The Project 04 - Black Harvest

is what I will do to Rokovsky."
    He hit the wall again and turned toward her. For a moment she was afraid. If he hit her like that it would kill her.
    "What did you say to her?"
    Bedisa smiled.
    "I told her I knew that her husband likes men more than women. I wondered what would happen if Rokovsky found out about it. I was very polite. She turned several shades of color, mostly white. I don't think she will be saying these things about you again."
    Zviad laughed. "Is it true? About her husband?"
    "Yes. I'd heard rumors but I wasn't sure. The way she reacted tells me it's true."
    "Good, Bedisa. I own this man now. I will use him."
    "There is still the talk, Zviad. Others are wondering. You must move quickly to avenge Bagrat. What will you do?"
    Zviad admired himself in a full length mirror.
    "I think I will go to Bulgaria. I will make an example of this man. And his woman. An example that will be remembered. Then Rokovsky will understand who he offends. No one will speak of honor then."
    Bedisa nodded. It was just what she wanted to hear.

CHAPTER TWENTY-THREE

    It was mid-morning the next day. Selena pulled up Bankya on her computer.
    "Bankya is an exclusive suburb of Sofia. Lots of ruins, artifacts, mostly pottery and bronze. It has a hotel, hot springs, the old presidential palace. A big tourist draw because of the springs. It's a famous spa and resort. And it has a museum."
    "Probably a lot of domes, too," said Ronnie.
    Nick had been cleaning his .45. He reassembled it, put it back in the holster and stood. He had a headache.
    "Let's get out there and get this over with."
    They went down to the lobby, exited the hotel and got in the Peugeot. Arkady Korov watched them leave. He got in his rental and pulled out a safe distance behind. Just another battered gray Renault, one of many. They'd never see him. He followed them out of town. Signs pointed the way to Bankya.
    Why Bankya, Arkady wondered. Maybe they were going for the waters.
    Earlier he'd spoken with Alexei Ivanovich.
    "Gelashvili believes the Americans killed his brother. He's gone after them. He should have arrived in Sofia by now. Sooner or later he will be where they are. Your primary mission is his elimination. The Americans may accomplish that for you."
    "Understood."
    "Arkady. In this instance, the Americans are a means to an end. Observe them and learn what you can. Do not see them as your enemy."
    Korov had said nothing. Orders were orders.

CHAPTER TWENTY-FOUR

    Sofia and Mount Vitosha were prominent in the view from the outskirts of Bankya as they drove in. The found the only museum.
    "Maybe they'll have a dinosaur." Ronnie sounded hopeful.
    There were no dinosaurs. In the museum they learned that the temple of Demeter was buried under a church outside the town. They left the museum and stood in the sunshine.
    "What now?"
    "Lunch, Ronnie. Then we'll check out the church."
    They found a cafe. A dozen tables were set behind a low wooden fence and gate. Trees branched overhead. It was a pleasant spot.
    "It's nice out." Selena took a deep breath of fresh spring air. "We can sit outside."
    They ordered a spicy beef stew, bread and coffee. A large salad of tomatoes, cucumbers, onions, roasted peppers and an unfamiliar cheese. The food was good.
    Korov watched them from a bench under a tree. His car was parked nearby. He held a local paper in front of him and pretended to read. He wore workman's clothes and a cloth cap. From time to time the Americans scanned the area. Their eyes lingered on him for a moment and passed on. Arkady knew it was automatic. They hadn't made him. The woman seemed absorbed in her food.
    Then he saw one of Gelashvili's men. He was talking on his cell phone.
    Five minutes later two cars drove by. Zviad Gelashvili was in the second one. The man with the phone got into the first car. Korov counted five men plus Gelashvili. In the cafe, the Americans had finished their meal. They stood up to leave. They got in their car and drove off. Gelashvili and his men followed.
    Korov stood and folded his paper. The others were still in sight. He got in the car, started it up and pulled out after them.
    What was the American expression?
    Showtime.

CHAPTER TWENTY-FIVE

    The Church of St. George was some distance outside of town, on a side road off the main highway. It was made of whitewashed stone and shaped like a cross. Wooden scaffolding rose along one side, a pile of debris littered beneath it. The church had a high arched entryway and a