Read Online Flight of the Raven by REBECCA YORK - Free Book Online Page A
Authors: REBECCA YORK
Tags: Suspense
Ads: Link
operation.”
“Of course.”
“Then that increases the risk to me personally. What if someone who doesn’t know about the operation misinterprets what I’m doing? What if they think I really am the Raven? My career could be destroyed, or I could end up as dead as Kiril Ivanov.”
The general stroked his chin. “You accepted certain risks, Major Rozonov, when you joined our ranks.”
“Granted. But I’d be happier about this project if you would document your orders and put them in my file.”
Bogolubov shrugged. “As you wish.”
“Thank you, Comrade General.” Aleksei’s tone of voice was deferential but both men knew who had won that round.
* * *
B RADLEY F ITZPATRICK zipped up the black evening bag that had been dumped downtown in a Madrid mailbox and returned to the U.S. embassy by the Spanish civil guard Sunday morning.
According to the inventory Julie had given him, nothing inside was missing except the ten thousand pesetas she’d tucked into her wallet. However, the lining of the bag had been carefully slit in several places, as though the thief had been searching for something hidden inside. And when Fitzpatrick began to look more closely, he noted that her identification card was bent, as though it had been hurriedly stuffed back into its plastic holder. He’d seen his share of personal belongings returned to American citizens via the mail once the cash and values were removed, but the condition of this purse and wallet didn’t match the scenario of a simple robbery.
His mind flashed back to the note of panic in Julie’s voice when she’d called him from the Gran Via Friday night. Then he’d put it down to the stress of having been victimized.
Lord, he thought. Last Thursday Cal Dixon had called him in and made some pretty nasty allegations about Dan Eisenberg before firing off a barrage of questions about Julie’s relationship with the captain. Fitzpatrick had practically laid his career on the line defending her. Now he had to wonder exactly what the hell was going on.
Sighing, he picked up the phone. He had no choice but to call Cal.
Forty-five minutes later, Eduardo buzzed Julie’s apartment to tell her two colleagues from the office were downstairs. The Sunday paper was spread across the kitchen table, and she hadn’t yet bothered to get dressed.
“Send them up in five minutes,” she instructed the portero. By the time the knock came at the door, she was tucking a plaid shirt into the waistband of her jeans.
“Fitz, Cal?” Julie peered into the hallway, looking from one unreadable face to the other. A wave of apprehension suddenly made her feel cold in the cotton shirt she wore. “What’s happening?”
“We’ve come to take you for a walk, Julie,” Fitz replied, his voice vaguely apologetic.
“A walk?” What in the world was going on?
“In Retiro Park,” Cal added.
The well-groomed area with its wide paths, gardens, and lake was one of her favorite parts of the city. But from the tone of Cal’s voice and the somber expression on the two men’s faces, she suspected she wasn’t going to enjoy this particular Sunday outing.
Chapter Five
“J ust let me get my purse.”
Cal and Fitz exchanged cryptic looks.
“Maybe you’d like to put your wallet in it,” the CIA man murmured.
She whirled to face him. “Was the evening bag returned?”
“Yes.”
Fitz offered her the brown paper bag that had been tucked under his arm.
When Julie reached inside, the purse was missing. Only its contents were there.
“Where...?”
Cal answered the question before she’d framed it. “We’ve sent it out to be cleaned.”
Oh, no, she thought. The cleaners was the code word for the forensic lab at Torrejon. She’d almost convinced herself that she’d been the victim of a simple robbery. Now she knew Cal Dixon didn’t think so. The realization made it suddenly hard to catch her breath. There were a dozen excuses she wanted to make and questions she burned to ask.
“Of course.”
“Then that increases the risk to me personally. What if someone who doesn’t know about the operation misinterprets what I’m doing? What if they think I really am the Raven? My career could be destroyed, or I could end up as dead as Kiril Ivanov.”
The general stroked his chin. “You accepted certain risks, Major Rozonov, when you joined our ranks.”
“Granted. But I’d be happier about this project if you would document your orders and put them in my file.”
Bogolubov shrugged. “As you wish.”
“Thank you, Comrade General.” Aleksei’s tone of voice was deferential but both men knew who had won that round.
* * *
B RADLEY F ITZPATRICK zipped up the black evening bag that had been dumped downtown in a Madrid mailbox and returned to the U.S. embassy by the Spanish civil guard Sunday morning.
According to the inventory Julie had given him, nothing inside was missing except the ten thousand pesetas she’d tucked into her wallet. However, the lining of the bag had been carefully slit in several places, as though the thief had been searching for something hidden inside. And when Fitzpatrick began to look more closely, he noted that her identification card was bent, as though it had been hurriedly stuffed back into its plastic holder. He’d seen his share of personal belongings returned to American citizens via the mail once the cash and values were removed, but the condition of this purse and wallet didn’t match the scenario of a simple robbery.
His mind flashed back to the note of panic in Julie’s voice when she’d called him from the Gran Via Friday night. Then he’d put it down to the stress of having been victimized.
Lord, he thought. Last Thursday Cal Dixon had called him in and made some pretty nasty allegations about Dan Eisenberg before firing off a barrage of questions about Julie’s relationship with the captain. Fitzpatrick had practically laid his career on the line defending her. Now he had to wonder exactly what the hell was going on.
Sighing, he picked up the phone. He had no choice but to call Cal.
Forty-five minutes later, Eduardo buzzed Julie’s apartment to tell her two colleagues from the office were downstairs. The Sunday paper was spread across the kitchen table, and she hadn’t yet bothered to get dressed.
“Send them up in five minutes,” she instructed the portero. By the time the knock came at the door, she was tucking a plaid shirt into the waistband of her jeans.
“Fitz, Cal?” Julie peered into the hallway, looking from one unreadable face to the other. A wave of apprehension suddenly made her feel cold in the cotton shirt she wore. “What’s happening?”
“We’ve come to take you for a walk, Julie,” Fitz replied, his voice vaguely apologetic.
“A walk?” What in the world was going on?
“In Retiro Park,” Cal added.
The well-groomed area with its wide paths, gardens, and lake was one of her favorite parts of the city. But from the tone of Cal’s voice and the somber expression on the two men’s faces, she suspected she wasn’t going to enjoy this particular Sunday outing.
Chapter Five
“J ust let me get my purse.”
Cal and Fitz exchanged cryptic looks.
“Maybe you’d like to put your wallet in it,” the CIA man murmured.
She whirled to face him. “Was the evening bag returned?”
“Yes.”
Fitz offered her the brown paper bag that had been tucked under his arm.
When Julie reached inside, the purse was missing. Only its contents were there.
“Where...?”
Cal answered the question before she’d framed it. “We’ve sent it out to be cleaned.”
Oh, no, she thought. The cleaners was the code word for the forensic lab at Torrejon. She’d almost convinced herself that she’d been the victim of a simple robbery. Now she knew Cal Dixon didn’t think so. The realization made it suddenly hard to catch her breath. There were a dozen excuses she wanted to make and questions she burned to ask.
Similar Books
