Last Chance to Die, Noah Boyd [most read book in the world TXT] 📗

“You’re right, and you can call me Steve if you like. Actually, I’m here because it occurred to me that you might have other American double agents left in your stable.”

“And if that were the case, do you think I would just turn their names over to you?”

“You just lost a bunch of your assets, not to mention the services of the Lithuanians. I imagine Moscow is not pleased at this point. Let me give you some words of advice—‘political asylum.’ ”

Branikov threw his head back and laughed. “Steve, I’ve come to expect more from you. That’s a very weak tactic. One that assumes there are no other options at my disposal.”

“Then how about you being charged with the attempted murder of an FBI deputy assistant director and one regular old street agent?”

“I am disappointed. I know this is not your usual profession, but certainly you’ve heard of diplomatic immunity. If you could prove anything, which I don’t see how you can, at most I would be sent back to Moscow. And that is kind of an honor for a man in my field.”

“Unfortunately, I believe you’re right.” The waiter brought the check, and Vail grabbed it. “Allow me. Never let it be said that I’m not a gracious loser.” He gave the waiter a credit card.

“You’re too kind.” Branikov sipped his coffee in silence, studying Vail until the waiter brought back the charge slip and the card.

“I guess you’d better hope that nothing happens to the rest of your sources, because Moscow might start to wonder if you turned.”

“I’ll try to be careful,” Branikov said, his tone amused and patronizing.

Vail looked at the bill and then took out the pen the CIA agent had given him. As he started to write in the waiter’s tip, the pen slipped from his hand and fell to the floor. Vail bent over and picked it up. Outside the Russian’s line of vision, he pushed the clicker, silently discharging a mist of the ultraviolet powder, covering Branikov’s shoes. Vail straightened up and attempted to write with the atomizer pen and then took the waiter’s pen and signed the receipt.

“Thank you, Steve. You know, it’s too bad you don’t do this for a living. It would have made life infinitely more interesting to have you around.” Branikov got up and walked out, giving Bursaw a last hard look.

A few minutes later, Vail and Bursaw walked out into the parking lot and over to the CIA agent’s car. Vail took out Rellick’s phone and handed it to him.

“That’s it? He loaded it into his phone?” the agent asked.

“The list is in there.”

“And you didn’t read it.”

“It’s no longer any of my business, so no.”

“We appreciate it,” the agent said, and got back into his car. The two men watched him pull out of the lot before getting back into theirs.

Bursaw said, “Okay, I’m just a common street agent, incapable of understanding the subtleties of counterintelligence. What just happened?”

“Branikov was responsible for everything. He’s the one who contracted the LCS to carry out Kate’s ‘suicide.’ But between our being unable to prove it and his diplomatic immunity, he was going to get away with everything. You know how I feel about that. So before I left for Florida, I asked the CIA to identify the phone number that called Rellick’s phone that night in the park. I knew that they had a source in the Russian embassy, because they gave us some information from him early on in the Calculus case. So when they identified Branikov as Rellick’s handler, they had their source in the embassy leak it out that Branikov was a double agent and that he was being handled by a fictitious CIA officer named Donald Winston, and that he went to the gym every day. A technique they commonly use is spy dust. When they know their suspected man’s contact—in this case Winston—they find a way to put dust in his car and then discreetly keep checking Branikov’s clothing to see if it shows up. If it does, they know that he’s been in the car and doubling. Three days ago the CIA found the dust in Winston’s car. So they collected it and loaded it into the pen, which I just used to spray Branikov’s shoes with.”

“So they’re already suspicious of him, and when they find the dust on his shoes, they’ll start putting him through the grinder.”

“I can’t speak for Russian bureaucracy, but that’s the way it looks on the drawing board. And as soon as the Bureau starts making arrests off the lists that were in Zogas’s computers, Branikov’s looking at some serious gulag time. At best.”

Bursaw laughed. “It does have a nice symmetrical irony to it, since the dust was part of Kate’s frame. Like the Bible says: ‘Dust to dust.’ ”

“I think the thing I like best about you, Luke, is you appreciate just how flawed an individual I am.”

“That’s very flattering—I think—but you’re still buying dinner.”

“Let’s go meet your Thai hostess.”

They drove for a while before Bursaw asked, “Well, how was wreck diving?”

“It was okay, you know.”

“I never really take vacations, but aren’t you supposed to look at least a little bit happy when you come back?”

“Sounds like I’m about to be the recipient of well-intentioned but pointless meddling,” Vail said.

“As a friend it’s my job to stick my nose in your business.”

“Right now that would be a good way to end our friendship.”

“Okay, what do you want to talk about?”

“Catch me up on what’s been going on since I left.”

“We found six bodies in the well. They’ve only been able to identify two of them—Sundra and that missing air force sergeant. The lye had been working on the others for a while, so we may never know who they are.”

“And what are you doing with all your free time now?”

“I do have one fairly large bone to pick with you. They’ve got me working counterintelligence because I know all the players, and thanks