The Venetian Betrayal (42 page)

Zovastina spoke more in wonder than anger. She seemed genuinely moved by the thought. On the one hand she cast herself a foolish romantic, consumed with notions of greatness gained from dangerous quests. On the other, according to Thorvaldsen, she was plotting the death of millions.

Zovastina clamped Cassiopeia's chin in a strong hold. "You need to tell me now what you know."

"The priest lied to you. In the basilica's treasury is an amulet that was found in the remains of St. Mark. A heart scarab with a phoenix carved into it. Remember the riddle. Touch the innermost being. Divide the phoenix."

Zovastina seemed not to hear her. "You are beautiful." Her breath stank of onion. "But you're a liar and a cheat. Here to deceive me."

Zovastina released her grip and stepped away.

Cassiopeia heard the bleating of goats.

MALONE MOUNTED THE HORSE.

"None of the roof guards will pay us any attention," Viktor said. "You're with me."

Viktor hopped back onto his ride. "They're beyond the playing field, in the woods. She's planning on killing Vitt."

"What are we waiting for?"

Viktor kicked his horse. Malone followed.

They galloped from the corral toward an open field. He noticed striped poles at each end and an earthen pan in its center and knew what was played here. Buzkashi. He'd read about the game, its violence, how deaths were routine, the barbarity and beauty it simultaneously displayed. Zovastina was apparently a connoisseur and the stabled horses were surely bred to participate, like the steed beneath him, loping forward with uncanny speed and ability. Littered across the grassy field were goats that seemed to provide an excellent manicure service. Maybe a hundred or more, and large, scattering as the horses thundered past.

He glanced back and noticed gun posts atop the palace. As Viktor had predicted, no one seemed alarmed, surely accustomed to their Supreme Minister's exploits. Ahead, at the far end of the field, stood a thick stand of trees. Two paths cut a route into them. Viktor brought his horse to a stop. Malone reined his in, too. His legs dangled against dark streaks of sweat on the animal's flanks.

"They're maybe a hundred meters down that trail, in another clearing. It's up to you now."

He slid from the saddle, gun in hand.

"WE HAVE A PROBLEM," STEPHANIE SAID. "IS THERE ANOTHER WAY out of here?"

Ely motioned toward the kitchen.

She and Thorvaldsen rushed forward just as the cabin's front door burst inward. The man barked orders in a language she did not understand. She found the kitchen door and opened it, cautioning Thorvaldsen for quiet. Ely was speaking to the man in the same language.

She slipped outside. Thorvaldsen followed.

Automatic gunfire exploded from inside the cabin and bullets ripped into the heavy timbers behind them.

They fell to the ground as a window exploded. Glass showered outward. Bullets found trees. She heard Ely yell something to their attacker and used that instant to spring to her feet and race around the cabin toward the car. Thorvaldsen remained on the ground, struggling to stand, and she could only hope Ely delayed the guard long enough.

She reached the car, opened the rear door, and gripped one of the automatics.

Thorvaldsen rounded the cabin.

She assumed a defensive position with the car as a buffer, aiming across the hood, and motioned with the gun for Henrik to go right onto the front porch. He veered out of her line of fire, just as the guard appeared, his rifle leveled waist high. He seemed to spot Thorvaldsen first and pivoted to adjust his aim.

She fired twice.

Both bullets found the man's chest.

She fired twice more.

The guard collapsed to the ground.

Silence gripped her. She did not move until Ely appeared from behind the dead guardsman. Thorvaldsen stepped off the porch. Her gun was still aimed, both hands locked on the stock. Shaking. She'd killed a man.

Her first.

Thorvaldsen walked toward her. "You okay?"

"I've heard others talk about it. I told them it was their job. But now I understand. Killing someone is a big deal."

"You had no choice."

Ely walked over. "He wouldn't listen. I told him you weren't a threat."

"But we are," Thorvaldsen said. "I'm sure his orders were for no one to make contact with you. That would be the last thing Zovastina would want."

Stephanie's mind began to clear. "We need to leave."

Chapter
SEVENTY-THREE

MALONE ADVANCED INTO THE WOODS, BLACK AND SILENT AND seemingly filled with threats. He spied a clearing ahead where sunshine spread unaffected by the leafy canopy. He glanced back and did not see Viktor, but understood why the man had disappeared. He heard voices, so he increased his pace, stopping behind a thick trunk near the path's end.

He saw Cassiopeia. Tied between two trees. Her arms stretched outward. Irina Zovastina standing beside her.

Viktor was right.

Big trouble.

ZOVASTINA WAS BOTH INTRIGUED AND IRRITATED WITH CASSIOPEIA Vitt. "You don't seem to care that you're about to die."

"If I cared, I wouldn't have come with you."

She decided it was time to give the woman a reason to live. "You asked on the plane about Ely. Whether he was alive. I didn't answer you. Don't you want to know?"

"I wouldn't believe a word you said."

She shrugged. "That's a fair statement. I wouldn't, either."

She found a phone in her pocket and pushed one of the buttons.

STEPHANIE HEARD A RINGING. HER GAZE SHOT TO THE DEAD MAN lying on the rocky ground.

Thorvaldsen heard it, too.

"It's Zovastina," Ely said. "She calls me on the phone he brings."

She darted to the body, found the unit, and said to Ely, "Answer it."

CASSIOPEIA LISTENED AS ZOVASTINA SAID, "THERE'S SOMEONE here who wants to talk to you."

Zovastina placed the phone close to her ear. She had no intention of saying anything, but the voice that came from the other side of the call sent an electric shock down her spine.

"What is it, Minister?" A pause. "Minister?"

She could not help herself. The voice confirmed all her doubts.

"Ely. It's Cassiopeia."

Silence greeted her.

"Ely? Are you there?" Her eyes burned.

"I'm here. Just shocked. It's good to hear your voice."

"Yours, too." Emotion surged through her. Everything had changed.

"What are you doing here?" Ely asked.

"Looking for you. I knew...I hoped you weren't dead." She tried to maintain a tight grip on her emotions. "Are you okay?"

"I'm fine, but I'm worried about you. Henrik's here with a woman named Stephanie Nelle."

That was news. Cassiopeia tried to shove her apprehension aside and focus. Apparently, Zovastina was unaware of what was happening wherever Ely was being held. "Tell the minister what you just told me."

Zovastina listened into the phone.

STEPHANIE HEARD ELY REPEAT HIMSELF. SHE UNDERSTOOD THE shock Cassiopeia must be experiencing, but why did Cassiopeia want Ely to tell the Supreme Minister they were here?

ZOVASTINA SAID INTO THE PHONE, "WHEN DID YOUR FRIEND Thorvaldsen and this woman arrive?"

"A short while ago. Your guard tried to kill them, but he's dead."

"Minister," a new voice said in her ear, one she instantly recognized.

Thorvaldsen.

"We have Ely."

"And I have Cassiopeia Vitt. I'd say she has another ten minutes or so to live."

"We solved the riddle."

"Lots of talk. From you and Vitt. Anything to back it up?"

"Oh, yes. We'll be at the grave before nightfall. But you'll never know."

"You're in my Federation," she made clear.

"Except that we were able to enter, take your prisoner, and leave with him without you ever knowing."

"But you made a point to tell me."

"The only thing you have that I want is Cassiopeia. Call back if you want to bargain."

And the call ended.

"YOU THINK THAT WAS SMART?" STEPHANIE ASKED THORVALDSEN.

"We have to keep her off balance."

"But we don't know what's happening there."

"Tell me what I don't know."

She could see Thorvaldsen was worried.

"We have to trust that Cotton is handling things," he said.

ZOVASTINA FOUGHT THE FEELING OF UNEASINESS THAT SWEPT through her. These people fought hard, she'd give them that.

She freed a knife from its leather sleeve. "Your friends are here. And they have Ely. Unfortunately, contrary to what Thorvaldsen may think, he has nothing I want."

She stepped close to the bundle of rope. "I'd much prefer to watch you die."

MALONE SAW AND HEARD EVERYTHING. ELY LUND WAS APPARENTLY on the phone. He saw how Cassiopeia had been affected, but he also realized that someone else had come onto the call. Henrik? Stephanie? They were surely with Lund by now.

He could wait no longer. He rushed from his hiding place. "That's enough."

Zovastina stood with her back to him. He saw that she'd stopped her assault on the ropes.

"The knife," he said. "Let it go."

Cassiopeia watched him with a look of anticipation. He felt it, too. A bad feeling. Almost as if he'd been expected.

Two men stepped from the trees, weapons trained on him.

"Mr. Malone," Zovastina said, as she turned toward him with a grim look of satisfaction on her face. "You can't kill us all."

Chapter
SEVENTY-FOUR

VINCENTI STEPPED INTO HIS LIBRARY, CLOSED THE DOOR, AND poured himself a drink. Kumis. A local specialty he'd come to enjoy. Fermented mare's milk. Not much alcohol but quite a buzz. He downed the shot in one swallow and savored its almond aftertaste.

He poured another.

His stomach growled. He was hungry. He should tell the chef what he wanted for dinner. A thick slab of teriyaki horse steak would be good. He'd come to like that local specialty, too.

He sipped more Kumis.

Everything was about to unfold. His intuition from all those years ago had proven correct. All that stood in the way was Irina Zovastina.

He stepped to his desk. The house was equipped with a sophisticated satellite communications system, with direct links to Samarkand and his corporate headquarters in Venice. Drink in hand, he saw an e-mail had arrived from Kamil Revin about a half hour ago. Unusual. Revin, for all his joviality, distrusted any form of communication save face-to-face, with him controlling the time and location.

He opened the file and read the message.

THE AMERICANS WERE HERE.

His tired mind snapped alert. Americans? He was about to hit "Reply" when the study door burst open and Peter O'Conner rushed in.

"Four helicopter gunships bearing down on us. Federation."

He darted to the windows and gazed west. At the far end of the valley four dots pricked the bright sky, growing larger.

"They just appeared," O'Conner said. "I'm assuming this is not a social call. You expecting anyone?"

He wasn't.

He returned to the computer and deleted the e-mail.

"They'll be on the ground in less than ten minutes," O'Conner said.

Something was wrong.

"Is Zovastina coming for the woman?" O'Conner asked.

"It's possible. But how would she know this fast?"

Zovastina would never have imagined what he was planning. True, she distrusted him as he distrusted her, but there was no reason for any show of force. Not now, anyway. Then there was Venice, and what happened when he'd moved on Stephanie Nelle. And the Americans?

What didn't he know?

"They're swinging around to land," O'Conner said from the windows.

"Go get her."

O'Conner dashed from the room.

Vincenti slid open one of the desk drawers and removed a pistol. They'd yet to hire the full security contingent the estate would ultimately require. That would all be done in the coming weeks, while Zovastina occupied herself preparing for war. He'd planned to use that diversion to its fullest.

Karyn Walde entered the library, wearing a bathrobe and slippers. Standing, on her own. O'Conner followed.

"How do you feel?" he asked.

"Better than I have in months. I can walk."

Already, a doctor was en route from Venice who would treat her secondary infections. Lucky for her, they were remediable. "It'll take a few days for your body to start a full recovery. But the virus is right now being assaulted by a predator against which it has no defense. As, by the way, are we."

O'Conner assumed a position at the window. "They're on the ground. Troops. Asians. Looks like they're hers."