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Authors: James Patterson
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that?”
“Who the hell cares about Dick Clark, Dick Tracy, or dickless,” said Zoya, and hammered Slava’s biceps with her fist. “Stop this stupid trivia game. It gives me a headache. Excedrin headache number one trillion since I met you.”
The target certainly fit the description they had been given by their controller: tall, blond, ice queen, full of herself.
But also tasty down to the last detail,
thought Slava. It made sense, he supposed. She had been purchased by a client who called himself the Art Director.
The Couple waited about fifty minutes. A middle school choir from Broomall, Pennsylvania, was performing in the atrium. Then the target and her two kids emerged from the restaurant.
“Let’s do it,” said Slava. “This should be interesting, no? The kids make it a challenge.”
“No,” Zoya said. “The kids make it insane. Wait until the Wolf hears about this. He’ll have puppies. That’s American slang, by the way.”
Chapter 24
THE NAME OF THE WOMAN who’d been purchased was Audrey Meek. She was a celebrity, having founded a highly successful line of women’s fashions and accessories called Meek. It was her mother’s maiden name, and the one she used herself.
The Couple watched her closely, tailed her into the parking garage without creating suspicion. They jumped her as she was putting her Neiman Marcus and Hermès and other shopping bags into a shiny black Lexus SUV with New Jersey plates.
“Children, run! Run away!” Audrey Meek struggled fiercely as Zoya tried to stuff an acrid-smelling gauzy cloth over her nose and mouth. Soon she saw circles, stars, and bright colors for a few dramatic seconds. Then she finally passed out in Slava’s powerful arms.
Zoya peered around the parking garage. It was nothing much to look at—cement walls with number and letter marks. Nobody anywhere near them. Nobody noticing anything wrong, even though the children were yelling and starting to cry.
“Leave my mommy alone!” Andrew Meek shouted, and threw punches at Slava, who only smiled at the boy. “Good little fellow,” he applauded. “Protect your mama. She would be proud of you. I am proud of you.”
“Let’s go, stupid!” shouted Zoya. As always, she was the one who took care of all the important business. It had been that way since she was growing up in the Moskovskaya oblast outside Moscow and had decided she couldn’t bear to be either a factory worker or a prostitute.
“What about the kids? We can’t leave them here,” said Slava.
“
Leave
them. That’s what we’re supposed to do, you idiot. We
want
witnesses. That’s the plan. Can’t you keep anything straight?”
“In the garage? Leave them here?”
“They’ll be fine. Or not. Who the hell cares? C’mon. We must go. Now!”
They drove off in the Lexus with the target, Audrey Meek, unconscious on the backseat and her two children wailing in the parking garage. Zoya drove at a moderate speed around the mall, then turned onto the Dekalb Pike.
They traveled only a few minutes to the Valley Forge National Historical Park, where they switched cars.
Then another eight miles to a remote parking area where they changed vehicles yet again.
Then off to Ottsville, in the Bucks County area of Pennsylvania. Soon Mrs. Meek would meet the Art Director, who was madly in love with her. He must have been—he had paid $250,000 for the pleasure of her company, whatever that might be.
And there had been witnesses to the abduction—a screwup—
on purpose.
Chapter 25
NO ONE HAD been able to figure out the Wolf yet. According to information from Interpol and the Russian police, he was a no-nonsense, hands-on operator, who had originally been trained as a policeman. Like many Russians, he was able to think in very fluid, commonsense terms. That native ability was sometimes given as the reason the Mir space station was able to stay in space so long. The Russian cosmonauts were simply better than the Americans at figuring out
“Who the hell cares about Dick Clark, Dick Tracy, or dickless,” said Zoya, and hammered Slava’s biceps with her fist. “Stop this stupid trivia game. It gives me a headache. Excedrin headache number one trillion since I met you.”
The target certainly fit the description they had been given by their controller: tall, blond, ice queen, full of herself.
But also tasty down to the last detail,
thought Slava. It made sense, he supposed. She had been purchased by a client who called himself the Art Director.
The Couple waited about fifty minutes. A middle school choir from Broomall, Pennsylvania, was performing in the atrium. Then the target and her two kids emerged from the restaurant.
“Let’s do it,” said Slava. “This should be interesting, no? The kids make it a challenge.”
“No,” Zoya said. “The kids make it insane. Wait until the Wolf hears about this. He’ll have puppies. That’s American slang, by the way.”
Chapter 24
THE NAME OF THE WOMAN who’d been purchased was Audrey Meek. She was a celebrity, having founded a highly successful line of women’s fashions and accessories called Meek. It was her mother’s maiden name, and the one she used herself.
The Couple watched her closely, tailed her into the parking garage without creating suspicion. They jumped her as she was putting her Neiman Marcus and Hermès and other shopping bags into a shiny black Lexus SUV with New Jersey plates.
“Children, run! Run away!” Audrey Meek struggled fiercely as Zoya tried to stuff an acrid-smelling gauzy cloth over her nose and mouth. Soon she saw circles, stars, and bright colors for a few dramatic seconds. Then she finally passed out in Slava’s powerful arms.
Zoya peered around the parking garage. It was nothing much to look at—cement walls with number and letter marks. Nobody anywhere near them. Nobody noticing anything wrong, even though the children were yelling and starting to cry.
“Leave my mommy alone!” Andrew Meek shouted, and threw punches at Slava, who only smiled at the boy. “Good little fellow,” he applauded. “Protect your mama. She would be proud of you. I am proud of you.”
“Let’s go, stupid!” shouted Zoya. As always, she was the one who took care of all the important business. It had been that way since she was growing up in the Moskovskaya oblast outside Moscow and had decided she couldn’t bear to be either a factory worker or a prostitute.
“What about the kids? We can’t leave them here,” said Slava.
“
Leave
them. That’s what we’re supposed to do, you idiot. We
want
witnesses. That’s the plan. Can’t you keep anything straight?”
“In the garage? Leave them here?”
“They’ll be fine. Or not. Who the hell cares? C’mon. We must go. Now!”
They drove off in the Lexus with the target, Audrey Meek, unconscious on the backseat and her two children wailing in the parking garage. Zoya drove at a moderate speed around the mall, then turned onto the Dekalb Pike.
They traveled only a few minutes to the Valley Forge National Historical Park, where they switched cars.
Then another eight miles to a remote parking area where they changed vehicles yet again.
Then off to Ottsville, in the Bucks County area of Pennsylvania. Soon Mrs. Meek would meet the Art Director, who was madly in love with her. He must have been—he had paid $250,000 for the pleasure of her company, whatever that might be.
And there had been witnesses to the abduction—a screwup—
on purpose.
Chapter 25
NO ONE HAD been able to figure out the Wolf yet. According to information from Interpol and the Russian police, he was a no-nonsense, hands-on operator, who had originally been trained as a policeman. Like many Russians, he was able to think in very fluid, commonsense terms. That native ability was sometimes given as the reason the Mir space station was able to stay in space so long. The Russian cosmonauts were simply better than the Americans at figuring out
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