The Prague Plot: The Cold War Meets the Jihad (Jeannine Ryan Series Book 3) (11 page)

In North Carolina, the morning sun shone over the Currituck Sound to the east of the town of Grandy. Peter Zeleny had driven all night. Weary, he brought Aileen’s car to a halt at the red traffic light that hung over the highway. He held his foot on the clutch, stretched his arms, and yawned.

The traffic light switched to green.

Peter jammed the accelerator but released the clutch too quickly. The car thrust forward in rough jerks. He had never driven a stick shift, and even after driving all night, had not mastered the manual transmission.

He glanced to his right. The lurching start had jarred Aileen awake. She did not acknowledge Peter, but stared straight through the windshield.

Peter spoke without looking at her.

“We left Virginia an hour ago. We’re almost to the Outer Banks. Are you feeling any better?”

“What do you care. Your friend tried to kill me.”

“He’s not my friend. He knew my family in the old country. My father wanted me to help him. I didn’t know. I had no idea he would ... ”

Aileen’s lip curled downwards.

“Stop it.
You
trashed my office,
not
your father.”

Peter lowered his eyes.

“But I did stop Gustav from shooting you.”

Aileen glared.

“OK! Thanks, but
you
brought him to the office.”

“But you don’t know Gustav. He’ll kill me for helping you, and my father will help him.”

“Great, some father! Who is he, really? And why ever would you listen to him?”

Peter glanced sideways. Even with her bruised cheek and eye half-closed, he found her desirable.

“Aileen, when my mother left us, I was only a boy. My father was stuck with me. He always kept his ‘work’ to himself. He never talked about what he did, but I guessed enough that I never wanted to know more.”

He took a breath.

“Father was a true believer in the system and an active member of the Party. He worked in the prison on Bartolomejska Street. Gustav, the man who attacked you, worked there too. He would visit our apartment and they would drink together, always too much. Vodka! I kept away when they drank, but I could hear them. They would joke and laugh about the ‘pink prison.’ It seems the ceiling was painted pink.”

Peter swallowed and continued.

“When I asked my father what he did in the prison, his answer was always the same. He helped people see the truth of Communism. He rehabilitated those who needed help. Then he would change the subject to hockey. My father loved the Czechoslovak national team. What did I care about hockey, or politics? I lost myself in my studies.”

“Thanks to the Party, I attended good schools. I learned not to ask questions about prisons.”

“Then the government changed. It was a shock to my father. It seems the new president, Vaclav Havel, had once been in my father’s prison. We moved to Kladno, My father was angry, then he became bitter, morose. He withdrew, but by that time I was out of the house. I had my medical studies in Prague, and my friends just thought of my father as old fashioned. Maybe I wanted to believe that. I don’t really know.”

Peter finally took a breath.

“Since I came to Chicago, I forgot my father, and Prague. I love my work, my patients. I love your country, our country. I have my green card, I’m going to be a citizen.”

A pickup truck pulled in front of Peter. He touched the brakes to slow down.

“When my father called me from Rockville a few days ago, I was shocked. It had been more than three years since I had seen him. I thought he was just an old man, harmless. He asked me to help Gustav. I thought he had changed. I was wrong.”

He coughed.

“I had no idea. When Gustav tried to kill you, I had to club him.”

He turned to her. Aileen shifted in her seat. For the first time since waking, she met his look. Peter pulled the car to the side of the road and turned off the engine. He closed his eyes and sighed. His chin drooped onto his chest.

“My father won’t protect us from Gustav. He’s always been closer to him than me.”

He looked sideways and touched her arm.

She pulled away, and remained silent.

“Aileen, we are in danger, and not just from Gustav and my father. There are others too, assassins like Gustav. They work for Hus-Kinetika. They killed Vaclav Pokorny and they will kill us if they find us.”

Aileen’s head spun. She sat motionless. Peter reached for her.

“I did not think he would hurt you. Please believe me. I’m sorry for what happened. I only want to help.”

She shook his arm from her shoulder and looked away.

“I don’t know. My head hurts, my shoulder aches and I can’t think.”

She spoke as if to herself.

“No one knows where I am. Everyone must be worried. Thank God, Mary Catherine is with my mother.”

She took her cell phone from her bag.

“I have to call my mother and Jeannine. Meanwhile, you find us a motel. I hurt and I need to collapse, and you drove all night. No more driving. We have to stop.”

Her neutrality was the best he could hope for. Peter spotted a motel ahead on the right. He pulled back onto the highway and drove to it.

Both he and Aileen were too weary to notice the Ford Excursion that had stopped on the side of the road some distance behind them.

It too drove back onto the highway and headed after them.

The two men in the Ford Excursion watched as Peter helped Aileen into the small roadside motel.

The man in the passenger seat spoke first.

“I don’t get it. Why did Zeleny drive all the way to North Carolina? He could have hidden in Maryland.”

“I’ll tell you why. And it’s a lucky break for us.”

“What do you mean?”

“I mean he’s here to find Anne Simek.”

“So we don’t grab them now?”

“No way. Zeleny’s doing us a favor. Let him find Simek for us. Then we make our move We get all of them at once.”

He added.

“There’s another motel across on the left. I’m tired. We may as well find a bed too. Zeleny drove all night. He is not going anywhere for a while.”

Peter Zeleny helped Aileen into the room. She took two Advil from her purse and headed to the bathroom for water. Coming out, she grabbed a pillow from the bed. Peter still stood by the door.

Aileen collapsed into the comfortable chair.

“I’ll take this. You can have the bed, since you drove all night, but shut the curtains over the window. The sun’s too bright.”

Aileen buried her face in the pillow. Peter moved to close the heavy curtains, but stopped to peer through the slats of the blind.

Aileen moaned.

“Damn it, pull the curtains shut so I can sleep.”

She curled into the chair and buried her head deeper.

Peter did not close the curtains.

“Aileen, there’s something wrong here.”

She opened her eyes. He went on.

“In Bethesda, when we left your office, a Ford Excursion was parked down the street. Just now a Ford Excursion stopped at the motel across the street. Two men got out and went in.”

He continued.

“They must have driven all night, like us. Why else would they pick a motel now?”

Aileen sat upright. Peter continued.

“There’s something else. The Excursion I saw in Bethesda was gray and had Virginia plates just like that one over there.”

Aileen ran to the blinds and looked through. Parked in the motel lot across the way was the empty Excursion. Evidently, its occupants had taken a room.

She turned to Peter.

“They must have followed us from Maryland. They drove all night too. They know we’re tired, but so are they. They think we’ll sleep for two hours at least. I say we give them a half hour to fall asleep and then leave.”

Peter nodded.

“That’s good thinking.”

Together they stood by the blinds and studied the Ford Excursion parked in the lot across the street. It was deserted.

A half hour later they slipped out of the motel.

Columbia, North Carolina is on the southern shore of the Albemarle Sound. Anne Simek stood alone by a small cottage on an inlet of the sound, some miles from Columbia. She had rented the cottage with cash that she had obtained from an ATM in Nags Head before leaving the Outer Banks. Her cottage was a safe distance from the Banks, but still close.

To the Currituck County Sheriff, she was a “Person of Interest” in the death of Vaclav Pokorny, but to Anne herself she was more. She was not only a “Suspect,” but a “Guilty” one. She was responsible for his death.

At Vaclav’s insistence, Anne had gone to fetch Peter Zeleny, leaving Vaclav alone at Bordens’ bed and breakfast. And Peter Zeleny had been useless. She had wanted to stay with Vaclav. She should have stayed with him!
I shouldn’t have left you
.
I’m sorry. Forgive me?

But Anne could not forgive herself.

Never had she felt so alone.

She stood shivering by the door. The morning was cold. There was little wind and the waters of the sound were still. Across the inlet stood a tall pine, now dead, at whose top was stacked a mix of branches at odd angles, an Osprey’s nest. Would Ospreys be here in winter? Out over the waters soared a lone bird, possibly the nest's owner, but too far away to identify.

She stepped back into her room. She choked. There in the corner, motionless against the baseboard, was a brown six-legged creature. She moved quickly to squash it, but drew back. Somehow she could not kill it. The roach scurried into a crack. Anne returned to the open door.

She thought of her cousin. Mila had been right about the Corolla rental. It had been roach-free. Maybe she should call Mila?

No! Mila, you should have told me it was Vaclav.

Anne decided. She picked up her phone and called Peter Zeleny. It shifted to message.

“Peter, this is Anne. I’m at the Moccasin Rental Cottages, near Columbia, North Carolina. I’ve thought about what you said. I will meet you. Call me.”

Too late, she realized her foolishness.
My God, what have I done?

Suppose that horrible stranger still had Peter’s phone!

In the Red Roof Motel in Rockville, Maryland, Johan Zeleny listened to Anne Simek’s message.

He put Peter’s phone down and turned to Gustav Slavik.

“That was the Simek woman. She left a message for Peter. She told him where she is.”

Gustav raised his eyebrows. Johan laughed.

“She’s in a cottage near Columbia, North Carolina. She’s waiting for Peter to call back.”

Gustav did not smile. He studied Johan’s expression. Satisfied, he fingered the swelling at the back of his head and grimaced.

“That woman is naive, like your son. Good. We shall go to North Carolina.”

He finished cleaning his Makarov and stood up.

It was mid-morning on the Carolina Coast, but afternoon in Prague.

The phone buzzed on Ivana’s desk. It was Karel’s secretary, Fiala. Her tone was tart.

“Karel wants you in his office, immediately.”

Ivana looked at her Rolex. It was early, not yet time for her regular meeting. She frowned and picked up her folder. She checked her makeup and hair and stood up.

She walked fast down the hall. Outside Karel’s office, she paused to smooth her skirt before opening the door. She stepped in.

The chair behind the massive desk was empty. Karel stood directly in front of her. He seized her arm.

“Ivana, why are my men unwilling to report to you?”

“Karel, you’re hurting me. What do you mean?”

He released his grip.

“I mean, where is Gustav? My men say you know where he is.”

“That’s ridiculous. I have no idea where he is. You told me your men would handle him, remember?”

“So you have not heard from him?”

Ivana shifted her stance to present her best profile to him. She bit her tongue.

“No, and I see that your men have not found him, so they blame me! How convenient.”

Karel relaxed. Ivana was becoming. He changed gears.

“You are right. They seek to shift their failure onto you. They missed Gustav at the office of that Ryan and his associates.”

Ivana knew that “Ryan” was a woman, but she would not let Karel know that she knew anything about the Drs. Ryan and Harris. Thorough as she was, she had done her homework. For now she wished to appear dumb.