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“Say hello to him from me,” Zhang Daiyu said.
“And our three friends,” Hua added.
I nodded and headed for the jet. I climbed the airstairs as the pilot ran through his engine checks and found the co-pilot waiting for me in the cabin. She was a quiet woman in her early thirties, who like the pilot gave off an aura of competence.
“Mr. Morgan, welcome aboard,” she said. “We were told you didn’t require service tonight, so it’s just you, me, and Captain Tengfei for our flight to Moscow.”
Nervous acid flushed through my stomach as she named the city. My last trip to Moscow had almost killed me.
I stowed my bag and took my seat in a plush armchair halfwayalong the cabin. The co-pilot went into the cockpit, and the pilot broadcast a short welcome and safety announcement, but I wasn’t really listening. I was thinking about what I’d face in Moscow and rehearsing various scenarios.
Worry for my Russian friends and colleagues, compulsive visualization of how I’d handle each scenario, and unwanted flashbacks to the trials I’d previously faced there kept me on edge throughout take-off, but about an hour after leaving Beijing the adrenaline ebbed away and fatigue got the better of me.
With nothing but the low drone of the engines and the stars outside my window keeping me company, I finally drifted off to sleep.
CHAPTER 79
JUSTINE FELT ANGRY and she couldn’t understand why. It was an internalized anger that clawed at her, a grim sense of frustration with no outlet. She knew from professional experience that such feelings were neither healthy nor productive, so tried to understand where they had come from.
Was it delayed anger and grief for fallen colleagues? Was she tired of being thrust into danger by malevolent people? Was she angry at Jack for the cavalier way he hurled himself into these perilous situations, regardless of the odds? All these issues came to mind, so Justine suspected they played a part in the fire that seemed to start in her chest and spread up her spine to the very top of her skull.
She sat back in the executive chair and stretched. She was alone in the small meeting room in the Private office overlooking Madison Square Park. Mo-bot and Sci had been elusive ever sinceAngel had been released. She had told them about her experiences with Tate Johnson and the team spying on the Consulate and related what Jack had said about helping the DoD contractor find a way to bring Angel to justice.
She was happy to hear Shang Li was alive and relieved for his wife and children, but the good news had been followed by bad. Now Dinara, Feo, and the rest of the Private Moscow team were missing.
There had been a time when Justine had been jealous of Dinara, while she and Jack had been working closely together in Moscow, but Justine’s feelings had been grounded in a fear of losing him that proved to be unfounded. She had since come to know Dinara as an extremely competent investigator, and was genuinely concerned about what had happened to her and her team.
There was a knock at the door and Mo-bot entered. She was in blue jeans and a green T-shirt emblazoned with a screen print of bolting ponies.
“Any word from Moscow?” she asked.
Justine shook her head. “No. Jack’s on his way there now.”
Mo-bot whistled softly. “Does he know what he might be walking into?”
“Yes. That’s why he’s going,” Justine said. “He wants to put an end to this and get his team back.”
“I’m sorry, Justine,” Mo-bot responded. “This can’t be easy for you.”
“It’s the job,” she replied.
They both fell silent for a moment.
“You didn’t come in here for a gloom session with me,” Justine remarked at length. “What have you got?”
“Am I that transparent?”
Justine recognized Mo-bot’s knowing smile; some scheme was brewing. She nodded.
“Well, we do have something as it happens,” Mo-bot said. “Let me show you.”
Justine got to her feet and followed her along the corridor to the large conference room where she and Sci had set up a couple of workstations. Sci was at his, sipping from a paper cup.
“Morning,” he said cheerfully.
Mo-bot shut the door behind them and took a seat at her workstation. Outside, the midday sun was making the city shine, but the conference room was just the right side of chilly.
“What’s going on?” Justine asked, taking the seat next to Mo-bot’s.
