"Why?"

"It was possible you'd stumble across something you weren't meant to find. I had to be there."

"To save Conner and me?"

He didn't answer.

"You bastard. You and Bradworth were sitting there waiting for something to happen, waiting for them to come. Isn't that true?"

He was silent a moment. "Bradworth set up the job with the museum. He thought it was worth the risk to get a qualified expert down there to take the sub apart. He thought I was wrong about the sub being followed. He could have been right."

"Followed by whom?"

"Pavski." He sat down and sipped his coffee. "Very ugly, very criminal, and very desirous of finding that map scrawled on the bulkhead."

"Why?"

"It would lead him to a payload that would set him up in a kingly fashion for the rest of his life."

"Buried treasure?"

"In a manner of speaking."

"What kind of treasure?"

He shrugged. "Not the kind you found on the Titanic." He smiled. "By the way, I admired your work there. I understand that those tiny submersibles of yours were able to show us four times more of the interior bow section than any previous expedition. And I was fascinated by those digital 3-D virtual models that your data made possible. You're the best. That's why I recommended you to Bradworth."

"Damn you, I wish you'd been run over by a truck before you opened your mouth. Conner would still be alive."

His smile faded. "I can't deny it. If I'd let Bradworth bring in his naval engineers, they would have been dead instead of your brother. I never meant it to happen. I hoped it wouldn't."

"Hope?" She stared at him incredulously. "What good is hope? Why didn't you do something?"

"I warned Bradworth. I tried to make sure-" He shrugged. "But you're right. I'm guilty. Bradworth is guilty. Good intentions are never enough. You have a perfect right to detest us."

"You're damn right I do." She was shaking with rage. "Conner was a good man in the prime of his life. He deserved to live."

He nodded. "He seemed to be a fine man, and I could tell you were very close."

"By your spying on us."

"Yes." He turned away. "You're upset. I'll take you back to the dock and drop you off."

"The hell you will." Her hands clenched into fists. "I'm not going anywhere until you tell me how I can get my hands on this Pavski."

"I don't know."

"Dammit, you have to know something about him. You knew he was following the sub."

"I suspected it."

"Why?"

"One of his associates was seen in Helsinki."

"If you know where this associate is, then you can locate Pavski."

He shook his head.

"Why not?"

"Unfortunately, his associate is quite dead."

Frustration seethed through her. "Dammit. Dammit. Dammit."

"We'll talk more later. Here's my cell phone number." He scrawled the number on the back of a napkin and headed for the hatch. "I'll give Bradworth a chance to get the benefit of his share of the venom you're shooting at me. I'll call and tell him to meet you at the dock."

She crammed the napkin in her pocket. "I don't want to talk to Bradworth. Do you think I trust him either? He's told me nothing but lies since I met him."

"But you know he works for your government. Therefore, he's accountable."

"And you're not accountable?"

He didn't answer. "Come back and see me after you've talked to him and had time to absorb and adjust."

"To the little you've told me?"

"It's enough for now."

"The devil it is. It's nothing. And you won't even tell me your name."

"I'll tell you if it will make you feel better." He opened the door. "Dimitri Ivanov."

Ivanov.

She stared at the door after it closed behind him.

The name was familiar. She had heard it or read it…

Ivanov.

Bradworth was standing on the dock when they reached Gloucester. "This was a mistake," he said as he helped Hannah from the boat. "You should have discussed this with me before you came here."

She pulled away from him. "So that you could lie or talk me out of it?"

"So that I could keep you from running unnecessary risks." He glanced at Kirov. "You were wise to bring her back and turn her over to us. We won't tolerate your-"

"I'm not turning her over to you," Kirov said. "I told you she was mine, and nothing has changed. All I'm doing is letting her vent some anger and try to get a few answers from a source she has at least a minimal trust in. But I'm not letting you drown her in red tape or get her killed because you're inept. You had your chance." He turned to Hannah. "I'll be here until tomorrow night if you want to see me." He went down the hatch.

"Son of a bitch." Bradworth was staring after him. "Bastard."

He was afraid of Kirov, Hannah realized in shock. It was there in his expression-anger and frustration and fear.

"I'm sure he is," Hannah said as she turned away and strode down the pier. "And so are you, Bradworth. Let's get out of here. I'm going back to Boston. Follow me and meet me at my condo."

"I'll have one of my men drive your car back. We can talk on the way."

"I don't want to be in the same car with you for that long."

"I can understand your resentment, but I only did my duty as I saw-"

"You can't understand. Damn your duty. Damn you." She opened the driver's door of her car. "Meet me at my condo."

He hesitated, then as she started her car, he turned and hurried toward his vehicle.

Draw a deep breath. She had to get to Boston, and she didn't want to pile up against a tree because she was so angry she couldn't see straight. That would be a victory for those bastards who'd killed Conner.

Pavski. She had a name now. Not much more, but it was a start.

And she had another name.

Ivanov.

"Come in, Bradworth," she said curtly as she turned away from the door. "How much of it is true? Did this Pavski kill my brother?"

"We… suspect it."

"And you didn't tell me?"

"It's sensitive, classified information."

"Screw your classified information. Don't give me that. My brother is dead."

"I would have discussed it with you when I could."

When hell froze over, she thought bitterly. Go on to something else. "What do you know about Dimitri Ivanov?"

He went still. "What?" A multitude of expressions flitted over his face. "I beg your pardon?"

"Kirov. Ivanov. Whatever you want to call him."

"He told you-" He stopped and was silent a moment. "I wasn't expecting him to do that."

"Obviously." She went to the window and stared out into the darkness. "Why not?"

"What did he tell you?" he asked warily.

"His name. But he must have known I'd ask you questions about him. He knew I'd read those Silent Thunder dossiers, didn't he?"

"Yes."

"I thought so." Her lips twisted. "He was privy to everything that went on from the time we were hired. Right?"

"Yes."

"Dimitri Ivanov. Second officer on the Silent Thunder. Killed in an explosion at the Black Sea shipyard in 1994. He's very spry for a corpse."

"A veritable Frankenstein's monster," Bradworth said sarcastically. "I've often wished he'd meet the same fate."

"But you're clearly on the same team now."

"He doesn't think so. Ivanov's not a team player."

"And you hate his guts."

"I believe he's dangerous to the mission."

"And you hate his guts."

He shrugged. "I have a right to my opinion. I disapproved of recruiting him, and nothing that's happened since has altered my view. He's a wild card and too volatile for my taste."

"Recruited? You staged his death, and he defected?"

"He had information that was invaluable to us at the time, and he was willing to dedicate himself to further investigation."