Chapter twenty-six

Los Angeles

"You don't need to do this alone," Arvin said. "Let me come with you."

Jack was shoving clothes into a bag. He didn't stop what he was doing to address Arvin. "There's no use both of us losing our jobs."

He couldn't believe the Director had refused to sanction his going to Russia. "You've got vague information from a source you're not sure you can trust," the Director had said. "We've heard nothing from our people on the inside. The Russians don't kidnap little girls from ballet class, Jack. Go home and wait for the police to do their job."

"Jack," Arvin said, "You know I care about Sydney as if she was my own, but I agree with the Director on this one. I don't think the KGB is responsible for this."

Jack looked up and studied his friend. "What, then? It's been a week and the police have found nothing! I'm going crazy thinking about what could be happening to Sydney right now and I know – I just know . . ."

The last thing he packed was the book Irina had given Sydney; when he found her, he decided, they would continue reading it.

Arvin seemed hesitant to respond. "It's just – what happened with Laura – I can understand why you're reacting like this, but you can't seriously believe the Russians are behind every bad thing that happens to you."

"It's Christmas next week, Arvin. I'd like to spend it with my daughter." Jack zipped up his bag. "Now, will you give me a lift to the airport or do I need to call a cab?"

Cape Town

As part of her resolve to move on with her life, Irina had accepted Andrei's invitation to attend a friend's Christmas party with him. The cast on her wrist had finally been taken off and it was good to be able to feel something other than plaster on her skin.

Andrei's friends seemed nice, she thought as she glanced around the living room. A young married couple who never moved far from one another, a skinny woman wearing dark clothes and heavy make up, and another couple who were good-naturedly teasing each other.

Irina's gaze fell on the Christmas tree in the corner. In her mind's eye she saw their tree in Los Angeles and she felt the familiar tug at her chest. She took a deep breath and looked away. When she noticed that Andrei was watching her, she smiled to show she was okay.

A child ran into the room. "Mommy!"

Irina froze. Long brown hair in pigtails. Sydney.

No. She took another breath.

Elizabeth – the hostess – smiled as she hugged the child. "What are you doing down here, munchkin?"

"I want to come to the party too."

"But this is a grown-ups' party. But, tell you what; you can say hello to all of my friends and then it's bedtime, okay?"

"Okay."

The girl greeted each of the guests, then finally stopped in front of Irina. "Hello," she said.

"Hello." Irina didn't see her; all she saw was Sydney.

"Okay, Sarah. Back to bed."

Andrei sat next to Irina and touched her arm, bringing her back to reality. "Are you okay?"

She nodded.

"You're looking pale."

"I'm fine." She smiled weakly. "It's just, for a moment . . . Never mind. I'm fine."

Moscow

Jack sat on a bench in Gorky Park and watched the skaters. Now that he was here, he wondered if he'd made a mistake in coming. He'd been waiting for an hour, but the contact he was supposed to meet had failed to show up yet. Maybe he'd walked into a trap; he knew he was probably being watched. If he ended up in Lubyanka there was nothing he could do for Sydney.

No. He had to believe he'd done the right thing in coming. He would not – could not – fail Sydney.

He did not want to tell Irina that he hadn't been able to protect their child. If anything happened to Sydney, it would kill Irina.

Maybe he should have told her, he thought. She could have helped.

A gust of wind whipped past him, chilling him right to the bone. He wondered how any of the skaters could bear the cold. Jack tugged his hat further to cover his ears then crossed his arms over his chest in an attempt to generate some warmth.

A woman sat next to him, her cheeks tinged red from the cold. She smiled at Jack and offered the bottle of vodka that she'd been sipping from.

He shook his head. "No, thanks," he said in Russian.

"It'll warm you up." She inched closer. "I can guarantee it's just what you're looking for."

He studied her for a moment, then accepted the bottle. "Thanks."

"We have a mutual friend," she said as Jack took a sip. "She apologizes she can't come herself."

Jack handed the bottle back to her. "Who are you?"

"You can call me Galina." Her smile widened. "I'll take you where you need to go."

"That wasn't the arrangement."

"I don't have the information you want. I can only take you to someone who does." She stood and held out her hand. "It's no loss to her if you don't want to know."

Jack stood and followed Galina along the path to where a car was parked. She opened the door and gestured for him to get in, then slid in after him. There was a man sitting on the other side of Jack, and he became even more uneasy about the situation.

"Where are we going?" he asked.

Galina smiled at him, pulled a gun from her coat pocket, and fired.