Suddenly a Spy (22 page)

“We knocked out San Francisco,” Rick told
Vance. “Petrov got away, but we got the girls. They’re safe.”

“Would you like me to arrange for their
aftercare?” Harmony offered, taking a long plug off the fruit
smoothie they’d brought her.

“That would be helpful,” Rick admitted.

“You don’t have to,” Veronica scowled at
Rick. “We can take care of it.”

“No, it would be good for me to have
something to do.”

Veronica conceded, understanding the need to
stay busy. Few things were as brutal as idle waiting.

“Do you know how long you’re in for?” Rick
asked Vance.

“A week,” Vance scowled.

“Do you need us to make any arrangements for
you?” Veronica offered.

“No, but thanks. I’ll go back to St. Louis
with Harmony after I get out.”

Rick nodded. “Do you know how much data was
compromised?”

“None. The files were encrypted when I sent
them and destroyed after. I can’t think of anything other than the
last few phone texts.”

“Then how did they know we were headed for
San Francisco?”

“And how did they find us in Greece?”
Veronica added.

“They never said,” Vance frowned. “If I were
you, I’d get rid of anything you had with you in Bulgaria. There’s
no telling what they’ve tagged.”

“I did a sweep of our bags, but tech develops
as fast as we can get the counter-tech out there.”

“Even my scarf?” Veronica looked at Rick.

He shrugged apologetically.

“At least the clothes I bought in San
Francisco are safe.”

“Will you guys be okay if we push off
tonight?” Rick looked from Harmony to Vance.

Harmony nodded.

“Move while they’re still reeling,” Vance
agreed. “Don’t give them time to regroup.”

“That’s what I was thinking.”

They talked for a while longer before
Veronica and Rick departed with a round of hugs. It felt strange
leaving Vance behind. Like going to a movie without getting
popcorn. Sure it can be done, but it feels incomplete.

“We should probably dump your things before
we head out,” Rick suggested. “I can’t believe I didn’t think of it
sooner. You’re messing with my head.”

“Sure. I’m messing with your head. It’s
always my fault, huh? Maybe you just have early onset
senility.”

“Nice.”

“Instead of wasting all of those clothes, we
should give them away.”

“Actually, that’s not a bad idea. If he is
tracking something, maybe he’ll think you’re still in San
Francisco.”

Veronica dismantled her phone, throwing the
pieces in various trashcans all over the city. Her wardrobe was
dispersed amongst the homeless. She kept the laptop but gave away
her suitcase. Anything Marko might have had contact with was
dispersed.

It was a little distressing—she really did
love that sangria colored scarf—but it was also kind of fun. And
the hunched-over, gray-haired woman pushing the rickety shopping
cart acted like she’d been given the world when she ran her
wrinkled fingers over the luxurious fabric. Of course, she also
enjoyed the money Rick slid her when he thought Veronica wasn’t
looking.

Even though scattering her belongings across
the city took more time than dumping them would have, they were
still on their way within a couple of hours. After one last stop to
empty bladders and refill coffees, they hit the road.

Veronica always liked driving overnight.
There is a different kind of mood to it that both soothed and
promised adventure. When she was a child, her family always
traveled overnight on vacations to maximize time at the beach.

Long after Jeff and even her mother had dozed
off, Veronica would lie awake, staring at the stars beyond her
reflection and listening to her Daddy sing along to a Statler
Brothers cassette tape. It’s the only time he would sing—when he
thought there was no one awake to hear.

Now Veronica leaned back in her seat,
listening to the steady hum of wheels on pavement and watching the
streetlights zip by. The lights became farther and farther in
between as they left the city behind them. Once again, she watched
the stars beyond her reflection. This time it was she who sang a
Statler Brothers tune under her breath.

“I know that one,” Rick reached out and
stroked her cheek before joining her in the chorus of
“Elizabeth.”

“Are you okay if I take a quick nap?” she
asked after the song faded away.

“I’ll wake you if I get sleepy,” he
promised.

She doubted he would, but the lure of rest
was too great, so she pretended to believe him. It had been a long,
strange day—even by her new standard. It didn’t take long for her
heavy eyes to close. As she drifted off, a smile tugged the corner
of her mouth. Rick was humming “Flowers on the Wall.”

She might have felt guilty about sleeping the
entire night if she hadn’t felt so rested the next day. Rick looked
perfectly haggard, so after pancakes at IHOP, she took the keys and
declared it her turn.

She pointed the car east and allowed her mind
to wander as miles of blacktop carried them to the nation’s
Midwest. She stopped for gas in Salt Lake City. Rick didn’t rouse
until somewhere in Wyoming. They checked in to a Super 8 Hotel in
Cheyenne.

By the time they made it to their room,
Veronica’s legs felt like Jello. She and Rick both collapsed onto
the bed, staring up at the ceiling.

“I don’t remember a bed ever feeling this
good.”

“I bet James Bond never had to put up with
this crap,” Veronica grumbled.

“Yeah, because someone yells ‘cut’ until the
next scene can be rolled in.”

“My butt hurts.”

“Lovely.”

“No really. It’s numb.”

“Hey—the desk clerk said they have waffles as
part of the complimentary breakfast. I think I want waffles for
breakfast.”

“I think I want a Diet Coke now,” she foisted
herself off the bed. “And a pizza. Do you want anything?”

“You’re going out for pizza?”

“No, I’m going to the vending machine for a
soda. You’re going to call and order us a pizza.”

“Ah; figures. Yeah. Grab me a Coke.”

Veronica padded barefoot down the hallway,
not in the mood to bother with shoes and rather enjoying the feel
of the cheap carpet beneath her tired toes. The hotel felt very
desolate. She wouldn’t be surprised if they were its only occupants
at the moment.

The farther she walked, the more her
imagination toyed with her. She saw Marko around each corner. Or
worse yet, Petrov. A chill ran down her spine at the thought of his
beady brown eyes staring at her, full of loathing.

It felt like everything was in slow motion;
each act was amplified. Even the sound of the quarters falling in
the vending machine seemed to echo in her ears. She peeked out of
the vending alcove before heading back to their room. Her pace
quickened; the hallway seemed longer on the return trip.

She struggled to control her breathing as she
let herself in the room. Rick looked up at her, concern etched on
his face.

“Everything okay?”

“Yeah. I don’t know what got into me; I was
seeing the boogey man in every shadow.”

“You know, that actually kind of relieves me.
I was starting to worry that you were the tougher one of the
couple. I’m not entirely sure I’m secure enough in my masculinity
for that.”

Veronica felt the need to dispute that, if
not for herself but for womankind everywhere. But she was tired and
her brain hurt, so taking up the mantle of women’s equality would
have to wait for another day.

She would have picked up the cause first
thing in the morning, but Rick was pretty insistent they make a
beeline for the waffles. She reassured him there wouldn’t be a run
on the continental breakfast, but he was a man on a mission.

Being a good wife, she agreed to settle the
bill while he loaded the car. As she stood at the front counter,
her head bent over the credit slip, someone brushed past her. The
lobby was virtually empty; the near contact made the hairs on the
back of her neck stand on end. She looked up only to catch a glance
of the person’s retreating back. Cinnamon and sandalwood hung in
the air. And Italian bergamot.

She shook her head and chided herself for
seeing ghosts again. The odds of Marko being in Cheyenne, Wyoming
were fairly slim and there was most likely at least one tall man in
the world besides him. It was entirely possible her mind was
conjuring those familiar scents, too. Still, there was something in
the stranger’s bearing that made her pause.

The man disappeared from sight, undoubtedly
to his car by now. She set aside the notion of following him and
finished signing the piece of paper in front of her.

“All finished?” Rick appeared in the doorway,
rubbing his hands together in anticipation of breakfast.

Veronica nodded, waiting until they were
alone to ask him if he’d seen anyone outside.

“No, should I have?”

“Not really. I just saw someone that seemed…
a little off. That’s all.”

“When this is over, we’re taking a
vacation.”

“Can it be a vacation in our own home? I miss
the dogs.”

“And your mother, no doubt.”

“Be nice.”

Veronica had to admit, for all her teasing
Rick, she was getting pretty excited about the waffles, too. The
smell was reaching out from the hot iron and winding its way around
her senses. It was divine.

Halfway through hers, she remembered why she
rarely ate breakfast; it always made her feel queasy. Rick was
happy to finish off her plate before going back for more. She
sipped at her orange juice and waited patiently for him to be
full.

This day seemed slightly less arduous. They
put in a good nine hours on the road and stopped in Des Moines,
Iowa for the night. Just for giggles, they stayed in a Super 8
again. That night, before collapsing into bed with their pizza,
they coordinated timing with Sean and Jeff.

She’d applied the same theories used in San
Francisco to pinpoint the most likely targets in Chicago and
Atlanta. The next day, each team would scope out their coordinates
and report back. An attack would be coordinated for nighttime.

Veronica was ready for action again. If all
went as planned, in less than 48 hours, they would have taken down
two more pillars of the Kulenović organization. They’d be so much
closer to the end of this labyrinth.

And she needed to come to the end of this
particular adventure. It was starting to affect her; she was
getting antsy. Twice the next day, she was sure she’d seen Marko
only to look again and find no one there. By the time they’d
checked into the Super 8 in Chicago, she was getting downright
surly.

“Have I done something stupid?” Rick finally
gave in and asked.

“No,” she assured him apologetically. “I’m
just tired of wearing the same pair of jeans and t-shirt. Since we
have a little time, I think I’ll go shopping.”

“Sure,” Rick stretched reluctantly. “Maybe we
could grab a burger and a beer afterwards, though.”

“You don’t have to go. I wouldn’t mind having
some time to myself.”

“Sick of me already? Sorry, love. I’m not
letting you out of my sight until both Kulenović brothers are taken
care of. Petrov is a twisted freak—I don’t even want to think about
what he’d do to you. And Marko, he’d just love the chance to whisk
you away to some remote corner of the world, never to be heard from
again.”

“We don’t have to go. It would make more
sense to go check out the coordinates anyway.”

“Am I that bad of a shopping buddy?” his eyes
danced with amusement. “Come on. There’s nothing saying we can’t do
both.”

Chapter Twenty-Four

Before shopping, they swung by the
neighborhood pinpointed as a potential hub for the Kulenović
operation. Veronica wondered why she’d stopped thinking of it as
Marko’s group. Was that in response to infighting within the
organization, or some sort of Freudian thing?

In contrast to San Francisco’s industrial
front, Chicago operations were a little more scattered. The
antiques and girls were being sold in broad daylight on the main
strip. After studying satellite images courtesy of Rick’s contacts
in the government, they decided it would be easier to snatch the
girls from the battered old apartment complex where they were
housed.

Now that they stood in front of the targeted
building, the cameras positioned at every entrance and exit gave
away the true purpose of the structure. This wasn’t exactly a
security camera kind of neighborhood.

“I’m surprised they haven’t moved already.”
Veronica commented as she peered through her pink binoculars from
the passenger seat of their rented Buick.

“So you drove that whole way expecting them
to be gone?”

“Still in Chicago, but maybe in a new
neighborhood. Do you think they’re setting us up?”

“Maybe. I think they’re getting sluggish
because they’re spread so thin. It’s hard to hide an entire
operation. Especially with their resources and attention
divided.”

“I don’t see any sign of the brothers.”

“They’re probably hiding under a rock
somewhere. This is where they keep the girls, though.”

“Do you have a plan? Are we actually going to
arrange for someone to take the girls before we get there this
time? Because I don’t think Jeff will be happy if I call him for
backup again.”

“Yes I have a plan, and if you stop running
your mouth, I might even share it with you.” Rick turned the car
back on and eased back onto the street. “Now come on, let’s get you
out of those clothes.”

“That’s your answer for everything.”

“It usually works, too,” he pointed out. “But
in this instance, I was referring to buying you new clothes.”

“Which has also been known to put me in a
better mood.”