Shadow of Victory - eARC Read Free Page A

private air car his unknown rescuer had tucked away in an underground parking garage five minutes’ walk from the aborted ambush’s site sped swiftly through the Meyers sky. Under other circumstances, he might have been concerned about a police pursuit, but some strange malady had overtaken the security cameras covering the entire floor on which the air car had been parked. Somehow he hadn’t been as surprised as perhaps he should have been to see the blinking “disabled” lights.
    At the moment, he sat in the front passenger seat, one hand inside his own tunic with its fingers curled around the comfort of a pulser butt. Not that he wasn’t grateful for his rescue, of course.
    “That, I’m very much afraid, Captain,” the pilot said calmly, never looking away from his HUD, although he had to be aware of the weapon fifty centimeters from his ribcage, “was an attempt to tidy up loose ends. I’m sure you’re aware of how the process works.”
    “And just what might make me a ‘loose end’?”
    “Your recent Talbott activities. You know—the ones in places like Montana, Kornati, Mainwaring. Those activities.”
    “Suppose I told you I don’t have any idea what you’re talking about?”
    “Well, in that case, I imagine I’d have to conclude that at least one of us was an idiot. Or that he believed the other one was an idiot, anyway.” He smiled, turning to look at Harahap for the first time, and shook his head. “Since I know neither of us fit that description, I’m sure you don’t think I happened along by sheer coincidence.”
    “No, I don’t,” Harahap conceded. “On the other hand, I’m still waiting to find out why you did happen along.”
    “Ms. Anisimovna asked me to keep an eye on you,” the pilot said, and despite himself, Harahap’s nostrils flared.
    “And why might Ms. Anisimovna have asked you to do that?” he asked after a moment.
    “Because you needed looking after?” the other suggested with a broader smile, and—despite himself—Harahap felt himself smile back.
    “Under the circumstances, I’ll give you that one,” he said. “But I’d still like to know what the hell is going on before you land this air car somewhere I might not like. So while I’m suitably grateful and all, maybe you’d better explain things in a little more depth.”
    “If you like,” the other agreed. He locked the autopilot stud, putting the air car on its current flight plan, and slid his chair back from the console so he could turn it to face Harahap fully.
    “First, my name is Rufino Chernyshev.” He saw the look in Harahap’s eyes and chuckled. “No, really it is! It’s not the one on my pilot’s license, of course, but since I’m inclined to hope we’ll wind up on the same team, I don’t really mind sharing it with you.”
    Harahap nodded affably, although he could think of another reason Chernyshev might be willing to share his real name. After all, he’d have a hard time passing it along to anyone else if he ended up dead.
    “The really, really short version of ‘what the hell is going on,’ is that the operation for which Major Eichbauer was kind enough to lend you to Ms. Anisimovna and her associates has misfired pretty spectacularly. It’s likely the fallout’s going to get a lot worse before it gets any better, and at least some of those associates of hers are worried about getting their fingers burned. One of them decided to cut any strings that might lead back to his involvement. Ms. Anisimovna was afraid he might do that, which is why she asked me to look after you. Unfortunately,” Chernyshev’s expression tightened for a moment, “I wasn’t able to get to Major Eichbauer in time.”
    “Ulrike’s dead?” Harahap’s voice was flat, almost disinterested, and his eyes showed no emotion at all, which anyone who knew him well would have recognized as a very bad sign.
    “I’m afraid so.” Chernyshev shook his head. “I took out the team that killed her, but I