Deliver Us From Evil (37 page)

K
ATIE
J
AMES
kept waking up. It was nothing unusual; it was just how she was. A noise here, an internal thought there, a nightmare that
seemed so real she could touch it, kept hammering away. She finally rose, got some water and settled in an armchair, flicked
on a reading light, and picked up the latest Lee Child thriller.

The phone ringing startled her. She automatically checked her watch. It was nearly midnight. She debated whether to answer
it. This wasn’t her home after all. But it might be Roberta calling. She looked at the caller ID on the readout screen. Nothing.
She hesitated again, but then picked up the phone.

“Yes?”

“Is Roberta in?”

“Who’s calling?”

“Is this Roberta?”

That was odd. If they knew Roberta they should know it was not Roberta’s voice. “Who’s calling?” she asked again, but the
line went dead.

Unnerved, she quickly went to check that the front and back doors were locked. With that secured she grabbed a poker from
the fireplace and went back into the bedroom and closed the door behind her. She eyed her cell phone. She could call Shaw
if she simply hit redial. But he was probably thousands of miles away and in no position to come watch over her. And he might
not want to anyway.

The hand was around her mouth before she could scream. The poker was ripped from her grip along with her cell phone. The smell
was awful, making her nostrils clench.

A moment later Katie collapsed.

The pounding in her head was fierce. Her eyes opened and quickly closed when they encountered the bright lights overhead.
She groaned, felt sick to her stomach. She opened her eyes again and this time they stayed that way. She sat up and then froze
as she saw the man standing there watching her.

He held out a hand. “I hope you are feeling better,” said Kuchin.

She didn’t take his hand, but remained where she was. Katie looked around. Except for the light on her the area beyond was
dark. She felt a bump under her, and then another. She looked down. She was on a chair that had folded down to a bed. Another
bump, and then her ears dialed in to the familiar hum. How many millions of miles had she heard that?

She was on a plane.

She sat up, swung her legs out into the aisle. The man backed up slightly to accommodate this movement.

“Can I ask the obvious?” she said.

He sat down in a chair across from her. “Please.”

“Who are you and why am I here?”

“Both good questions. Who I am is irrelevant to you. Why you are here may be of interest.”

He held out a glossy piece of square-shaped paper.

Katie took it, looked at the photo. Her and Shaw in Zurich. She eyed her hand on top of his arm. As intimate as they’d gotten.

Shaw. That’s why I’m here.

She glanced up and handed it back. “I still don’t understand.”

“Your mouth says that, your eyes do not. It is too late for such tactics. You know him, he knows you. And I would like to
get to know him too.”

I bet.

“Why?”

“He is an interesting man.”

“I don’t know where he is.”

Kuchin let out a sigh. The next moment Katie was lying on the floor of the plane cabin, blood running down her face from where
he’d struck her. Her brain was still trying to process this event when she was wrenched up by her hair and thrown back in
her seat. She slumped there holding her face and trying to stop the blood running from her nose.

She felt something brush against her face.

Kuchin was handing her a towel.

“Forgive me for that. I am impulsive. You see, I desperately need to meet with your friend. He owes me something.”

“What,” Katie said slowly through her busted mouth.

“Again, not relevant to you.”

“I don’t know where he is. I’m telling you the truth.”

“But you can get in touch with him.”

“No, I can’t. I—” She froze again when he held up her cell phone.

“It is interesting that we found two cell phones. One you were holding and another in your purse. The one in your purse was
much like any other phone, the usual contacts, emails, calendar. But this one, this phone, had none of that. In fact, according
to the phone list you have only received two calls on this phone. Now, this man I am seeking, your friend? Why do I think
he is a man who would give you such a phone?”

“He didn’t,” said Katie as she wiped off her face.

“Then you have no trouble with my calling back this number? Just to see who answers?”

Katie looked down for a moment, trying to get her breath and her nerves under control.

What the hell has Shaw done to get a guy like this ticked off at him?

“I will take your silence as an affirmation.”

“He won’t come.”

“I think he will.”

“Why?” Katie said miserably.

Kuchin looked at the photo of Shaw and Katie. “I think you know why.”

S
HAW WAS
lying on the couch when it happened. He looked at the caller ID screen. He recognized the number. It was the phone Frank
had given Katie. She was calling him again. He slumped back on the couch. He wasn’t going to answer. What would be the point?
He was absorbed with guilt over sleeping with Reggie. Frank had accused him of disrespecting Anna’s memory, and maybe he was
right. Shaw still wasn’t sure how it had all happened. But he did know that he had wanted it to happen. He had wanted the
woman in a way that he had wanted no other. Perhaps even Anna. He couldn’t explain it and didn’t have the energy to even try.

The phone stopped ringing. He sat up, rubbed his head, now feeling even guiltier for not answering the call. The phone started
ringing again. Okay, now he had another chance to at least make this right.

“Hello?”

“Bill Young?”

The voice from the catacombs, so close then, seemed right in his face now. Shaw almost never felt afraid anymore. It wasn’t
that he was careless or considered himself invulnerable. Paralyzing fear simply had been eradicated from his psyche through
an accelerated process of evolution. He spent much of his time in dangerous situations. If he continually froze up, he’d be
dead. The ones who didn’t let fear get the best of them tended to live to fight another day. He was one such man.

Now Shaw felt fear like he hadn’t in a long time. But it wasn’t for himself.

“How did you get this number?” He already knew the answer and yet he was hoping beyond all reason that he was wrong.

The next voice he heard destroyed this possibility. “Shaw, stay away. Do
not
do what this guy says. Just stay away.”

Katie sounded scared but also resolute. In those few words Shaw was reminded starkly of how courageous the lady was. She was
sitting next to one of the great psychopaths of the ages and she was telling him to just let her die. Frank had been right;
he didn’t deserve her.

“Mr.
Shaw
?” said Kuchin.

“How did you get to her?”

“It doesn’t matter,” said Kuchin. “I have her. Now I want you and the woman.”

“I can only speak for myself.”

“You and the woman,” repeated Kuchin.

“And you’ll let Katie go? Right, sure. I’ll come. Just me.”

“If it’s just you, don’t bother. Your friend here will not be alive to greet you.”

“I’m telling you I don’t know where she is.”

“Then I suggest you try very hard to find her.”

“And if I can’t?”

“I have a box, Mr. Shaw. It’s from my days in my home country. In that box are some very persuasive tools that I employ from
time to time. Indeed, I just used them on another acquaintance of mine. I have to tell you that he did not seem to enjoy it.
I do not often pull out my little box, but I will for your friend if you do not do as I say. I will videotape my work and
send it to you.”

“What if I can find her? What then?”

“I will call you back on this number in two hours.”

“That’s not enough time.”

“In two hours,” repeated Kuchin. “Then I will tell you exactly how and when this will happen. And I would advise you strongly
not to let this conversation go beyond you and ‘Janie.’ Such a tactic would be fruitless and will ensure your friend’s death
in the most painful way I can possibly achieve. You saw the pretty pictures on the wall beneath that church. You know what
I’m capable of.”

“Listen to me—”

But Kuchin was gone. Shaw stared down at the phone like it was a live grenade that he needed to throw himself on to save everyone
else. But it wasn’t a grenade, it was a phone. And he apparently couldn’t save anyone. And Reggie? He couldn’t ask her to
do it. He wouldn’t ask her to do it.

He would tell Kuchin when he called back that he had found Reggie. They would arrange the meeting. He would go alone, make
an excuse, and do his best to get Katie out alive. That was all he could think of.

He looked up when something thumped against his door.

“Yeah?” His voice broke on the simple word.

“It’s Reggie. Can we talk?”

Shit.

“I was just getting ready to crash,” he called out.

“Please.”

He hesitated, but finally opened the door and motioned her in. She eyed him curiously.

“Are you okay? You look like you’re about to vomit.”

“I’m fine.”

She sat in a chair, he on the couch.

“What’s up?”

Reggie started talking, but he wasn’t listening. Shaw knew that Kuchin was too smart for something as simple as his plan.
He would want proof that Reggie was coming. He would ask to speak with her. Shaw would never get the chance to save Katie
unless…

“Shaw? Shaw?”

He looked up to see Reggie standing next to him, poking him in the shoulder.

“Yeah?” he said in a bewildered tone.

“You haven’t listened to one bloody word I’ve been saying.”

“I’m sorry. Look, this is just bad timing.”

She eyed the phone still clutched in his hand and looked at him suspiciously. “What’s going on?” she demanded.

“Nothing is going on.”

She knelt in front of him, her hands on his knees. “Something is going on and you’re going to tell me what it is.”

Shaw could barely form words. Indelibly painted on his brain were the images of Katie and Kuchin. “It’s nothing. I’ll handle
it.”

She pounced. “Handle what?”

“Will you please let it alone?”

“It’s him, isn’t it?”

“Who?”

She grabbed his thick shoulders and shook them. “Oh for God’s sake. Talk to me.”

He stood abruptly, causing her to fall on her backside, and walked away. “I said I’ll handle it.”

She rose, followed him. “How?”

“I’ll think of something.”

“He has someone, doesn’t he? Someone you care about?”

He whirled, terrible suspicions running through his own mind now, but none of them made sense. “How did you—”

“I guessed,” she said. “I don’t think you’d ever be scared for yourself. So it had to be somebody else. How did he get to
them?”

Shaw sank down on the edge of the bed. “I don’t know.”

“Who is it?”

“Her name is Katie James.”

“I’ve heard of her.”

“Journalist.”

“Right, that’s right. He’s got her? You’re sure?”

“Too sure.”

“And what does he want?”

“Me.” He hesitated, licked his lips. “And you.”

“The package?”

“I told him I didn’t know where you were.”

“But that wasn’t good enough, was it?”

“What do you think?”

“So where and when?”

“Reggie, don’t even go there.”

“I’m already
there
, Shaw.”

“I’m not going to let you do this.”

“Are you kidding? This is the best thing that could’ve happened.”

“What?” he said in a shocked voice.

“I don’t mean for your friend. I’m very sorry about that,” she added quickly. “But we were never going to find Kuchin. And
now the guy is inviting us to come to him. This is our opportunity. Our shot.”

“It’s hardly an invitation, Reggie. He’s going to kill us.”

“No, he’s going to
try
and kill us,” she corrected. “And we’re going to do the same to him.”

“Well, given the circumstances, I think the odds lie with him.”

“It’s still our only chance.”

“Do you understand that if you come with me you’re most likely going to be murdered in some sadistic, painful way? Do you
get that loud and clear?” He pointed to the door. “Just walk out and keep going.”

Instead Reggie sat down next to him. “I guess I could say something cute or flippant to show that I’m not scared, even though
I am, but I think I’ll try the truth.”

This got Shaw’s attention. He stared over at her.

“Part of me never wants to see Kuchin again, Shaw, never again. I see the man in my head all the time. I wake up with him
in my brain. I see him over my shoulder. I came one instant from dying that night. I saw his eyes. There was nothing there.
I might as well have been a gnat. He didn’t give a shit. There’s no way for a normal, sane person to match something like
that.”

“And you still want to go?”

“I can’t live while that guy is still breathing. That’s the bottom line. I want him as badly as anything I’ve ever wanted
in my life. I will kill him with my own hands, if I have to. He’ll have to kill me, because I will never stop going for him.”

“The guy is the monster.”

“No, he’s
a
monster. He’s not the first, and he’s not the last. And he has to be dealt with.”

“Why the hell do you do this?”

She stood. “Just tell me when it’s time to go. I’ll be ready.”

The two hours came and on the dot the phone rang. Shaw was correct in his thinking. Kuchin asked to speak to Reggie.

“Hello, little Janie,” he said after she had confirmed she was on the line. “Our last meeting was cut short. I look forward
to visiting with you again.”

Reggie said nothing else and simply handed the phone back to Shaw.

Arrangements were made. They would leave the following day. They were to say nothing to anyone. “She will be dead long before
you reach her if you disobey,” Kuchin had warned.

“But if you plan to kill her anyway?” Shaw had countered.

“I give you my word that if you follow my instructions to the letter, I will release the woman unharmed.”

“Your word?” Shaw had said incredulously.

“As a former officer of the KGB.”

“That really does nothing for me.”

“On my mother’s grave, then. I swear it. I have no fight against your friend. My issue is with you and the woman.”

“Where and when?”

“That depends on where you are currently.”

“In your own backyard. Montreal.”

Shaw thought he could hear a small gasp from the other man and it gave him some pleasure at having startled him.

“Then that simplifies matters,” said Kuchin. He explained the details.

When he was done Shaw clicked off and looked at Reggie. “You still game for this?”

“Even more so now. His arrogance pisses me off. He takes it as a foregone conclusion that we’re just sheep blithely going
to the slaughter.”

Well, aren’t we?
thought Shaw.