Jake Maroc - Shan Part 18

Yet, for Daniella, who had schooled herself to the catechisms of power, Carelin was a man who held infinitely more allure than the more notorious powermongers inside the Kremlin. He possessed something far more valuable, princ.i.p.ally because he did not seek the international limelight: an exceptional inner strength.

That was why Genachev came to him" for advice. Carelin was not a man who sought continually to expand his power base. He possessed a confidence of self that Daniella greatly admired. He moved in the shadows, along the corridors of power, whispering in the right ears and creating policy while avoiding the lethal purges that were part of any highly ideologized political system. Maluta had called him egoless; the truth was that Carelin had subordinated ego to strategy, and that was rare indeed in the world.

It seemed to Daniella that Mikhail Carelin was filled with a wonderful, ineffable peace. And sharing that peacefulness brought her a great deal of joy.

Joy as opposed to pleasure. Daniella had sought and gained pleasure from a great many men. The male of the species, she had found, could be trained to give enormous pleasure. Not so with joy. Joy was an innate characteristic. It could not be taught. On the contrary, it was so elemental a quality that it simply was. But its existence was rarevery rare indeed, according to Daniella's experience. Mikhail Carelin gave her joy and thus he was precious to her as no man before him had ever been.

This, of course, was a continual source of surprise to Daniella. She was usedhad become used perforce by circ.u.mstanceto manipulating men as a defensive counter to their manipulation of her. It was when she moved from defensive to offensive strategyas with Karpov and Lantin, in whose bed they now satthat her career took off like a rocket.

Carelin was different. Perhaps it had begun in the same way. Had she seduced him? Memoryand emotion, of coursetended to obscure certain facts and now their romantic origins were misted over, as if they were the stuff of Carelin's legends instead of, simply, her life. The mythos of Daniella and Mikhail. The thought of that sometimes made her laugh. At other times, it caused her to hug his lean strong body to hers.

It was at those times that Daniella understood that she was afraid of his leaving her. It was an irrational fear, to be sure. She had no doubts about Carelin. He loved her fiercely and completely, but with none of the slavish devotion that had disgusted her in many of her lovers.

She knew the difference. In them, she had manufactured their love, and so, in the end, it had turned rancid in its artificiality. She had had to do nothing in Carelin's case. He loved her. Period.

"Come, koshka," he whispered. "Lie down again."

And Daniella listened to him, as Genachev listened to him during the day. Her body relaxed, surrounded by his warmth. She melted, her eyes closed, She sighed deeply.

In her sleep, she spoke Oleg Maluta's name and Carelin, wrapped up in her, staring at the play of pale lights across the bedroom ceiling, heard her.

Maluta, he thought.

And when she awoke near dawn, he said, "Tell me about Oleg Maluta."

On her guard, Daniella said, "I don't understand."

"Tell me, koshka," he said, "why you are frightened of him."

"Why do you say that?"

"Because he stalks your dreams." Carelin turned to her. "Even in your sleep you speak his name with hate and fear."

She reached out and touched his cheek with the flat of her hand. "Why weren't you asleep, lyubimi?"

Carelin smiled. "I was listening to the night. I was thinking. And I heard you call out his name. *Maluta, you said."

"What else?"

"Only *Maluta.' "

Now Daniella was on the cusp. It had been an eternity since she confided anything in a man. She wished to with Carelin, which was precisely why she hesitated to do it. There was danger. In matters of the heart one was always betrayed. This she had learned by hard experience. Still, a heart in love longs to share, for that sharing brings with it another kind of intimacy. The kind that transforms pleasure into joy.

"I want to tell you" bit off her words in midsentence. Remembering: In this war, you are either with me or against me, Maluta had said. The snow, the stillness of the night, the rasp of Oleg Maluta's voice across her heart. The taste of ashes in her mouth as she saw the light go out of Alexei's eyes, her finger trembling on the trigger, her ears echoing with white sound in the aftermath, choking on the cordite fumes."

And Maluta taking the pistol from her hand so that only her prints would be on it. A weapon hidden away, never to be fired again but ready to be used against her. I want you to understand that I can have you brought up on murder charges at any time.

"Koshka" Carelin said.

"Make love to me."

"Koshka, the pain I see behind your eyes"

"Do as I ask, lyubimi." Her hands moving along the planes of his torso. "Please."

Carelin enwrapped her, his palms cupping her hard high b.r.e.a.s.t.s. The pads of his thumbs rubbed her nipples and she gasped, burying her head in his shoulder. A thick wing of hair pa.s.sed across his face, smelling of lavender and citrus.

His hand wove patterns down to her belly and beneath. Found that she was already wet and open. He turned, lifting her over and up, on top of him. Her thighs opened like the petals of a flower.

He entered her and at the same time bit into her cinnamon flesh.

Daniella thought that she would faint. Her back rested against his muscular chest. She could feel his heartbeat, his pulse accelerating as he slid further and further up into her. Her head went back and her eyelids fluttered.

She felt him inside her like a second heartbeat. The pleasure as he bucked up against her was a solid cylinder that reached all the way up to the top of her head. She was on fire.

His hands kneaded her b.r.e.a.s.t.s gently, pulling at her nipples, making her shiver and pant with wanting. "Lyubimi," she said. "Lyubimi."

She began to rotate her hips, giving an added motion when he was in all the way so that her inner muscles caressed the very end of him. She could hear his little cries, feel his hot breath in her ear. He seemed to be talking but it was in a language that registered only on her soul. It was as if they were joined from the inside out instead of the other way around.

Her fingertips urged him onward; at the same time she was urging herself on.

"Koshka!"

She felt that part of him not inside her drawn up, as hard as rocks. He expanded inside her. He was so deep.

Daniella's eyes, glazed and unseeing, opened wide. She could not catch her breath. Her thighs were trembling and they closed inward, trapping him, pushing him even further as he began to convulse beneath her.

In so doing he pushed hard against the roof of her and she cried out. Grinding her hips down hard against him, she was flooded with intense heat. Her insides had turned molten and she brought her own hands up over his, squeezing in on her sensitive b.r.e.a.s.t.s.

She did not stop moving until he popped out of her. Then she turned and whispered, "Hold me tight, darling. Hold me very tight," for the first time feeling fully the importance of this, too.

With the dawn's cool blue light, she said, "I want to tell you about Maluta." In this war, you are either with me or against me. Her fear of him blew like a cold wind against her heart. "I want to tell you everything." Because Maluta had made her cry, bitter tears stinging her cheeks and the snow all around her. The isolating snow, the tears he had forced out of her which had bared her heart to his avid gaze. He had accomplished what no man since Daniella's father had been able to do. He had made her feel like a little girl. He had forced her to shed her adult facade. He had stripped her naked before him and in a terrible way that would be indelibly etched in her mind he had raped her. Nakedness of the body was nothing compared to nakedness of the soul.

"Like a good Catholic, I want to confess."

Carelin, lying with one leg thrown across her thighs, said nothing. He felt the thick sheaf of her hair against his cheek, the sweetness of her breath. He stared into those cool gray eyes and thought of the storm-tossed Black Sea.

Outside, the wind had picked up. Handfuls of dry snow came rattling against the windowpanes and, now and again, the sounds of a vehicle pa.s.sing could be heard, chains clinking.

"How has he hurt you, koshka?"

"I work for him now." Her voice was low. If they had not been so close, Carelin did not believe that he would have heard her.

"b.a.s.t.a.r.d," he said quietly, evenly.

And by the tone of that single word he caused Daniella to relax. I am safe with him, she thought.

"He forced me to murder Alexei," she said in a choked voice. "He told me that he was using Alexei to spy on me. Then after I had put the gunhis gun, Maluta's weaponto Alexei's head and shot him, Maluta told me the truth. *That a man was out there in the night, taking pictures of me.

"He's there now, I've no doubt."*

"Have you ever seen him? Do you know what he looks like?"

"M "

No.

Carelin thought for a moment. "What happened to the murder weapon?"

Daniella sat very still. Her eyes were dry; she seemed to have ceased to breathe. "Maluta took it. It has my fingerprints all over it. It is untraceable to Maluta. He has photos, as well."

"Of the murder."

Now came the crunch. "Of other things," she whispered. From unnatural stillness to unnatural movement. She had begun to shake all over again. What if, because of this, Mikhail left her? Her nerve ends were on fire at the thought. She did not think that she could face Maluta again, knowing that she was utterly alone.

"What other things?"

Daniella, burning up as with a fever, remained mute. Her tongue clove to the dry roof of her mouth. She felt a pressure on her vocal chords.

"Koshka," he said gently, "now you must finish what you have begun." He took her hand in his and just as if they were teenaged lovers beginning the intimidating ritual of physical intimacy, twining his fingers between hers, pressed hard in order to transfer his courage into her. "What could be so terrible?"

Daniella closed her eyes. She felt as if she were about to jump off a boat into ten fathoms of water. "What would your wife do, Mikhail, if she found out about us?"

He laughed, startling her. "Why worry about that, koshka? The only one she could hear it from is you and you won't tell her, will you?" Then he saw the expression of agony on her face.

"Maluta?" His voice was like the tolling of a bell in the room. "Maluta has photographs of us?"

Daniella nodded. She did not trust herself to speak.

Carelin put his head back against the wall. "Oh, koshka," he said, after a long time, "I think you've done us in."

"So you see," Threnody said, "it is most unlikely that either you or I will be afforded the opportunity to speak with Peter Curran again."

Simbal now understood Monica's reaction when he had brought up Curran's name. He and Max began to walk again, cued by some unspoken signal.

"What happened?"

"His car was turned into a ball of fire by a pound of plastique."

"Ouch." Simbal stopped. They had been walking for quite some time and the cold was getting to him. "I.D.?"

"We had only the skeleton to work with," Threnody said. "It's a physical match. DNT was impossible since Curran hadn't any dental work done. But he always wore a peculiar signet ring." Threnody took it out of his pocket. "He belonged to something called the h.e.l.lfire Club at college. Yale, I think it was. Anyway, we found the ring inside the car. Had to peel lots of blackened skin off it to make the I.D."

"That's it then."

Threnody blew on his hands. "It doesn't have to be."

Now Simbal had it. The something that had been going on at the periphery of Max's responses ever since they had met this afternoon clicked home.

"You want me to take Peter Curran's place infiltrating the diqui," Simbal said with some awe in his voice. "That's what you've wanted from the beginning."

"Yes and no." Threnody raised his hands. "Before you get your Irish up give me the benefit of the doubt. Hear me out. Then if you want to say no, just walk away and that will be the end of it.

"The truth is I need someone from outside the Department to continue this investigation. But, no, I do not want you to take Peter's place. He was up to some very unusual stuff. Which is precisely why I need you.

"After Peter left on this last mission it was discovered that certain, ah, doc.u.ments of a sensitive nature were missing from our files."

"Curran filched company goodies?"

The wind had shifted, gusting in from the water. Threnody pulled the collar of his loden coat up around his ears. "It would seem that way, yes."

"Can you tell me what he took?"

"Names, dates, places, operation networks."

"Jesus."

"Well put, Tony. Our friends on Capitol Hill would love to pull us apart on something like this. Congressional subcommittees live off mistakes like this."

Simbal turned to him. "Is that what you call it, a mistake?"

"Whatever name you care to put on it," Threnody said, "it needs to be fixed. And fixed with the utmost discretion. It would be most embarra.s.sing if this got around, even interdepartmentally." Simbal knew that he meant Donovan.

From behind them a siren sounded. When the ambulance had pa.s.sed and the normal traffic flow on the street had started up again, Simbal said, "I'll need full access to the DEA computer."

Threnody nodded. "You'll get whatever you need, Tony." He held out his hand and, when Simbal took it, gripped it hard.

The last of the rain slid down the gla.s.s. Inside the room it was very still so that the rhythmic sound of the respirator seemed harsh and alien.

Three Oaths played with the cord of the blinds, turning gray light darker, then lighter in minute increments. He stared through the bars the blinds made as if he were in prison.

"All G.o.ds destroy our enemies!" Three Oaths said. The sound of Bliss's deep breathing, the most tangible sign of her sedation, was like a knife twisting in his heart. Each tidal sigh brought another wave of anguish.

"The fornicating doctors know nothing," he despaired. "They are helpless, they say nothing. They will not even admit to ignorance. Bliss could die this very instant and they would not be able to do anything about it or even tell us what happened."

"Calm yourself, Elder Uncle," Jake said. "The doctor told us that the x-rays were negative. The EEC showed no internal trauma."

"Then why do they want to make more tests? Probe my daughter with their gwai loh machines?"

" *Certain anomalies in her brainwaves' is how the doctor put it."

"I don't understand," Three Oaths said.

"Neither, I think, do the doctors."

"There, you see!" he cried. "It is just as I said."

"Routine, Elder Uncle. The anomalies are not life-threatening. Just puzzling."