36

Savannah had used the hacker’s email to send a message to Sergei Viktorov.

I’ll offer myself in exchange for Buffy’s release. Choose the time and place. Bring Buffy. I will surrender when I see her. Savannah Rice, she’d written. After discussing with John and several others at Scanguards that Viktorov would wonder whether the police and her private investigator were on his tail, she’d added a postscript. Did you really think I wouldn’t figure out that you used a second-rate hacker to get access to my daughter’s photos? Unfortunately, he was too stupid to figure out how to find you. I wish you’d worked with somebody smarter. I guess you won.

The message was meant to reassure Viktorov that Savannah had no idea who he really was and how to find him. It had its desired effect. Within two hours, Viktorov replied. He’d specified a meeting place and threatened that he would kill Buffy if he so much as got a whiff of Savannah’s private investigator or the police, or if she was even a minute late. The little time he allowed for Savannah to get to the meeting place ensured that Scanguards had no time to prepare a counter-offensive.

The exchange was on.

“Do everything he says,” John instructed her now, his hands framing her face, his voice soft. “Trust me. You might not see me, you might not hear me, but I will be there. Wherever you go, I’ll be close-by. Don’t look for me. Don’t try to communicate with me. I don’t want him to become suspicious.”

Savannah nodded. “I trust you.”

John pressed a kiss to her lips, then leaned his forehead to hers. “This ends tonight. I promise you. Now go.”

He released her, and she turned on her heel and left Scanguards’ headquarters through the front door. She shivered, both from fear and the cool night air, but she didn’t look back. John had kept all his promises until now, and she knew he would keep this one too.

At a brisk pace, she walked several blocks, then turned west on 18th Street and continued walking as fast as she could. She checked her watch to make sure she would make it and increased her speed. Her heart beat faster, not just because of the increased cardio activity, but also because she was afraid. Afraid that something would go wrong, afraid that Viktorov wouldn’t be bringing Buffy and was leading her into a trap. But she had to accept that risk.

At Guerrero Street, a major thoroughfare, the pedestrian light turned red just as she reached the intersection. She looked at her wristwatch again, then at the traffic. It was coming up on midnight, and the normally busy traffic in the area was easing up. Without waiting for the light to turn green, she dashed across the lanes. A car driving way too fast honked at her, but she continued running and reached the other side in time. She didn’t break her stride and continued running to the end of the next block. Across the other side of Dolores Street, she saw the popular park that stretched up the hill. The pedestrian light to cross to the park was green, and she hurried along, racing alongside the park until she reached the next corner: Church Street. This was the spot Viktorov had chosen for the exchange.

She stopped at the corner, her chest heaving, her heart pounding. Her eyes darted around the area. A homeless man hung around the entrance of an apartment building on the opposite side of the street, and two youngsters were smoking and drinking nearby. From farther up on Church Street, she heard a streetcar approaching.

She glanced around the parked cars, but they all appeared empty. Nobody’s engine was running. Where the hell was Viktorov? Was he playing with her?

A ringing cell phone startled her. She whirled around, trying to see who had approached her without her noticing. There was nobody. Yet the ringing continued. Looking left and right, she saw nobody. The same ringtone continued. She zeroed in on it. It seemed to be coming from a trashcan. Carefully, she approached and saw a faint light. There, in the area above the trash receptacle that was reserved for recycling, lay a cell phone. She reached for it and pressed the accept button.

“About time, Savannah,” a male voice said.

She recognized it immediately: Viktor Stricklund, the man who’d had the audacity to come to her office and offer his help. But she couldn’t give away that she knew who he was. “Yes?” she said instead, allowing her fear to color her voice.

There was a movement next to her, and from the corner of her eye she saw the streetcar slowing for its stop. Two people got off, one was a man in a business suit, a scarf around his neck and a hat pulled deep into his face.

“I’m glad we’re finally connecting,” Viktorov said on the phone.

She stared at the man who was now coming toward her, but he wasn’t holding a phone in his hand.

“But before we can meet in person,” Viktorov continued, “I need to make sure you’re alone.”

“I’m alone,” she insisted.

“Whatever you say. See the MUNI train? Get on it. Now.”

The stranger walked past her without stopping. There was a beeping sound, indicating that the doors of the train were about to close. Savannah ran to the nearest door and jumped onto the steps. Seconds later, the doors closed and the train was in motion.

“Hello?” she said into the phone, but Viktorov had disconnected the call.

She dropped onto the nearest seat and glanced around without trying to be too obvious. Maybe a dozen people were in this carriage, and though she couldn’t see everybody’s face, nobody looked like Viktorov in terms of size and stature.

For several minutes, the train continued on its route, stopping once and letting off passengers. Nobody got on the train. What was Viktorov trying to do? Where the hell was he?

The cell phone in her hand rang again. She picked it up immediately. “Yes?”

“At the next stop get off the train. Then walk one block to Duboce Avenue and get onto the N-Judah train heading outbound.”

Before she could say anything, he’d disconnected the call. Savannah jumped up from her seat and walked to the door. Moments later the train stopped and she touched the handlebar to open the door. On the sidewalk she turned left and hurried to the next intersection. The N-train was already coming out of the tunnel, and she had to run to get to the stop on the other side of the street to catch it.

Breathing heavily, Savannah reached the last door of the train and got on. She let herself fall into the nearest seat and looked around. There were more people on this train than the previous one, but she knew that was normal. The N-train was always busy.

Clutching the cell phone with both hands, she stared down at it, willing it to ring. It didn’t. After another stop, the train entered a tunnel, and for the minute and a half that it made its way through it, the cell phone lost the signal. When the train finally emerged on the other side, and stopped right after the tunnel, the signal finally came back. She kept staring at the display, wondering if she’d missed a call, but nothing happened. The train continued on its route, another stop, and more people got off, then another one. And still no word from Viktorov.

Cold sweat was now running down Savannah’s back. If Viktorov was doing this to make her even more nervous than she already was, it was working.

The ringing of the cell phone in her hand nearly stopped her heart.

“Yes?”

“Get off at the next stop. Walk up Hillway Avenue. On Parnassus, turn left, then take Medical Center Way.”

Again, he disconnected the call immediately after his short instructions.

She did as he said, and alighted at the next stop. She crossed the street and looked up. Hillway Avenue was one of the steepest streets in San Francisco. Already exhausted, she started climbing it. By the time she reached the top, she needed to take a deep breath of air and a few seconds to calm her thundering heart. This was Parnassus, the location of the UCSF Medical Center. She’d been here many times with Buffy. She’d given birth to her here.

It was foggy and windy up here, and she shivered. There was little traffic now. Savannah crossed the street and headed for Medical Center Way, a dimly lit winding way that led behind the hospital and its research facilities up on the hill. A deep forest of Eucalyptus trees and other trees and shrubs provided a greenspace next to the concrete buildings.

She hurried along the narrow, deserted street, and the cell phone rang again. She pressed the button to answer it, but didn’t even get a chance to reply.

“Take the stairs on the left. All the way up.”

She stopped and looked up to her left. There, in the dark, was indeed a set of stairs, leading up the steep hill. She could have easily missed them. Breathing hard, she set her foot on the first step. She heard a sound behind her and spun around. But there was nothing. Only darkness.

Her nerves were frayed, she knew it. And her body was exhausted. It was what Viktorov intended. He wanted to make sure that she wouldn’t have any energy left to fight. And she had no choice but to comply.

It took several minutes for her to make it up to the top. When she set her foot on the pavement of the parking lot she’d reached, she looked down at the display of the cell phone. Where would he send her next?

“Welcome!”

Savannah snapped her head up and stared at the middle of the parking lot. Every drop of blood in her body froze in her veins.

“Oh, no! Oh God no!” she cried out.