Last Chance to Die by Noah Boyd (large screen ebook reader .txt) 📗

who also worked for the FBI and was apparently looking into our club’s activities.” There was no reaction from any of the four men, none of them even looking up. Vail glanced at Kate to confirm the oddity of their lack of response.

Vail went over to the first table and showed the photograph. “Her name is Sundra Boston. Have you ever seen or heard of her?” Both men shook their heads in silence.

At the second table, Vail showed the photograph again, and after the two men glanced at it, he continued to study their faces. They both appeared to have dark circles around their eyes and mouths. “I’m sorry, you seem familiar,” Vail said to the one who hardly looked at the photo. “Have we met before?”

Slowly the man raised his eyes to Vail. In a controlled tone, he answered, “No.” Even though a single syllable, Vail could hear its heavy accent.

“I’m sorry, what is your name?”

The man glanced at Zogas, who gave an almost undetectable nod. “Algis Barkus.”

Vail smiled. “No, I guess not. I would have remembered that name. Everyone, thank you for your time.”

Zogas walked them to the front door. “If there is anything else we can do for you, please do not hesitate to ask.”

“There is one thing that would help put this to rest. Do you think we could get a list of your membership?”

For the first time since their entering the club, Zogas appeared to be caught flat-footed. “That might be a problem.”

“Why?” Vail asked, almost before Zogas finished.

“We have worked extremely hard since coming to this country and taking citizenship. We enjoy having this sanctuary and, in relative anonymity, being allowed to socialize with men of similar interests. This is a small but, we feel, elite group. I doubt that the membership would approve of the U.S. government knowing exactly who we are. We fear that it wouldn’t be long before someone from some governmental agency would be demanding we admit two Hispanics, four females, and someone in a wheelchair.”

“We’re only looking for a quick way to cross you off our list of people who might know something about one of our employees disappearing. We’re not going to turn your membership roster over to Health and Human Services.”

“I’ll tell you what, Agent Vail. I will present your argument to the members, and they’ll put it to a vote.”

“How long will that take?”

“A day, two at the most.”

“I’ll call you. Is there a number here?”

Zogas took out a business card and wrote it on the back. “Give me two days. By then I should have a definitive answer.”

For the first time since entering the club, Vail heard the men in the back speak. He listened for a moment and then asked, “Is that Lithuanian?”

“Yes, it is.”

“Interesting. People, probably myself included, have a tendency to lump all the Eastern European languages together. But it is definitely different from, say, Russian.” Vail watched him closely to see if “Russian” hit any nerves.

“You have a good ear. They are definitely different languages.”

Once they were outside, Kate said, “I guess we’ve solved one mystery today. Now we know the whereabouts of Himmler’s, Goebbels’s and Göring’s sons.” When Vail didn’t laugh, she thought that his mind had once again raced ahead, trying to find the next turn. She glanced at him and saw something in his face she’d never seen before. He actually looked shaken. “Steve, what is it?”

He turned and searched her face as if he didn’t know who she was. Then he said, “I know who framed you.”

31

“What!”

When Vail didn’t answer, Kate asked again. “What did you say?”

“Not here.” He grabbed her by the arm and glanced back at the club, pushing her toward their car.

He started the engine, and she asked again. “What is it?”

Still he wouldn’t answer but pulled away from the curb and drove off, once more checking to see if anyone from the club was watching. When he got a block away and was certain that none of the Lithuanians could see them, he pulled over. “That night you and I broke into the Russian safe house in Denton, remember?”

“Guys in ski masks, large handguns, you setting off explosives, fire—something about it rings a bell.”

“Did you notice anything funny about that guy Barkus or the other one playing chess with him?”

“Other than their warmth toward FBI agents, especially the female subspecies, not really,” she said. “Oh, Barkus had dark circles under his eyes. Probably something to do with his not getting back to the coffin until after sunrise.”

“You weren’t as close to him as I was. Or the other one. They both had them, dark circles all the way around their eyes—and around their mouths, too.”

“What were they?”

“Dozens of tiny cuts scabbed over.”

“The areas left exposed by ski masks. From the shattered lightbulbs,” Kate said.

“And that night they were speaking in some foreign language that wasn’t Russian. It sounded Eastern European. It could have been Lithuanian. It all makes sense now. That guy in the tunnel in Chicago, Jonas Sakis, he made a reference to game theory and zero-sum games. And when I said something about him being Russian, he gave me this strange smirk. It was because he was Lithuanian.”

“That means—oh, my God!” Kate said. “That means these guys are tied directly to the Russians. They’re working with them, and they have ears and eyes in the NSA, the CIA, the Pentagon, the State Department, and who knows where else.”

“That’s why we’ve got to be very careful. You, me, and Luke, no one else.”

“No one else? The three of us against all of them?”

Vail ignored Kate’s plea. “The real question is, what’s the connection between the Lithuanians and Sundra—and you?”

She shook her head in disbelief at his self-control, gaining her own calm from it. “Connected how?” she asked.

“I don’t know, but I got the feeling that the Lithuanian Chess Society is going to vote nay to our getting a membership list. So let’s drive around here while you write down as many