV. The announcer’s voice stopped Anne in her tracks.

Anne paled.

“Honey, what’s the matter? Are you all right?”

“I’m fine, Miss Katie. I’m just tired. I think I’ll go rest.”

Anne went up to Vaclav’s room. She was tired, but rest was impossible on “that” bed. She stripped the sheets off. Then she reattached the door hinge. Finally, with rubber gloves and cleaner in hand, she scrubbed the bathroom sink and floor.

She worked hard all afternoon. Her knees were sore after scrubbing floor tiles for an hour. The skin of her hands had red blotches that matched, in part, the holes worn in her rubber gloves from strenuous rubbing. As far as she could tell, Vaclav’s bathroom was spotless.

She had achieved her goal. The bathroom sink and tiles were free of visual traces of blood. She poured the last bucket of dirty water down the toilet. Then she sat on the edge of the tub and wept.

In the Red Roof Motel on Shady Grove Road in Rockville, Maryland, a disheveled Johan Zeleny finished lunch in his room. On the end table, a near-empty vodka bottle lay on its side dribbling its remains onto the wood.

His phone rang. It was his son, Peter.

“The clinic in Chicago gave me your message. I’m still in North Carolina. Did you talk to Dr. Harris?”

“I talked to her. She knew nothing. Your cell phone wasn’t working, so I called Chicago.”

“It’s charged now. What do you want?”

“My friend, Gustav, wants you to meet him in Maryland.”

“Father, Gustav is an assassin. He killed Vaclav!”

“Don’t you want to see your father?”

“Yes, but why are you with Gustav?”

“We represent a Czech company.”

“Not Hus-Kinetika? You hate capitalists.”

“These are changed times. We cannot always choose the company we keep. Even Hus-Kinetika has good projects. Some of my old comrades work there.”

“Like Karel Moravec?”

“Moravec is a swine. He was in the Party, but never believed. His grandfather was a Nazi, a friend of Reinhard Heydrich.”

“But Gustav?”

“You are wrong about Gustav. He did not kill Vaclav, Karel’s men did that.”

Johan continued.

“Peter, do not forget how Gustav helped us when you were a boy. He believes you can help him against Moravec. You must meet him here, tomorrow.”

“But what can I do?”

“He thinks Simek will tell you where Vaclav’s papers are.”

“Anne doesn’t know about the papers. Besides, she won’t see me.”

“She is a liar, like her father. Simeks are not capable of the truth. But she is our only possibility. Patekova gave Vaclav’s carryon bag to Gustav. Gustav tore it apart. It had nothing.”

Johan swept the vodka bottle off the table. It bounced on the soft carpet with a dull thump. His voice rose.

“Simek has the documents. Find out where. Don’t anger Gustav. We are old comrades, but I can’t control him.”

“What of my complaint against Hus-Kinetika and Xolak. I cannot drop that.”

“That is no concern to Gustav or me.”

“All right father. I’ll be there tomorrow.”

Johan took a breath.

“And Peter, do not get attached to the Simek woman. She is Havel Simek’s daughter.”

Peter hung up.

Minutes later, Gustav Slavik entered Johan’s room. He noticed the empty bottle of vodka on the floor and frowned.

Johan Zeleny waved him to sit. Gustav remained standing.

“Well Jan, you and I again. It is like old times, is it not? Tell me, will Peter help us?”

“Of course. He is my son.”

“Good. But Jan, Karel’s men once were our comrades. They are ruthless. Does Peter know how to use this?”

Gustav held out a 9 mm Makarov.

“He stopped practicing with me after his second year of Medical School. I doubt he’s shot a weapon since.”

“All right, I won’t count on him.”

Gustav put the Makarov away and went to the door.

“Make sure Peter is here tomorrow. And Jan, that company, Ryan Associates, the one with the Harris woman that you met, what is Peter’s connection with them?”

“Peter wanted their help to prove that Hus-Kinetika lied about Xolak. Harris told me they can prove that the Xolak data are faked. Harris and Ryan only know about Xolak.”

“You’d better be right. But you didn’t tell Peter they had proof that Hus-Kinetika fabricated the Xolak data. Why not?”

“Aileen Harris didn’t like me, so I didn’t help her.”

Gustav frowned.
Jan, you’re too old for women now.

“It’s set then. I’ll be back tomorrow to see Peter.”

Johan nodded in acquiescence. Gustav grinned.

“Jan, better go easy on the ladies.”

But his real concern was the bottle on the floor. Johan’s vodka could be a real problem.

Gustav went to his own room. The door was labeled “non smoking.”
Stupid Americans
. He improvised an ashtray using a plastic cup from the bathroom. Then he shut off the lights and sat motionless in the dark. After a minute, the tip of his cigarette shone orange, the only bright spot in the shadows.

Vodka made Johan weak and Karel Moravec was formidable. To face him, Gustav needed strong allies. He inhaled. The tip of his cigarette crinkled brighter orange. Then he made his decision. His enemies, the money-grubbing Americans, would bring Moravec down!

In the days of the Iron Curtain, Gustav had worked diligently against the corrupt capitalists, but he knew which Americans could defeat Karel. And he knew where to find them, at that Cold War CIA stronghold, the American Embassy in Vienna.

Gustav would made them an offer they could not refuse.

He sat and texted a message to Vienna.

Done!

Jeannine Ryan stood in the office of Ryan Associates. Her face was as red as her hair.

“Damn it, Aileen, Larry Hodges won’t return my messages. That’s my third call to the FDA.”

“It’s Monday morning, he’s probably in meetings.”

“Sure, that must be the reason, right? The fact that he’s a wimp doesn’t enter the equation? Look, it’s simple. He’s afraid of his boss at FDA. He wanted proof about Xolak, and now that we have it, he’s afraid to see it. He might have to act.”

Aileen nodded.

“Unfortunately, you’re one hundred per cent correct.”

The phone rang. Jeannine’s eyes lit with hope. She picked up.

“Ryan Associates.”

Jeannine listened a moment and hung up.”

“It wasn’t Larry, only a salesman.”

“Jeannine, you can’t count on Larry to return your call. You just have to keep calling. The FDA has to know about Xolak.”

Mila pulled her SUV up to the Currituck County Medical Examiner’s office. She sat in silence. She did not want to look at any dead body, especially one that had been in the water, but she would perform her duty.
Is it Vaclav?

At that thought, guilt overwhelmed her.
Why did
I arrange the meeting with Anne?
Her shoulders slumped and her eyes filled with tears. A tap on the car window brought her to the present.

It was Jim Harrigan.

“Aren’t you coming in? The attendant is waiting.”

Mila swallowed and clicked the lock open. Jim opened the door.

“It won’t take long. We’re grateful to you for doing this.”

Mila choked. She did not risk speaking. Jim took her arm.

Inside, the morgue attendant led them into a restricted area. The room was cold and bare. Mila shivered.

Next to the wall was a metal table. On it was a dark bag, whose contours matched the form of a human body. Jim took Mila’s arm and guided her to it.

She stood rigid, eyes fixed on the silent plastic.

The attendant unzipped the top to reveal a gray, disfigured face. Something, perhaps crabs, had plucked the eyes. She knew those features, bloated as they were.

Mila gagged. She covered her mouth with her hands and backed away.

Her eyes turned to Jim. Her voice was a whisper.

“Jim, it’s Vaclav. That’s Vaclav Pokorny.”

She broke into tears.

After Mila recovered her composure, Jim led her outside the Medical Examiner’s Office. He pointed to the F250.

“You’re in no shape to drive. Ride in my truck. We can pick up your SUV later.”

“No Jim, I’m fine now, really. Besides, it’s too far to come back here. Don’t you have to work?”

“Not until tonight. If you must drive your car, let me follow you to Nags Head. We can grab some coffee together, and maybe a doughnut.”

At that, Mila paused.
A doughnut?

“Not this time, Jim. I have to get back to the realty office, and I still haven’t talked to Anne. She left a message to call. I did, but she hasn’t called again.”

Jim’s brow furrowed.

“You know the police will be looking for Anne now. They need to question her about Vaclav’s shooting.”

“She’s not a suspect, is she?”

“At the moment she is a person of interest. Beyond that, I can’t say.”

“But Jim, Gustav shot Vaclav, Anne tried to save him.”

“I believe you, but they need proof. Gustav isn’t available. You should get Anne to come in. They want answers.”

“She doesn’t return my calls. Don’t you trust me?”

“I do, but the police don’t. She should call them.”

“Jim, you’re a cop. Anne is my cousin. I know her. I know she did not shoot Vaclav. And I know Gustav was not lying. I know he shot him.”

Jim Harrigan looked at his feet.

“Mila, I don’t know about Anne and Vaclav, but I do know you. And I saw the men who wrecked your rooms. They’re professionals. I’m afraid for you.”

“For me? How about Anne. The next body I identify may be hers.”

Before meeting with his father and Gustav, Peter Zeleny took a room at a Rockville hotel. Once settled, he went straight to the lounge where he ordered a Scotch on the Rocks, and sipped slowly. He needed to think.

Two gulps later, he took out his phone and called Ryan Associates.

There was no answer. He left no message.

For a moment, he studied the ice cubes that remained in his glass. Then he ordered another Scotch.

He downed it immediately. His decision made, he punched the number of Anne Simek’s cell phone.

“Peter, why are you calling? I thought you went back to Maryland?”

“I’m in Maryland now, but something has come up. I need to meet you. It’s about Vaclav.”

“They found his body in Currituck Sound.”

“Anne, I saw the TV. They haven’t identified the body. You don’t know it was Vaclav.”

“It was him. I know it. Those killers finished him, or they would have called me at the Junction. Anyway, what do you want? You know I don’t want your help.”

“Anne, I have to see you. Where are you?”

“I’m in North Carolina. That’s all you need to know.”

“Fine, but how can we meet?”

“Why?”

“Anne, you’re in danger. I want to help.”

“Oh come on Peter. Why would a Zeleny help a Simek? What would your father say?”

Peter winced.

“Wait Anne, I mean it, those killers think Vaclav passed his secrets to you.”

“Then why didn’t they call me at Whalebone Junction. They didn’t! But you know that. You were my backup. They don’t care about me.”

She added.

“Besides, I told you before, Vaclav gave me nothing. The only thing I know about those so-called ‘secret documents,’ is that I don’t have them,”

“Look Anne, you’re in danger. We have to meet. I’ll come anywhere.”

Anne was silent for several seconds.

“I’ll think about it, Peter.”

“But Anne?”

“Goodbye, Peter.”

She broke the call.

Peter stared numbly at the bar. He lifted two fingers at the bartender.

He needed another Scotch, a double.

At Bordens’ bed and breakfast in Wanchese, Anne put her phone in her traveling bag. She took a last look around the room. Satisfied, she tiptoed down the stairs, and out the door.

Anne twinged at deceiving Mrs. Borden, but she had never intended to stay longer, even though she had paid in advance. In spite of the bravado she had shown Peter, she knew that Vaclav’s killers were at large. She was not safe here. She must disappear.

Anne’s confidence, ill-placed or not, lay in her ignorance of Vaclav’s purpose. He had not given her anything. Once the killers confirmed that truth, they would leave her alone.

At her car, she put her traveling bag on the back seat, next to her computer.

She gasped.

An inconspicuous green rectangle protruded from the USB port on the side of her laptop.

It was a small drive, a
TUFF-‘N’-TINY™
with 4 Gigabytes of memory, barely noticeable.

It was not Anne’s. She had never seen it before.

Then she understood. Evidently, Vaclav had been inside the beach house before his assailant arrived. He had inserted the memory into her laptop. His critical papers and files were on the USB drive.

My God, I have the files!

Anne shifted and drove away, fast!

At the Red Roof Inn in Rockville, Johan Zeleny answered the door. Peter entered.

“Father, Anne Simek won’t tell me where she is. She doesn’t want to meet me either.”

Johan was silent. Peter added.

“I tell you, she won’t listen to me.”

Johan’s mind raced.

“Never mind, Peter. I’ll explain to Gustav. Go back to your hotel.”

Peter exhaled in relief, but his father continued.

“Peter, lend me your phone for the afternoon. I have several calls to make and my SIM card isn’t working here. I’ll give it back to you this evening.”

Peter hesitated, but handed the phone to his father.

He left.

Some minutes later, Gustav appeared at the door. Before he could enter, Johan spoke.

“The Simek woman won’t tell Peter where she is. And she won’t meet with him either.”

“Your son lacks persistence. He has no understanding. He worries about that woman’s feelings.”

“True. Peter is not like us. He grew up under the ‘Velvet’ government. He is naive and soft.”

Gustav thought of Ivana. He needed to trade the papers for her safety.

“Tell Peter he must meet her. There is no other way. I must find Simek before Karel’s men do. Do not fail me Johan.”

Johan swallowed hard. He knew what Gustav was capable of.

“Wait. I have Peter’s phone. It has Simek’s number. If she doesn’t call him back soon, we will call her ourselves.”

In Prague, Ivana Novotna stared at her desk. She had worked hard all day. Her meeting with Karel was scheduled for five, but something was wrong. Karel’s men had not called her. Plus, there had been no message from Gustav. She had nothing to report to her boss on his most important project.

Not good, Ivana. Not good.

She checked her hair in the mirror. Satisfied, she stood up, smoothed her skirt, and straightened her blouse. Then she walked down the corridor to Karel’s office.

She knocked lightly on the door and stepped into the spacious high-walled office. When she was ten feet from the massive desk, Karel looked up.

He was pleased. Ivana’s reports were a highlight of his day, but not because of their content. He enjoyed their beautiful photogenic author.

“Ivana, dearest. You are radiant tonight.”

“Thank you, but I must tell you, I have not heard from your team in North Carolina.”

Karel smiled broadly.

“No matter. They have reported to me. And at the moment they are in Maryland, not North Carolina. I expect to hear from them shortly.”

He paused. Furrows creased his forehead.

“But why would they not keep you informed? Is there something I should know?”

Ivana’s knees wanted to shake, but she controlled them. She was expert at concealing emotions from this man. She answered.

“I have not heard from Gustav either.”

Karel’s brow smoothed. He smiled.

“That is because Gustav failed, as I told you he would. But that is not your fault. I know that you will learn from his failure, as I told you.”

Karel stared. Ivana did not smile. She stood motionless. The plaster angels on the ceiling overhead likewise did not move.

Finally, Karel shifted in his seat.

“Ivana, do not trouble yourself. Smile. You know that I need you.”

Absently, he rubbed a spot on the walnut desk to a dark sheen. He admired his handiwork. Then he spoke softly.

“Tonight we shall dine at the Zlaty Andel Restaurant at the Hotel Barceló. Would that please you?”

She dared not say no. She nodded affirmatively.

“Good. Now I have work to do. I will meet you at the restaurant at seven.”

He shuffled the papers on his desk.

Ivana left.

In Kitty Hawk, North Carolina, Anne Simek trudged upwards along the path to the Wright Brothers’ Memorial. As she neared the massive stone monument, she paused, hands on her hips, and caught her breath.

The climb cleared her mind. Vaclav’s memory chip changed everything. She swallowed her pride and clicked the number of Peter Zeleny’s phone.

The man that answered had a Czech accent stronger than Peter’s.

“Who is this? Where is Peter?”

“This is a friend of his. Is this Miss Simek?”

“Yes.”

“Peter hoped you would call. He wanted me to find out where he could meet you. He is desperate to see you. Are you in North Carolina?”

“Yes.”

“He’ll come meet you. He can be in North Carolina tonight.”

“Who is this? What is your name?”

Here Gustav made a mistake.

“I am a friend of Peter’s and of his father, Johan.”

At the name of Peter’s father, Anne recoiled. She recalled her father’s countless admonitions about Johan Zeleny. Gustav misinterpreted her silence. He added for emphasis.