Free The Kremlin Phoenix by Stephen Renneberg Page B

moments before the helo passed overhead, unaware of
his hiding place.
    Nogorev climbed down the narrow
ladder into the tunnel’s blanketing darkness before switching on the flashlight.
The tunnel was filled with the drip of water and the occasional squeal of rats,
neither of which concerned him in the least. He had hours of splashing through
stinking dark tunnels ahead of him, but he knew he’d escaped.
     
    * * * *
     
    “Can I borrow your laptop, in case I
need to read the flash drive?” Craig asked as he sipped his morning coffee.
    Nikki sat in front of the
television, dressed in her negligee and holding a bowel of breakfast cereal. “Sure,
it’s on the table.”
    He retrieved her small computer
and locked it in his brief case.
    “Craig!” Nikki yelled, pointing
at the television screen. She grabbed the remote control and boosted the volume.
    “. . . wanted
in connection with the fatal shooting of an as yet unidentified man yesterday at
a Manhattan restaurant ,” a female voice reported as Yegor Demidoff’s covered
body was wheeled out of Romano’s and loaded into a forensic vehicle. “Balard is also wanted for the murders of three prominent New
York lawyers and a police officer. A gun believed to be the murder weapon, and
registered to Balard, was recovered from the house of one of the victims, a Mr
Philip Powell, early this morning. Police are appealing to the public to report
any sighting of Balard, but warn not to approach him as he is considered to be
armed and highly dangerous . . .”
    When the bulletin ended, Nikki
turned the sound down. “You should turn yourself in. Explain what happened. If
this killer is after you, the police can help you.”
    “They couldn’t protect Powell,”
Craig said, sad to discover the third partner of his law firm was now dead.
    “Tell them he stole your gun. Show
them your apartment. They’ll believe you.”
    “Even if they did, they wouldn’t
let me leave the country, and right now, I have to go to find this Valentina
woman in London.” He could have added, the strange woman who appeared each time
his life was in danger had told him to give the MLI master list to Valentina,
although not why. “When I get back, I’ll sort this out.”
    “Suppose they’ve put you on a
watch list?”
    “Then it’ll be a short trip!”
    Nikki knew his mind was made up. “I
suppose you want me to drive you to the airport?”
    “There’d be less chance of being
recognized if you did.”
    “I’m too good for you,” she said,
shaking her head.
    He smiled. “I was hoping you
wouldn’t find out.”
     
    * * * *
     
    Nikki’s car pulled up beside the
airport terminal ninety minutes before Craig’s flight was due to depart. She
gave him a long hug and a short kiss, tears welling in her eyes.
    “I’ll be back in a few days.”
    “You better be!” she said.
    Craig climbed out of the car,
waved as she drove off, then hurried into the terminal. He checked in, collected
his seat allocation, then strolled through the terminal killing time until his
plane boarded. At a news stand, stacks of newspapers fresh off the presses were
on sale. He went to pick up the New York Times, and saw his face splashed
across the front page. It was a grainy rendition of his driver’s license
picture, when his hair was shorter. He turned sharply and walked away from the
newsstand, feeling as if his own face now betrayed him as one of the country’s
most wanted men.
    Desperate to hide his face, he
walked into the men’s room and locked himself in a cubicle. There was still fifty
minutes until his plane boarded. He hid there for over half an hour, then with
barely enough time to board the plane, he slipped the bolt back and headed
towards passport control. No one paid him any attention as he crossed the
terminal at a brisk pace, appearing to be a businessman late for a flight.
    He joined a line, keeping his
face down to avoid security cameras. When he handed his passport to the
immigration officer,