Hail Warning

Snake Island, Nigeria

During the flight from Egypt to Snake Island, Kara hadn’t felt the need to keep a weapon trained on Kornev. He was either all in or all out. She would know, in short order, the decision he had chosen. After all, Kornev was now an actor in a very complicated play with lots of moving parts. Upon their arrival at Afua Diambu’s residence, they would have to pretend they were dating, and if it weren’t a convincing act, there was a very real chance they both might experience death at the hands of an extremely paranoid jihadi, Afua Diambu.

During the remaining hours of their flight, Kornev hadn’t spoken to her. He opted to sit in his chair, flipping through a book. It was quite apparent to Kara he was not really reading since he was holding the book upside down, a detail he had overlooked. If it weren’t for the brevity of their upcoming assignment, and her despising the man, she would have laughed aloud.

Kara was happy with the aphasiac flight. She had nothing to discuss with the Russian. They were both brilliant actors and persons in distress. Kornev was now forced to adopt a completely different career. As opposed to an arms dealer, he would be a spy for the United States’ spooks. Kara was actively seeking justice for her deceased parents, and her world was much different than the one she had lived as a college student. One day she had been a college student. The next day, she was a student of horror. In her job with the CIA she interacted with people who did horrific things in the name of money, power or religion. The hardest for her to wrap her mind around was those who enjoyed inflicting pain upon others. Kara had been given two years to change gears. However, Kornev was expected to transition his thinking and acting within a period of days. He was now a former arms dealer and forced to play ball with those he had strove his entire life to avoid. Yet at the same time, he had to act like an arms dealer and actively betray his former clients.

Kara was certain Kornev was going through all the same emotional turmoil she had experienced during her changing of suits. She assumed Kornev was accustomed to quickly adapting and changing teams for the dictator or terrorists that were willing to pay him the most amount of money for weapons. Part of the arms dealer job was assessing risk versus reward. And, based on those calculations, Kornev would be prepared to put on any uniform necessary to keep the money flowing. Thus, the United States recruiting Kornev should not be an earth-shattering experience for the Russian. But this was a little different. Kornev had

been forced to change teams, but games as well, and that nuance was the only issue that gave Kara pause.

In this new game, all the rules were different. Now, Kornev had a boss, and for someone as solitary as Kornev, that new role could take a toll on him. If this new change in management knocked him off his game, the operation could go south quickly. The penalties for losing this mission — this game — was death. This was a huge transformation for a man as arrogant as Kornev. Kara hoped that he would play by the rules so Marshall Hail didn’t have an excuse to kill him. It was no secret Hail wanted the Russian dead, and Kara realized it wouldn’t take much to push Hail over the edge. This was the main reason Kara had decided to go to Snake Island. She wanted to accompany Kornev to make sure that he didn’t stray from the game plan or alert Diambu that the CIA had modified the missiles. If Kara was by Kornev’s side, she was certain that Hail would not kill him. He would not take a shot if she might get caught in the crossfire. Kara didn’t know how she was going to pull off her endgame, especially since Kornev now knew who she really was, and that she had betrayed his trust. Still, she was determined to get Kornev to divulge the name of the person responsible for her parents’ deaths, after which she would be happy to kill Kornev, without any hesitation.

The plane touched down at the airport on Snake Island with a bump and the screech of tires. Kara sat up straight in her seat and looked out the windows, trying to get a sense of the place. Looking around, she realized that the airport was nothing more than a flat piece of asphalt laid down in the middle of a thick jungle. Heavy vegetation sprung up on both sides of the runway. She could not see any buildings.

“Give me your phone,” Kornev told Kara.

“No,” Kara said bluntly.

“You don’t understand. I was told to leave all communication devices on the plane. Afua Diambu is a very paranoid person and for good reason.”

Kornev held out his hand and waited for Kara to give up her phone.

“I don’t like this,” Kara said, handing over her phone.

Kornev took her phone. He put it with his in a cubby next to his seat built into the fuselage of the plane.

The plane continued to taxi forward, eventually coming to a stop in front of a small cinderblock building. The small structure looked like a gas station to fuel airplanes. Kornev unbuckled his seat belt, got up from his seat, and ducking his head to avoid hitting it on the top of the fuselage, he walked toward the cargo hold. He depressed the button to drop the back ramp.

Kara unbuckled her seat belt and joined Kornev.

Kornev made no attempt to collect the black cases. Instead, he slowly walked down to the end of the plane’s ramp and out onto the airstrip. Kara followed. Parked next to the brick building was a new and expensive black SUV. Its windows were tinted so heavily they appeared to match the paint color of the vehicle.

A black man dressed in military fatigues climbed out of the driver’s seat and opened the passenger door. Kornev looked inside, smiled and said, “How are you, my friend?”

Inside the SUV, Afua Diambu looked sternly back at the Russian and responded, “I’m doing well. It is good to see you.”

Before Kornev was permitted entry into the vehicle, Diambu’s driver produced a metal detector wand.

“Please raise your hands and turn slowly,” the driver instructed Kornev politely.

Kornev complied, doing a full 360-degree turn while the driver ran the wand up and down his body. When nothing on Kornev set off the machine, the driver asked for Kara to repeat the security procedure. Kara did a prettier turn than Kornev.

Kornev climbed into the vehicle, and Kara appeared in the doorway behind him.

Victor motioned in Kara’s direction. He addressed Afua, “This is my special friend, Tonya Merkalov. I was hoping you wouldn’t mind that I had invited a friend to share your hospitality.”

Kara looked the jihadi in the eye and smiled pleasantly at him. She saw the look of distrust flash across his face — a normal reaction for someone in his situation. She imagined the questions buzzing around in his brain, threat assessment calculations, as well as raw suspicion of this new and unknown entity. But a few seconds later, Afua flashed her a fake smile, saying, “Of course, I don’t mind. I am glad you brought someone special to enjoy my wonderful home. I think you’ll both have a very nice time.” And, just like that, the man’s smile dissolved.

Afua looked uncomfortable. He asked, “Did you bring anything you need to take to the house?”

Kornev responded, “Everything we need my pilots will collect, and I’m sure your men can deal with it.”

“Yes, they can,” Afua agreed. “Let us go.”

Kara slid into the seat next to Kornev, and the SUV turned onto a dirt road, disappearing into the dense African jungle.