Day Of Wrath Read Free Page B

untouchables.”
    Careful to hide his surprise, Thorn shook hands with the slender, fair-haired man. “Glad to meet you, Major.”
    He wouldn’t have suspected Koniev was a plainclothes policeman—especially not one with such a high rank. He looked too young and his clothes seemed wrong somehow. The Russian’s jacket, shirt, and jeans, though clearly rugged and durable, were also immaculately tailored and expensivelooking.
    Faint warning bells rang in Thorn’s mind. MVD officers were charged with protecting Russia against everything from outright rebellion to organized crime—a sort of National Guard and FBI all rolled up into one. But they were also notoriously poorly paid.
    So how could this Koniev character afford the latest Western outdoor wear?
    He knew one of the possible answers to that question. The need to pad their skinflint salaries led a lot of MVD officers down the road to corruption. Russia’s powerful criminal syndicates were only too willing to distribute generous bribes to bury their hooks deep inside the government and its law enforcement agencies.
    He made a mental note to keep a close eye on Koniev. His first impressions of the MVD officer were favorable. But first impressions could get you killed. And even old friends could betray you. He’d learned that lesson the hard way in Iran two years before.
    “Permit me to introduce you to my American colleague, Special Agent Helen Gray of your FBI ,” Koniev continued.
    Thorn turned to the slim, pretty, darkhaired woman at the Russian major’s side, noting the faint smile she was trying unsuccessfully to conceal. Her eyes seemed even bluer than he remembered.
    “Thank you, Major,” he said gravely. “But Special Agent Gray and I already know each other fairly well.”
    She nodded calmly. “I thought you might try to poke your nose under this tent, Colonel Thorn. But I didn’t see your name on the flight manifest. How exactly did you manage to swing an invitation from the NTSB?”
    “Held my breath. Refused to eat my lunch. Threatened to wire their office coffeepots with C-4. All the usual stuff,” Thorn said flatly.
    He shrugged. “They finally caved in.”
    Helen laughed softly. “I see you’re still as smooth and charming as ever, Peter.”
    Koniev had been swinging his head from one to the other in growing puzzlement. Now he snapped his fingers. “Ah!
    Now I understand. You are old friends, yes?”
    Without taking his eyes off Helen Gray, Thorn answered quietly, “Yes, Major, that’s right. We’re old friends. Very old friends.”
    An-32 Crash Site, Near the Ileksa River, Northern Russia Colonel Peter Thorn wearily pushed back the hood of the rubberized chemical protection suit he’d been given. He wiped the sweat and dirt off his brow. After spending two hours tramping across the crash site with Major Koniev, he needed a breather.
    He and the MVD officer were alone on this trek. True to form, Helen Gray had surveyed the debris field on her own as soon as she’d arrived on the scene. Right now she was busy setting up the joint FBI/ MVD investigative team’s communications and coordinating their plans with Mamontov and Nielsen.
    His thoughts strayed to Helen. The female FBI agent was the only woman who had ever really gotten under his skin.
    Thorn shook his head ruefully. Why use the past tense? His heart still skipped a beat whenever he saw her. Or talked to her.
    Or even thought about her.
    Certainly, when he’d argued his way onto this mission, he’d hoped their paths might cross. After all, even this long after the end of the Cold War, the official American community in Moscow was still a small, close-knit world. And they hadn’t seen each other for six long months—not since the FBI had sent her to Moscow as a legal attache.
    A couple of eagerly anticipated visits had been shortcircuited by work emergencies-both on her end. As a legal attache, Helen was the FBI’s eyes and ears inside Russian law enforcement.
    With drug