Death Echo

“Maybe.”
    â€œIt’s been a long time since I’ve read more than memos. It’s coming back, but slowly. Apparently Lane didn’t think to translate it.”
    â€œSo he’s a Russian agent?” Mac asked.
    â€œLane?”
    Mac have her a look. “Demidov.”
    â€œHe was a Russian agent. Supposed to be freelance now, though he still has active Russian Federation diplomatic credentials.”
    Mac made a sound that said he was listening.
    â€œHe’s most often known to the English-speaking world as Taras Demidov,” she said, “though he has several other aliases. I have to assume he has all the necessary documentation to back up those identities,” she added. “He’s certainly in a position to get whatever papers he needs.”
    â€œWelcome to the post-Wall world, where no one works for the name signing his paycheck.”
    â€œAnd no one has the same name as the dude cashing it.” She laughed curtly. “I don’t like that world. For all the good it does me.”
    â€œNow you know why ostriches prefer sand. Much more comfortable.”
    â€œUntil somebody kicks your feathered butt.”
    â€œYeah,” he said, “that’s the downside.”
    Emma looked up from the computer. “The water is a lot calmer.”
    â€œWe’re in the lee of a small island. Soon it will be quiet enough to safely take a passenger aboard, which I’m not wanting to do, even if we lock down our cell phones and computers. I’m hoping he’ll settle for shouting across the water.”
    She skimmed content faster, deciding nuances could wait until there was more time. “Demidov is a shooter.”
    â€œSniper?” Mac asked.
    â€œIs that professional interest I hear in your voice?”
    â€œI used to keep track of the ones that got away. Otherwise they had a nasty habit of turning up in my rearview mirror.”
    â€œSorry I asked,” she said. “And no, Demidov is an executioner, not a sniper. Close work. Really close. He has nine confirmed kills and three times that many suspected.”
    â€œNice dude.”
    â€œYeah,” she said absently. “Just what every mother dreams of for her little girl.”
    â€œIn a lot of places in the world, you’d be exactly right. Having the protection of a mafiya type beats starvation or selling your daughter into the skin trade.”
    Emma let out a long breath. There were aspects of the modern world she really despised.
    Not that things had been much different a thousand years ago.
    At least most places have laws against slavery now, she told herself tiredly. That’s something.
    â€œAnything about the female, or is she a local hire?” Mac asked.
    â€œThe woman aboard Redhead II is Lina Fredric, born Galina Federova. She’s the registered owner of the boat.”
    â€œSleeper?”
    Emma frowned and skimmed as quickly as she could. “If she’s a sleeper for Russia, she’s been in place so long she’s put roots down and grown moss. No dings on her record. Naturalized Canadian citizen, pays all taxes on time, doesn’t speed, doesn’t get in bar fights, ekes out a good-enough living taking fishermen after salmon. Once rumored to hang with drug runners, but never caught with so much as a whiff of anything contraband.”
    Mac thought of the time when he’d driven a fast boat flat-out in the dark, sure that he’d live forever.
    â€œA young man’s game,” he said. “Fool’s game.”
    â€œI’ll take your word for it.” She scanned quickly. “If the birth date is correct, Lina aka Galina just turned fifty.”
    â€œDemidov?”
    â€œHe’s fifty-seven, if we can trust the stats. And the chances of him just choosing Lina Fredric from one of the what-to-do tourist pamphlets on a Canadian ferry are zero and negative.”
    â€œSo…a sleeper rather than a shooter?” Mac asked.
    â€œUntil we have a reason to think otherwise, yes.”
    â€œAnything else we should know before Redhead II finds a quiet place to chat?”
    â€œI’m looking.”
    Mac bit back an urge to tell her to look faster.
    â€œDemidov often works for a mafiya head turned philanthropist. At least, that’s what some sources say. Others say he’s a kingmaker rather than a rainmaker.”
    â€œDemidov?”
    â€œHis boss,” Emma said. “Name of Sidorov,