Black Widow. Cliff Ryder

Hirschvogel vented so colorfully, obviously given some courage about being held captive for nearly an hour but not killed outright, Jake casually reached out and backhanded him in the face. The blow silenced Hirschvogel immediately.

      “That’s not how you talk to a lady,” Jake stated affably.

      Shocked, Hirschvogel glared at Jake. “If I ever meet you again, you’re a dead man.”

      Jake smiled and spoke softly. “Just one more reason to heave you over the balcony before I leave. I didn’t much care for you before you decided to make this personal. But promising to be a threat in the future?” He shook his head.

      Visibly afraid, perhaps remembering that Jake had killed three of his bodyguards without breaking a sweat, Hirschvogel looked to Kate for support.

      “Tell me about the weapons in Istanbul,” Kate said.

      Hirschvogel licked his lips nervously. Blood trickled from the corner of his mouth. “I know nothing.”

      “If you don’t know anything about them,” Kate said conversationally, “you’re not worth anything to me.”

      “Balcony’s looking better and better all the time,” Jake said.

      “What do you want to know?” Hirschvogel asked.

      “I know you regularly supply Hasan with drugs that he sells to Mustafa in Istanbul,” Kate said. Her primary objective had been to shut down the supply route and break the bank of the terrorists Hirschvogel supplied. The man held a position as a mover and shaker in the black market with drugs and weapons. “Normally you sell drugs to Hasan, which he transports to Istanbul and sells again.”

      “Yes,” Hirschvogel admitted. “You realize that you can’t try me here in the United States for that? I’ve committed no crime here.”

      “I’m sure that’s not true,” Kate told him. In fact, she knew it wasn’t true. Hirschvogel sold merchandise everywhere there was a market.

      “Are you with the government?” Hirschvogel asked.

      Jake slapped him again.

      Hirschvogel cursed, but tears of pain coursed down his cheeks.

      “Where did you get the weapons?” Kate asked.

      “American military shipments in Turkey,” Hirschvogel said. “A recent resupply. I arranged for it to go missing.”

      “Not without help.”

      Hirschvogel shrugged. “I have some contacts within the army’s civilian support agencies. I knew when the shipment would arrive by truck. I had a team take the weapons.”

      Kate hadn’t heard anything about that, but no one liked admitting he’d been made a fool of. The United States military had their own investigative bodies. She made a mental note to go through channels and contact the army’s criminal-investigative division regarding the stolen shipment.

      “Why did you sell them to Hasan?” she asked.

      “I’d heard Mustafa was looking for weapons. Particularly American weapons.”

      “Why?”

      Hirschvogel glanced at Jake and flinched as he answered. “I don’t know.”

      Jake didn’t move.

      “He believes you,” Kate said. “So do I. But I’m going to need to know who your contacts were in the military.”

      Hirschvogel scowled. The side of his face still glowed red from the slaps. “Those contacts have proven very expensive.”

      “And profitable,” Kate said.

      “Perhaps we could negotiate.”

      “All right.” Kate folded her arms. “Give me the names of the men who helped you arrange the theft, and I won’t let my friend throw you over the balcony.”

      Defeated, Hirschvogel gave her the names.

      When he was finished, Kate nodded at Jake.

      He took a spray from his pocket and squirted it into Hirschvogel’s face. The German tried not to breathe, obviously afraid of being poisoned, but the spray worked on mere contact, as well. He fought the effects of the drug, then his head slumped forward.

      “Personally I think it would be better if I dropped him over the balcony,” Jake said. “Guy like this, he’s gonna be a problem somewhere down the line.”

      “No,” Kate said. “We’ll let him run and keep a leash on him. Taking out Hasan and Mustafa will help shut down his organization, but there’s still a lot of information we can discover.”

      She looked around the apartment to make sure they hadn’t left anything behind. Both of them were too professional for that. But always checking was part of being professional.

      “Indigo, are we clear?” Kate asked.

      “Affirmative. We show you clear.”

      Kate left the apartment and headed for the elevator.

      “What’s being done with the young woman driving the truck?” Jake asked.

      “For the moment,” Kate said, “we’re going to let her run.”

      “One of Red Team’s snipers could take her out. Even on the fly. Don’t have to kill her.”

      “She’s MI-6. We have to check and see if they’ve got a play in place.”

      “I’m thinking grabbing everybody at the buy would have been a good strategy,” Jake said.

      “That’s where I would have done it,” Kate agreed.

      “MI-6 doesn’t always get it right,” Jake commented.

      “Nobody does. That’s why they have us.”

      Jake chuckled. “They have us when they want to take the gloves off and throw the rulebook out the window.”

      Kate smiled.

      “So what if everything’s snafued in Istanbul?” Jake asked.

      “We improvise.”

      9

      Istanbul

      Desperate, Ajza ran through her options. If she drove the truck where Mustafa wanted it, she’d know where it was for a while, but she didn’t doubt that the weapons would be quickly moved. Or she could depend on her support team suddenly materializing and getting her out of the current situation. But it didn’t seem like that was about to happen.

      She was sweltering in the growing heat of the day and had to work hard to keep the truck headed straight. The steering had a lot of play, which necessitated constant attention.

      She didn’t like the possibility of parking the weapons somewhere and losing them. The question of who was going to be using them and for what purpose never left her mind. Over the past few years she’d seen firsthand the kind of carnage left by al-Qaeda and other terrorists.

      “I could have driven the truck,” Fikret complained from the passenger side.

      Ajza looked around and got her bearings. She was only a few blocks from the harbor. A desperate plan formed in her mind.

      “All I needed was another chance,” Fikret went on. He glared at Ajza. “There’s nothing you can do that I can’t.”

      Traffic came to a halt. Ajza studied the cross street ahead. It was one of the major ones. She was certain the harbor area was nearly a straight shot down it. At least, as straight a shot as the streets of the old city allowed.

      “You should not have volunteered,” Fikret said. “You only did so to make me look bad.”

      Ajza couldn’t be quiet any longer. “If you could