Private Moscow (Private 15)

“It’s boss-speak for a reprimand,” Leonid explained. “Dressed up as advice to help you improve your performance.”

“What the hell are you people into?” Anna asked, glancing around the park.

Leonid shrugged, and Dinara couldn’t think of a good way to answer the question.

“That base,” Anna went on. “I made a couple of calls and I was told that it never existed. So I called a friend in Army Intelligence and he said I was playing with fire.”

“Did he say anything else?” Dinara asked.

“Are you kidding? He was terrified even talking to me,” Anna replied.

Leonid shook his head with resignation. Dinara knew what he was thinking. They’d hit a dead end.

“Give me the name,” Anna said. “I did as much as I could. Keep your side of the deal, Boykov.”

He sighed. “OK,” he conceded. “The Black Hundreds recruiter is a man called Erik Utkin. He runs a group out of a gym called Grom Boxing. It’s where Spartak Zima trains.”

Anna whistled.

“The fighters are dealing for him,” Leonid continued. “We’ve been conducting surveillance on them. I’ve asked my team to send you everything we’ve got.”

“Really?” Anna asked.

Leonid nodded.

“Your team? I thought you two are all there is,” Anna said. “And your American boss of course.”

“Don’t believe everything you hear,” Leonid advised her.

Dinara was surprised when Anna stepped forward and embraced Leonid.

“Thank you,” she said. “This might just save my neck. I’m sorry I couldn’t be of more help.”

“You owe me then?” Leonid asked.

“I didn’t say that.” Anna flashed a smile. “Good luck.”

She turned on her heels and started back along the icy boulevard.

“So we’ve got nothing?” Dinara remarked.

She sensed Leonid wasn’t listening, and realized his attention had drifted to three men who were coming west along the boulevard. Dinara looked to her left and saw two others beside the long pavilion, heading south, directly toward her.

“Either Anna is part of this and walked us into a trap, or they were alerted by her inquiries and followed her here,” Leonid said urgently.

Dinara’s stomach tightened and her legs went weak.

“Dinara,” Leonid said, his voice pleading and fearful. “Run!”

CHAPTER 77

DINARA AND LEONID ran south beneath Krymsky Bridge. The traffic thundered overhead, and when she glanced back, Dinara saw the two men by the pavilion break into a sprint.

She and Leonid burst from the shadow of the bridge onto the riverfront plaza that abutted the high gates of Gorky Park. The plaza hadn’t been plowed and was buried beneath deep snow.

“This way,” she said to Leonid, urging him toward the park, but they stopped dead when they saw two men running through the open gates.

“The stairs!” Leonid pointed toward a set of stone steps that led up to the bridge.