A Red Dotted Line (Mike Walton Book 2) Read online

  “Where is Dr. Galkin?”

  “He’s dead.”

  ........

  Mike Walton didn’t want to believe Victor but something was telling him he was speaking the truth. Why would he lie? To save his life, that’s why.

  “Your doing?”

  “Yes. I had to.”

  Goddamn it. He’s telling the truth. “Why? And before you answer me with some bullshit, Victor, know that I’ll shoot you in the gut if I feel you aren’t being completely honest with me.”

  “Why isn’t important—”

  “I decide what’s important,” Mike warned him. If there was indeed a team coming to their location, he needed to know if Victor was on his side or not.

  The Russian bodyguard raised his hands by his side. Mike could see that caused him much pain. “Okay, okay,” Victor pleaded. “I’ve gambled everything to warn you. You have to trust me on this when I say I had no choice.”

  “You’re wasting my time—”

  “The Sheik was going to torture him, and he was going to kill him. Me killing him was a blessing. Plus, he gave me this,” Victor said reaching inside his pocket.

  “Careful,” Mike cautioned him.

  Victor showed him a USB key. “Before he died, Galkin told me that on this,” Victor said, shaking the USB key, “there’s everything we need to know to understand the virus Dr. Votyakov and he created.”

  Was the Russian agent telling the truth? There was only one way to find out. “Do you know how to access the apartment you were supposed to bring Dr. Galkin to?”

  Victor nodded.

  “James,” Mike said. “Take the USB key to your guys and once you’re sure it doesn’t contain any viruses, send it to the boss.”

  Mike covered Cooper as he moved close to Victor to collect the USB key. “Ask them to cancel Lisa’s assignment. We won’t need Galkin’s wife after all.”

  “What about you, Mike?” Cooper asked.

  Mike chastised him with his eyes for saying his name out loud but doubted Cooper even realized it. “Victor and I will wait for the Sheik’s men to show up. Now go.”

  CHAPTER 38

  Koltsovo, Russia

  Lisa Walton’s plane landed without incident. The coffee the flight attendants had served during the flight was so acidic it was undrinkable. The IMSI-issued go-pills were her only salvation against the fatigue that had taken over her mind and body. Lisa had made sure to hydrate herself properly on the flight, hoping it would keep the migraines she knew were coming at bay a little longer.

  She had kept an eye on the two SVR or FSB agents—she wasn’t sure for whom they were working now that she knew they weren’t protecting the Russian TV star—and they hadn’t looked at her once.

  The car Support Two had rented for her—a late model Volkswagen Polo—was ready and already paid for at the Europcar counter outside the terminal. Lisa made the twenty-five-mile drive between the Novosibirsk International Airport and Kosoltvo in just under an hour. She had removed the battery from her smartphone the moment her flight had taken off. Knowing that Russian intelligence—especially in a semi-military city like Koltsovo, where one of Russia’s largest virology centers was located—might track all cell-phone activations at the airport, she waited until she reached the city before turning it on again.

  There were three new emails from the IMSI server, all of them urgent if she was to believe the red flags next to them. Lisa parked the Volkswagen on a quiet street on the outskirts of the city and punched in her twelve-digit password. She waited for the phone to confirm it was secured before downloading the full messages. The first was from Jonathan Sanchez and it contained the contact information and the address of Dr. Galkin’s wife, Sophia Galkin. The next one was Charles Mapother asking her to contact the IMSI as soon as she landed. The last message was from Mike. She listened to this one twice. He wants me to abort the mission. What the heck?

  She dialed IMSI headquarters. Anna Caprini picked up.

  “We’ve got you just outside Koltsovo. Everything okay?”

  “I’ve got your messages. I’m on my way to pick up Dr. Galkin’s wife.”

  “Wait a sec, I’ll put you through Mapother,” Caprini replied.

  Lisa turned off the engine and observed her surroundings. It reminded her of a quiet university town. The streets were clean and well lit. Her GPS showed her to be about six miles away from the Biopreparat facilities in Koltsovo. She figured she was in one of the neighborhoods where the Biopreparat employees lived. There were a lot of small apartment buildings but they were well kept. She had also noticed a few parks and playgrounds.

  “Where are you?” Mapother asked.

  “Good evening to you too, Charles,” Lisa replied, surprised at Mapother’s severe tone.

  “Lisa, we need you to abort the mission. Dr. Galkin’s dead.”

  What? Oh shit! Was Mike all right?

  Mapother continued before she could voice her concerns, “Mike’s okay, Lisa, but we need you back in Moscow now.”

  Her mind was spinning. “What about Dr. Galkin’s wife?”

  “We don’t need her anymore.”

  “So we’ll leave Sophia behind?”

  “Damn it, Lisa! Just do as you’re told.”

  This wasn’t right! From what she understood, Dr. Galkin had sacrificed his career—and now his life—to give them intelligence he thought they needed to counter Russia’s apocalyptic ambitions. The least they could do was to help the woman he had left behind.

  “If they’re on to her, she’ll be tortured for days, Charles. You know how the Sheik operates,” Lisa said, “because I sure do.”

  “Listen to me—”

  “No, I’m done with this, you cold-hearted sonofabitch,” Lisa said. “I’m not leaving anyone behind. Not again,” she said louder than she really wanted to.

  ........

  Jonathan Sanchez looked at Charles Mapother. The IMSI director was clearly pissed at being hung up on by one of his assets.

  “What the hell’s wrong with her?” he asked.

  “Shouldn’t we try to call her back?” Caprini asked. The three of them were in Mapother’s office where they had listened in on the conversation.

  “What do you think, Jonathan?” Mapother asked.

  “Give her a few minutes, Charles. She’s upset and can’t think straight,” he replied.

  “Lisa’s a trained asset, Jonathan,” Mapother replied, hitting his desk with his fist. “These things shouldn’t happen. Never. My assets do as they’re told, goddam it!”

  Sanchez understood Mapother’s anger. He treated his assets in the field like his children and had always backed them no matter what. The only thing he asked in exchange for his unconditional support was for them to obey his orders. And now Lisa had gone haywire. Mapother was in uncharted territory and Sanchez doubted he knew what to do.

  “As I said, Charles, give her a few minutes. She’ll come around.”

  “How can you be so sure?” Caprini asked.

  “I’m not,” he conceded. “But I know that if you try to call her back right away, she’ll hang up again and we’ll lose her for good.”

  There was one thing he knew that nobody else in the room did. Right after the terrorist attack that had wiped out her entire family, he had visited Lisa at the hospital. She had no idea who he was at the time and she’d been convinced she had lost Mike too. He had introduced himself as a friend of Mike and had offered her a way to get back at the Sheik. She had jumped at it and had proven herself not only during the IMSI asset training but also in the field. But there was something Sanchez had never shared with Mapother or the psychologists at the IMSI. When he had first made contact with Lisa in her hospital room, she’d been in the bathroom and just about to slit her wrists with a broken piece of glass from the mirror she had shattered. Sanchez had seen with his own eye
s how desperate Lisa had been at that moment. But he had also seen the sheer dedication she exhibited when offered the chance to get her revenge on the man responsible for her losses. Sanchez knew the sweet taste of vengeance had pushed Lisa through training and kept her alive in the field. Still, a doubt had always lingered in the back of his mind about what she’d do if she had to choose between obeying orders or pushing through with a mission that would allow her a chance to get close to the Sheik. Deep down, the answer had always been there but he’d chosen to ignore it. And now it was biting him in the ass. If Mapother knew what Sanchez had seen at the hospital, he would have never allowed her to become a field asset. Too fragile, he would have said. The problem was that if he hadn’t convinced Lisa to join the IMSI, Mike would have refused too. And they needed Mike. Badly. Someone with Mike’s skill set who had a personal vendetta against the man the IMSI had been tasked to take down was a dream come true. And they had nearly succeeded, first in Spain and then in Croatia. Only luck had saved the Sheik, but the IMSI had nevertheless delivered a solid blow to his network. Sanchez was confident that this time around, with the help of Zima, the IMSI would finally put an end to the Sheik.

  “I’m done waiting,” Mapother announced. “Put me through to her, Anna.”

  Anna walked back to her desk in the bubble. Seconds later, Sanchez could hear Lisa’s phone ringing as Mapother had put his on speaker.

  Come on, Lisa, pick up the damn phone. When the call went to voicemail after a half-dozen rings, they tried again. This time, it went straight to voicemail.

  Mapother looked at him. “Now what?”

  ........

  Lisa Walton left the battery in her phone, knowing it would allow the IMSI to track her. She reckoned it would be easier to ask for forgiveness than to ask permission to go after Dr. Galkin’s wife. Charles Mapother was upset—maybe even hysterical—at her right now, but he’d come through for her when she needed his assistance to exfil once she had Dr. Galkin’s wife in tow. How could he even think about leaving her behind? He was a better man than that.

  Using the car navigation system, she found her way to Dr. Galkin’s apartment building. She made one pass and had to trust the navigation system to be precise. The light in front of the building wasn’t on, preventing her from confirming the address. If it was indeed the correct address, it was a five-story, pleasant-looking edifice in which all the units had a balcony facing the street. There was only one entrance, but she couldn’t see if a key was needed to get in. It was well past midnight, and she hadn’t seen anyone in the street except one man walking his dog. She parked the Volkswagen three streets north of Dr. Galkin’s apartment. Aware that the Russians—or the Sheik for that matter—might already have sent someone to pick up Sophia, she hoped she wasn’t too late. She would have welcomed the luxury of properly monitoring the area for longer, but it was impossible. Every second counted.

  Before opening the door, she made sure the interior lights were disabled. Never having driven this car before, it took her a moment to find the switch. She climbed out of the car and walked straight to Sophia’s building, while doing her best to avoid the patches of light offered by the streetlamps.

  The weather was brutal. A strong northerly wind had picked up since she had left the airport and she longed for warmer clothes. She shivered from the cold and tears formed in her eyes. She turned up the collar of her coat to protect her neck. The message had said that Sophia’s apartment was on the second floor. Number 202.

  She tried the main door of the building. Unlocked. Another door separated the vestibule from the small lobby. She needed someone to buzz her in. There was an old-school panel on the wall on which all the tenant names were written next to their apartment number. She picked up the handset attached to the panel and dialed the number two-zero-two. Nothing. She tried star-two-zero-two. She heard a click and it started to ring.

  The door clicked open. She replaced the handset, wondering why someone would let a stranger walk into the building at this hour without first checking who they were.

  Lisa wished she had a gun with her. Was someone waiting for her? If that was the case and she had just walked into a trap, it was too late to do anything about it.

  She called the elevator. The doors slid open.

  ........

  Jonathan Sanchez looked at the screen in front of him. He could hear Charles Mapother breathing behind him. “She did that on purpose, didn’t she?” he asked.

  Sanchez nodded. “Of course she did. She ain’t stupid, our Lisa.”

  “Is that the address?”

  “It is. She’s in.”

  “When can we get eyes on target?” Mapother asked.

  “Everybody’s trying to find a solution but there are no street cams in Koltsovo we can hack into.”

  “So we’re blind.”

  Sanchez knew how Mapother hated it when he had no control over an operation. He didn’t show it, but Sanchez was good at analyzing people’s behavior, and for him it was obvious that Mapother was stressed out. Sanchez had noticed a big change in Mapother’s demeanor since the attempt on his life.

  “I need to contact DNI Phillips about what’s going on, Jonathan. Please let everyone know that I want all hands on deck to help Lisa. I need an exfil plan in case she succeeds at convincing Sophia Galkin to leave with her.”

  “Will do,” replied Sanchez.

  CHAPTER 39

  Koltsovo, Russia

  A faint odor of coffee and burnt toast reached Lisa’s nose as soon as she stepped out of the elevator. She made a right into the hallway but turned around when she realized she wasn’t heading in the right direction. Apartment 202 was at the end of the hallway. As she approached the apartment, its door opened and an older lady stuck her head out, saying something in Russian.

  Lisa waved at her. It’s like she’s expecting me. How could this be? The woman waved back but her demeanor changed when Lisa reached her door. She once again said something in Russian but this time her door was almost shut.

  “Can I come in?” Lisa asked in English.

  “Who are you? You’re not with the government,” the lady replied in heavily accented English.

  “No, I’m not. I’m a friend of your husband. You’re Sophia, right?” The lady nodded. “Can I come in?” Lisa repeated.

  Sophia stepped away and opened the door to let Lisa in.

  “Tea?”

  “We have very little time, Sophia,” Lisa said, following Galkin’s wife to the kitchen. “Your husband needs you. He asked me to come and get you.”

  “My husband took a plane to Moscow earlier today,” Sophia replied, adding water to a teapot. “Why would he need me in Moscow? He knows I hate it there. And who are you again?”

  Lisa guessed that Sophia was in her mid sixties. She looked in great shape and her eyes betrayed her above-average intelligence. “Why did you let me in, Sophia?”

  “Someone from my husband’s office called me an hour ago to let me know someone needed to talk to me urgently. I thought you were that person.”

  Lisa looked at Sophia, trying to detect any signs of treachery. She didn’t see any. “They want to kill you, Sophia,” she said. “You have to trust me.” That got Sophia’s attention.

  “What’s the code?”

  “What code?”

  “My husband didn’t really send you. I don’t know who you are, but you’re lying.”

  Lisa’s eyes locked onto Sophia’s. “No, I’m not lying. I swear.”

  “My husband and I have a code. If something happens to one of us, and we need to pass on a message to the other using a messenger, we use a code. We always did. And you don’t know the code,” Sophia said, her tone becoming more and more aggressive as she spoke. Lisa tried to gently approach her but the woman stepped back and reached for the knife block sitting on the counter.

  By the time Lisa reached he
r, Sophia was holding a small carving knife.

  “You don’t want to do this, Sophia,” Lisa pleaded. She didn’t want to hurt the woman but the situation was slipping out of her control. Mapother hadn’t mentioned a code in his mission brief. Surely he would have been aware such a code existed. Unless . . . Unless there’s no code and Sophia is just wasting time.

  When the door of the apartment burst opened, Lisa’s first instinct was to protect Sophia. But when she heard the familiar sound of a grenade striking the tile floor she hit the ground while opening her mouth and placing her hands over her ears. She had no way of knowing what kind of grenade it was, but chances were it was a stun grenade. Even though she was right, the force of the blast still shocked her.

  Time was up. They needed to get out of there. Now. She turned toward Sophia just in time to see a flash of steel but not in time to move completely out of the way. Lisa partially blocked the knife but it slashed through her coat and into her forearm. Lisa used her left hand to strike the older lady on the throat before using her elbow to strike down on her wrist. The knife fell to ground. Lisa had no idea how deep the cut was but she didn’t yet feel the intense pain a knife cut usually delivered. It would be coming soon, though. Of that she was sure. But, for now, she was still able to use both her arms. Lisa grabbed a larger knife from the knife block just as two men entered the kitchen. Lisa threw the knife at the first assailant, forcing him back into the hallway, and she picked up the one Sophia had dropped. She put in her pocket.

  The patio door leading to the balcony was only twenty feet away. Could she make it? A jump from the second floor wouldn’t kill her, right? No, but you might break a leg. Maybe she should have listened to Mike and Charles and not come here.

  It was too late for second guesses now. She jumped over the counter and sprinted to the patio door. She had just unlocked it when she heard the first shot. The bullet passed inches from her head and the second was even closer. Its impact shattered the patio door. The fact that they weren’t using silencers told her they weren’t afraid to get caught. These men were either above the law or didn’t fear it.