Sailors and Sirens Read online

"No; she goes her own way sometimes. Given what we do, I don't poke my nose into her business uninvited."

  "I see. But she was going to call Aaron this morning, you say?"

  "That's right. She mentioned it, specifically. Reminded me that she had her own secure phone."

  "Right," Mike said. "Aaron?"

  "Yes, sir?"

  "See if you can reach her. Finn and I will hold."

  "Yes, sir. I'll be right back."

  "Finn?" Mike asked.

  "Yes?"

  "While we're waiting, do you have any more thoughts on what we were discussing yesterday?"

  "You mean Mary's idea about sending the text to Lavrov?"

  "Yes. Did you and Mary kick that around after we talked?"

  "A little, yes. I'm not sure it's a good idea for her to join up with Lavrov. My take is that he wants the files she took from Dailey. This notion of her becoming his enforcer is a smokescreen, in my opinion. He just wants to get his hands on her so he can force her to hand over the files."

  "Uh-huh. What does she think about that?"

  "She sees it differently. She makes the point that he knows she took out O'Hanlon and his team in Martinique. And as far as Lavrov knows, she killed Davies after she questioned him. We don't think Lavrov's people know I helped her escape. She's sure he wants her to sign on as his personal executioner."

  "And you don't know where she is? What she's up to?"

  "No, sir. But I'm surprised she — "

  "Excuse me," Aaron said, rejoining our call.

  "Did you reach her?" Mike asked.

  "No. Her phone's been off the network since about nine last night."

  "That's about when she left," I said.

  "Can you track it?" Mike asked.

  "No, sir."

  "I thought these phones had independent GPS transponders," Mike said.

  "They do," Aaron said, "But if the main battery is dead for more than a few hours, the auxiliary battery for the tracker will die. Or if the phone is shielded, the transponder can't get a GPS signal or a satellite query."

  "Shielded? What's that mean?"

  "Enclosed in a conductive container, for example. Say it's in the trunk of an automobile. That's not perfect, but it might be a good enough shield. Or if you want to be certain, you can stick it in a microwave oven. They're well-shielded by design, to keep radio frequency radiation inside."

  "So it could be accidental or deliberate that we can't find her?"

  "That's correct," Aaron said.

  "All right," Mike said. "Let's put that aside for now, unless one of you has reason to think she might be in trouble."

  "Okay," Aaron said. "I sent her a text, and I left her a voicemail, so when the phone comes back on the network, she'll know we're looking for her."

  "Good enough," Mike said. "Finn's of the opinion that Lavrov's interested in Mary because he wants O'Hanlon's files, rather than wanting to use her as an enforcer. We were talking about that while you were trying to track her down. What's your take on that?"

  "Well, it squares with what we've turned up on Lavrov so far. If he's who we think he is, he started out as Spetsnaz and went from there to the old KGB as an assassin. We don't know his real name; Lavrov's no doubt an alias. If we've got the right guy, he's been through a lot of identities. After the KGB became the FSB, he went into business for himself — at least in theory. As talented as Mary is, I doubt Lavrov's impressed with her. He's been surrounded with that kind of talent for most of his career, I expect."

  "Okay. I talked this over with Bob Lawson last night. Without knowing what you just told us, he and I reached the same conclusion. The danger involved in sending Mary to infiltrate Lavrov's organization far outweighs the benefit. And I don't just mean danger to her. There's all sorts of exposure that could result.

  "Having said that, we should string Lavrov along for as long as we can. Every interaction we have with him reveals more about what he's up to. Bob and I like the idea of using the phone you took from his boy Davies to send him a message, Finn. The question is what we say to him. We want to provoke him. Get him to stumble so we can learn more about him. Any ideas?"

  "Yes," I said. "I've been wrestling with that. I agree that the risk to reward ratio argues against sending Mary into the lion's den, but I think her approach to setting the hook with Lavrov is sound."

  "All right. Can you elaborate on that?" Mike asked.

  "Sure. We should keep Mary's behavior in character. From what she's told me, she worked through a broker until she connected with us. She said that's how she did her first jobs with Phorcys, even."

  "That's correct. But that was before you and Aaron came along. How much do you know about the broker? Either of you?"

  "Nothing," Aaron said. "This is all new to me."

  "Good," Mike said. "Your perspective will be untainted, then. Finn? How about you?"

  "Not much more than I've told you. I picked up bits and pieces from her; she's not much for full disclosure."

  Mike chuckled. "Nor should she be. What bits and pieces?"

  "Well, let's see. The broker's a woman. She runs a double-blind operation, so Mary never knew the identity of her clients, and vice versa."

  "Uh-huh," Mike said. "That tracks with our experience. Anything else?"

  "Not really, but Mary made it sound convoluted. I can't remember all the twists and turns in the story, and I still have my doubts about some of what she said. The impression I got was that there were lots of cut-outs along the communications path. It almost sounded unworkable. Except I guess it worked. You'd know better than I, right?"

  "Convoluted is a good way to describe it," Mike said. "And it did work. So what's your idea?"

  "Well, Mary should be consistent in how she deals with Lavrov. If he wants to hire her, she should force him to go through the broker. She shouldn't deviate from her normal method of doing business. That's assuming that Lavrov doesn't know about her arrangement with us. Obviously, that's a deviation for her."

  "Right," Mike said. "So we send him a text from Davies's phone, which he knows or suspects is in Mary's possession, and we set him on the path to the broker. Is that your idea?"

  "Yes," I said. "Before we send the text, Aaron should be monitoring Lavrov's communications. If we know the number Davies used to send texts to Lavrov, you can monitor that, right, Aaron?"

  "That's right. And once we've got a physical location for Lavrov, or for the receiving device, we can lock onto everything that goes in or out of the location. If he's using sophisticated encryption, we may not get much in the way of content, but connecting timing with location may be enough for us to figure out what's going on. Mike?"

  "Yes?"

  "How much do you and Bob know about this broker?"

  "Enough. We can make this work. She's got a track record with us — the broker, that is. I don't want to say more."

  "Can you get me the number of the cellphone Davies was using, Finn?" Aaron asked.

  "Sure. Want me to just send you a text from it?"

  "No, don't do that. It's possible that Lavrov's people are monitoring it somehow. We don't want to give them more reaction time than we need to. His phone's not powered up, is it?"

  "I don't think so. Mary turned it off not long after we took it from him; we left it on long enough to see what was in it — the pictures of Mary from the O'Hanlon hit in Martinique, mostly. No recent call records. I'm not sure about texts. I was driving and she was still groggy, but I think she said there were text messages in there, probably from Lavrov, giving Davies his instructions. It was a cheap throwaway phone."

  "That's fine," Aaron said. "Get me the number. You got a microwave in your room?"

  "Yes."

  "Stick it in there while you turn it on, and close the door against your arm. Look through the crack to get the number while it's powering up. As soon as you get the number, shut it off, okay? We don't want them to see it go on the network. Once I've got the number, we can spoof it and send Lavrov a message th
at appears to originate from that phone. We can make the phone's location anywhere we want."

  "What about getting Lavrov's number from the phone? Don't I need to get that for you?"

  "No. That will be in the call records from Davies's phone. We'll get that once we hack into the service provider's database. All I need is the number from Davies's phone."

  "Okay, then. Hang on while I get it."

  I looked through all our belongings that were in the room while Aaron and Mike waited. The phone was nowhere to be found.

  "We've got a problem," I said. "I thought the phone was in the fanny pack I was wearing yesterday, but it's not there. I can't find it here in the room. Mary had it when we were in the car. I have a feeling it ended up in her stuff when she left last night."

  "Uh-oh," Aaron said. "How about in your car?"

  "I'll check and call you back, but I doubt that. Neither of us leaves stuff in the car. She was still dopey, though."

  "Wait," Mike said. "Let's break off here. Bob should be out of his meeting by now. I'll go fill him in and talk with him about what we want to say to Lavrov while you two sort out this phone business."

  "All right," I said.

  "You call Aaron when you have the phone, Finn. Aaron?"

  "Yes, sir?"

  "You know how to reach me when you're ready."

  "Yes."

  "All right," Mike said. "We'll talk later."

  I disconnected the call and put my secure phone in my pocket as I left the room. The car was in a small parking lot which was once part of the garden of the old house that was now the B&B. Five minutes later, I was back in the room. The phone wasn't in the car. There was only one place it could be, and that was in Mary's duffle bag, with Mary. Back in the room, I called Aaron.

  "Finn?"

  "Yeah. No luck on the phone. It must have ended up in Mary's stuff."

  "Crap," Aaron said. "That's too bad, but it may not matter right now, anyway."

  "Why's that?"

  "I just heard from the surveillance team at the marina. The cops are all over Anastasia. My watcher is still trying to figure out what's going on. They've blocked off access to most of the face dock where she's tied up. Hang on; I'll patch you in to our call."

  A few seconds passed, and then Aaron said, "Finn?"

  "Yeah, I'm here."

  "Josie?"

  "Here."

  "What's happening?" Aaron asked.

  "The cops are stringing up yellow tape all over the place. Two ambulances just pulled up, and a crime scene van. Greg went in the marina office right before I called you to see what he could find out."

  "Greg is part of Josie's surveillance team, Finn," Aaron said.

  "Thanks," I said.

  "Here," Josie said. "Greg's back. I'm giving him the phone."

  There was a short, muffled conversation, and then a man's voice said, "Aaron?"

  "Yeah, Greg. What's happening?"

  "Anastasia was supposed to leave before dawn, but she didn't. The captain settled their bill last night before the office closed. The marina's expecting another big motor yacht this morning, and they need the dock space. The manager tried calling Anastasia on the radio and tried the captain's cellphone, too. He didn't get an answer, so he went aboard about 30 minutes ago. There are dead bodies; nobody alive on the boat — the manager freaked out, called the cops. That's solid intel, but I also picked up some rumors. Want to hear those?"

  "Sure," Aaron said.

  "Okay. A dozen bodies, everybody except the owner and his bodyguard. That came second-or-third-hand from the manager, by way of some of the staff. May or may not be accurate. Late yesterday, the captain asked the concierge here to book them dock space in Savannah for this afternoon, downtown, on the riverfront. That's solid. And that's about it."

  "No word on the owner and his bodyguard?" I asked.

  "Only that they haven't turned in the car they rented late yesterday."

  "Can you find out any more about that car?" Aaron asked.

  "Maybe. I'll check on it. Anything else?"

  "Not right now. Both of you stay there and keep an eye on what happens. I want to know everything — facts, rumors, wild-ass guesses — everything."

  "You got it, boss," Josie said. "Greg, let me know ASAP on that car. Get a copy of the rental agreement if you can."

  "Right, Josie. I'm on it. Bye, y'all."

  "Bye, Greg," Josie said. "Aaron, I'm going to ease in as close as I can get to the cops' access check point. I'll call as soon as we get anything new."

  "Thanks, Josie."

  There was a click on the line as she disconnected.

  "Finn, you still there?"

  "I'm here."

  "What do you think?"

  "No idea, Aaron. You gonna tell Mike and Bob?"

  "Yes, right now. You want to stay on the line?"

  "Not much. I'm going to see if I can find that missing cellphone. And maybe figure out where Mary went. I'll have this phone with me. Keep me posted, okay?"

  "You bet. Good luck with your search."

  "Thanks. Talk with you later."

  23

  Despite what I told Aaron a few minutes ago, I was at a loss as to how to find Mary. When we picked up our new identities in Orlando a few days ago, she became Mary Catherine Ryan, but that didn't mean much. Besides the identities provided by Phorcys, she had a collection of her own, stashed in lockboxes in various east-coast cities. Charleston was likely to be one of them, so she might well have a different name this morning. And then there was her skill at altering her appearance. She fooled me twice in the last two weeks.

  She left here after dinner last night. That was too late for shopping in most places, but Charleston was a tourist town. Lots of souvenir shops stayed open late, and some stalls in the city market did, as well. I was thinking in terms of T-shirts, sweatshirts, hats — that kind of thing. She wouldn't have had a problem picking up accessories that would alter her appearance, even after nine p.m.

  Since I didn't know what she looked like or what she was calling herself, all I could do was prowl places where she might hang out. Although I didn't mention it to Aaron, the slaughter on Anastasia screamed her name. From what Aaron's surveillance team reported, it bore a strong resemblance to the massacre she carried out on Frankie Dailey's motor yacht in Martinique.

  Mary stuck around the scene in Martinique, watching for me to show up. Of course, back then she wasn't angry with me. But she was mercurial. She had probably cooled down by now, given what I suspected she did last night. Killing is a marvelous outlet for pent-up anger. I would stroll over to the marina and look at Anastasia. Maybe the scene would give me some insight, or maybe Mary would see me and get in touch.

  It was still early for a tourist town; there weren't many people on the sidewalks. One girl sat on a bench at the bus stop half a block up the street from the B&B. Other than her, all the people I saw were couples, except for a few families with children.

  As I got closer, I saw that the girl looked disheveled, her brown hair pulled back in a lank, greasy-looking ponytail. She wore dirty jeans, tattered running shoes, and a College of Charleston hooded sweatshirt that was too big for her. She kept her nose stuck in a book and didn't look up as I walked by.

  I barely heard her as she mumbled, "Hey, mister. Help me out with some spare change?" I broke my stride and glanced down at her, but she didn't return my look. She just kept reading. Maybe I imagined her half-hearted, whiny plea.

  I started to walk away, and she said, "Come on, Finn. Have a heart. I'm hungry."

  "Mary?"

  "I can be, if that's who you're looking for."

  "What the hell have you done?"

  "Sit down for a minute. You still angry with me?"

  "I'm not the one who stormed out of the room last night."

  "Yeah, I screwed up. I was so pissed off at myself for getting snatched by those three bastards that I took it out on you. It all went downhill from there. I felt like you were getting all poss
essive, and Mike was dismissive of my… Well, anyway I'm sorry. Think there's a chance I can recover?"

  "I'm not sure, Mary."

  She wiped a tear from her cheek with a grimy hand. "Please, Finn. You know how much you mean to me."

  "No, I don't, really. But anyway, I'm not your biggest problem. You know where you stand with me. That hasn't changed. Missing that conference call this morning is a whole different thing, though."

  "My phone kinda got broken." She rummaged in her backpack and brought out the remains of her custom, Phorcys-issued iPhone. Its screen was shattered, and the shiny metal case was bent at a sharp angle. "I was going to come by the room for the call, but I needed to be sure nobody was following me. I got into a little trouble last night."

  "Were you serious about being hungry?"

  "I could use a little breakfast, yeah."

  "I was on my way to the marina to get a look at what's going on with Anastasia. This late in the morning, we might get a seat in that restaurant that overlooks the docks."

  "Let's go, then." She stood up and swung the backpack over her shoulder.

  I got to my feet and fell in step alongside her. "Did you smash the phone to cover yourself?"

  "You think I would do something like that?"

  "No comment," I said.

  "I didn't. It was in my hip pocket when I got thrown down a ladder. I've got a matching bruise on my ass to prove it. Guess I need to tell you what happened, huh?"

  "I'm not sure you should. Aaron's pretty good at reading me, after all the time we spent together."

  "What are you trying to say, Finn?"

  "I'm pretty sure I know what you did last night. What I don't know is why, or exactly how. And so far, it's all just speculation on my part. It might be better to keep it that way, assuming you're going to try to square this with our friends at Phorcys."

  She walked along with a frown on her face, not saying anything for several seconds. "Yeah… I get what you're saying. If there's only one version of the story, they'll be more likely to accept it. Right?"

  "Something like that, yes."

  "But they know about us — our relationship. You think they'll believe I haven't told you what happened?"

  "I've set the stage. When they asked where you were this morning, I told them you left last night to deal with personal stuff. I said that given our backgrounds, we didn't pry into each other's business. I figured that would keep them from asking too many questions."