BooksBarbecue
Back The Asset
Chapters (86)
  1. Foreword
  2. 1
  3. 2
  4. 3
  5. 4
  6. 5
  7. 6
  8. 7
  9. 8
  10. 9
  11. 10
  12. 11
  13. 12
  14. 13
  15. 14
  16. 15
  17. 16
  18. 17
  19. 18
  20. 19
  21. 20
  22. 21
  23. 22
  24. 23
  25. 24
  26. 25
  27. 26
  28. 27
  29. 28
  30. 29
  31. 30
  32. 31
  33. 32
  34. 33
  35. 34
  36. 35
  37. 36
  38. 37
  39. 38
  40. 39
  41. 40
  42. 41
  43. 42
  44. 43
  45. 44
  46. 45
  47. 46
  48. 47
  49. 48
  50. 49
  51. 50
  52. 51
  53. 52
  54. 53
  55. 54
  56. 55
  57. 56
  58. 57
  59. 58
  60. 59
  61. 60
  62. 61
  63. 62
  64. 63
  65. 64
  66. 65
  67. 66
  68. 67
  69. 68
  70. 69
  71. 70
  72. 71
  73. 72
  74. 73
  75. 74
  76. 75
  77. 76
  78. 77
  79. 78
  80. 79
  81. 80
  82. 81
  83. 82
  84. 83
  85. 84
  86. Afterword

He felt like a voyeur. He wasn’t sure what he was looking for.

There was a dress form at the end of the bed with a silk negligee draped over it. He touched the silk.

He stood at the window and looked out at the traffic on the street below.

His phone rang.

“Where are you?” It was Roth’s voice.

“At her apartment.”

“Anything out of place?”

“Nothing.”

“Listen, we just got a match on the assailant.”

“Who is he?”

“A US citizen with known ties to the GRU. According to the intel, he’s a hitman for Direktor Fyodor Timokhin.”

“I don’t know Timokhin.”

“I do.”

“Bad news?”

“You could say that.”

“So where can I find this guy?”

“I’m sending over what we’ve got now. He lives in New Jersey but my bet is this will lead straight back to Moscow.”

43

Tatyana woke with a gasp. Everything was black. For a split second, she wondered if she was still alive.

Then she saw the steam billowing from the ventilation shaft. She was soaking wet, and she was freezing cold, so cold she was in danger of hypothermia.

A gust of steam came from the vent beneath her and warmed her for the briefest second. Then it was gone and the icy cold returned. The steam kept her just warm enough to stay alive, but it also made her wet. If she left the vent, she’d freeze in a matter of minutes.

Memories of what had happened came rushing back to her in flashes.

She remembered getting rid of her electronics. She remembered struggling along the tunnel as far as a steel ladder. She remembered crawling through a ventilation shaft for what felt like eternity.

Every second had been agony, the bullet wound in her arm burning like fire.

She didn’t remember stopping, but if it wasn’t for the steam she’d have frozen to death.

She looked at her watch. It was analog, her grandmother’s. It said seven.

The ID she had, the credit cards, all of it would lead the GRU right to her. She went through her purse and counted her cash, a couple hundred dollars. She got rid of anything that would have allowed Igor to track her. She didn’t have her gun. She’d thrown it away when she realized the bullets were duds. Goldin must have changed them in the hotel room.

She thought about the gun for a moment. She remembered when she’d gotten it.

She’d been careless.

Distracted.

She’d let her guard down, rushed to make the meeting with Spector, and that had caused her to make a mistake.

This was the price.

Her tights were tied around the bullet wound. She vaguely remembered doing that. It would need proper attention soon.