Day of Wrath

Helen, who’d seen worse sights in her tour with the FBI’s Hostage Rescue Team, stopped pacing and shrugged. “All of which proves nothing.” She leaned over the diplomat’s desk.

“Except that whoever arranged that ambush was willing to go to extraordinary lengths to put an end to our investigation before we got any closer to the truth. And now you and the MVD are giving the bad guys what they want on a silver platter!”

Clifford turned red with anger. “Listen, Miss Gray, your investigation has done more to strain U.S.-Russian relations than you can possibly imagine.” He scowled, speaking plainly and candidly for a change.

“Somebody in the Pechenga militia already blabbed to the Moscow press corps. And only Undersecretary Carleton’s murder yesterday has kept this off the front pages in the States. But the local boys are running wild, and they’re embarrassing the hell out of the Kremlin. The press is playing every angle it can dream up — Russian organized crime, lousy Russian aircraft safety, Russian drug smuggling, corruption in the Russian military …”

“I don’t give a damn about the press, Mr.. Clifford or the Kremlin,” Helen said forcefully. “My job is finding out the truth about what happened in Kandalaksha and why my partner was killed.”

Clifford shook his head just as firmly. “That’s where you’re wrong, Miss Gray.” He included Thorn in his baleful gaze. “As it stands, you two have managed to anger almost every faction in the Russian government. Most of them were never very happy with the idea of Americans investigating crimes on Russian soil.

Now they’re furious!

“Your original charter covered the O.S.I.A plane crash only,” the diplomat continued. “But once you started poking around into Mafiya drug cartels and their ties to the Russian Air Force, the MVD claims you crossed the line into ‘impermissible interference.

’” That was too much for Thorn. “That’s bullshit,” he growled.

“Alexei Koniev had permission from his higher-ups every step of the way.”

“And Major Koniev is dead,” Clifford reminded him brutally.

“Which brings me to another problem. The MVD is having trouble believing that one of their best men was killed in that ambush while you two walked away without a scratch — even if the major did die a hero.” He shrugged. “Not everyone believes your story about what happened aboard the Star of the White Sea.”

Helen glared and Peter opened his mouth to protest, but the diplomat held up a conciliatory hand. “Don’t worry. I believe you. At least I think I do. I’ve read both your personnel files.”

Clifford sighed and turned to face Thorn directly. “But your Special Forces background makes you very hot, diplomatically, Colonel.” He gestured vaguely toward the window. “There are a lot of people here in Moscow who don’t see you as a simple soldier, Colonel. To the Russians, the closest thing to Delta Force is the old Soviet Spetsnaz.

And that means you’re a trained assassin in their eyes — a paid U.S. government killer. So your presence here makes them nervous. They were willing to let it lie as long as things stayed relatively quiet, but you’re in the spotlight now.”

Thorn tensed. He knew that what Clifford said was true. Officially, he’d been on very thin ice from the beginning, and now the ice had cracked. He looked over at Helen, hoping she was on firmer ground.

As if on cue she sat down in the chair next to him and crossed her arms. “Colonel Thorn’s background has proved an extremely valuable asset during this investigation,” she said steadily.

Clifford snorted. “That depends on your perspective, I suppose.

Others might reasonably argue your whole effort has been an unmitigated disaster from beginning to end. This Pechenga fiasco is simply the last straw.”

Jesus. Thorn shook his head, trying desperately to think of a way out of the bureaucratic box he saw being built around them.

“I don’t accept that, Mr. Clifford. As far as I can see, we’ve made substantial progress. We’ve established beyond a shadow of a doubt that the O.S.I.A transport plane was sabotaged. And we know that this Captain Grushtin carried out the sabotage — though we don’t know yet why, or on whose orders.”

“That’s no longer any of your concern,” Clifford said bluntly.

“What?” Helen exploded.

The diplomat drew a deep breath, then stood up and walked around his desk to face them. “All right, I’ll spell it out for you.

Your role in this investigation is over. This is now solely a Russian matter, involving Russian nationals on sovereign Russian territory. As a result, any further inquiries will be handled by the Russian government and only by the Russian government. Is that understood?”

Helen’s eyes blazed. “No, it is not understood, sir,” she ground out through gritted teeth. “As an FBI legal attache, this case still comes under my jurisdiction. Or have you forgotten the Americans who also died when that plane went down?”?

Clifford rounded on her, his patience evidently at an end.