And so, despite every rational circuit in his brain telling him not to, he gave in to the saboteur and allowed his lids to close.
CHAPTER 43
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* * *
NIVSKY
MURMANSK OBLAST
Christina made a big deal about the back door to her clinic having been kicked in, letting loose with several choice words not necessarily befitting a doctor.
Teplov, who had been on her bumper the entire way from her house, had followed her inside. He watched her, closely, to see what she did.
After bitching about the damage in back, she went straight to the room with the cabinet where the drugs were stored.
It was obvious it had been broken into. Inventorying the contents, she appeared relieved.
“What is it?” Teplov asked. “What do you see?”
“I see my narcotics. Fortunately, none of them were taken.”
“Anything else?”
“As you mentioned, a vial of antibiotics is missing, along with the first two doses of a typical rabies vaccine, plus the follow-ons.”
“The follow-ons?”
“Yes, the doses that would be need to be given on the third, seventh, and fourteenth days from exposure.”
“Interesting,” mumbled Teplov, lost in thought.
“Why? Because your American understands what a course of rabies vaccination entails?”
“No,” said the mercenary, coming back around. “What’s interesting is that he stole the entire course. Either he’s planning on hanging around for the next two weeks, or he’s concerned with how soon he might be rescued.”
Christina was nonplussed. “That’s your problem. I want to know who’s paying for the damage to my back door and the stolen medicines.”
“I hope you have insurance.”
“Exactly what Wagner told me when my husband was killed.”
Without waiting for the man to respond, she left the room and went to check the rest of the clinic.
“Doctor Volkova,” he called out after her. “Doctor Volkova.”
She turned and faced him in the hallway. “If you cooperate with us, the Kremlin has a ‘Heroes’ fund,” he said. “Perhaps we can get your husband recognized as a hero of the Russian Federation. It comes with a modest stipend.”
“Fuck you,” she replied.
“Excuse me?”
“You heard me. Fuck you. I am here. I am cooperating. And regardless of what Wagner or the Kremlin says, my husband is a hero.”
Teplov was taken aback. “I didn’t mean to suggest that he—”
“I don’t want to talk about it anymore. Do you understand me?”
The mercenary nodded and Christina continued her search.
In one of the examination rooms, she pointed out the bloody gauze pads. Then, in the office up front, she drew Teplov’s attention to the fact that the computer had been left on. Something, she explained, that clinic staff never did.
Looking through the break room, she noted that there were several small food items missing. The more honest she was, the quicker she believed Teplov would lose interest in her.
It was trending in that direction when one of his men entered the clinic through the back and asked to speak with his boss in private.
When they were done, Teplov rejoined her.
“I wonder if you could come outside with me for a moment,” he said.
“What for?”
“It won’t take long. There’s something I need you to identify, please.”
It didn’t sound like she had a choice. So, as the man stood back to let her pass, she zipped up her parka and walked toward the back door.
Outside, a couple of the Wagner men had opened the shed and discovered the snowmobile.
“Do you recognize this?” Teplov asked.
Ever since she’d had Harvath put the machine in the shed, she had expected the question. “I do,” she replied. “That’s my uncle’s snowmobile. But what’s it doing here?”
“Doctor Volkova, when was the last time you saw your uncle?”
She took a moment as she tried to remember. “It has been at least three weeks.”
“And how was his health?”
“Why do you ask?”
“Just answer the question, please,” the man commanded.
“He had emphysema and an irregular heartbeat. What is his snowmobile doing in my shed? If you know something, tell me. Where is my uncle?”
Teplov was a soldier, not a clergyman or a counselor. His bedside manner was sorely underdeveloped. “Doctor Volkova, I’m sorry to have to tell you this, but your uncle is dead.”
“Dead? How?”
“We don’t know.”
“What does this have to do with my clinic being broken into? Is the American you’re looking for connected to this? Did he murder my uncle?”
He held up his hand. “We don’t know.”
“Well, what the hell do you know?”
Teplov tried to calm her down. “Your uncle was a fur trapper and had a cabin, correct?”
She nodded.
“We think the American, Harvath, found your uncle’s cabin