Read Whirlwind for Free Online Page A

given.
    Her father is the key. Don’t ask me how I know, but be damned certain that I do. He wanted a third son to follow him into the Navy. Instead he got a useless daughter. And she got raised by a father who wanted her to be something she wasn’t. That’s why she has to prove herself. That’s what’s behind the academic excellence, the fencing, the Olympic gold. That’s why she turned spy. The FSB is the only Russian military arm in which a woman can succeed on her own merits. Yeah, merits. She’s got ‘em in spades. Plus the mind and motivation. Smart and tough, she’ll win or she’ll die. Irina Kolodenkova isn’t the kind of gal to settle for anything in between.
    What else did he now know about her? There was something. It was… it was… just beyond his grasp. He’d read it or he’d seen it or he’d deduced it, he could nearly touch it, but it was slipping away, and damnit it was important, everything was important, but this particular thing was more important than almost anything else, and unless he locked his radar in on it right this very moment…
    Oh, yeah. Of course. Obvious. He shuffled through the photographs, his eye glinting like arctic ice, and sure enough there it was. Gorgeous girl. Crappy clothing. In every damned photo she’s dressed like a frump. More than that: no makeup, no jewelry, God Almighty, her ears aren’t pierced! Okay, beautiful, now I know you, yes, I do, I know it all, especially the things you don’t want me to know, and so, my lovely lass, I own you body and soul. Irina Kolodenkova, you are mine!
    Charlie returned from a faraway place. He drummed his fingers across the top of Irina’s dossier. “Sam,” he said. Then he said nothing.
    “What?”
    Charlie drummed his fingers more.
    “Speak to me, Charlie.”
    Charlie opened his mouth then closed it. Sam threw up his hands in frustration. Charlie finally found the words, but couldn’t speak them. Laughter rendered him speechless.
    Finally, taking considerable satisfaction at the mottled purple of Sam’s face, he managed to sputter, “Sammy, oh, Sammy boy, this time you’ve got yourself a real problem on your hands!”
    The sun was in her eyes.
    East, she was driving east. Had been for hours.
    Some miles back, there’d been road signs welcoming her to the great state of Texas, drive safely, speed limits strictly enforced. Now she was seeing more signs. Big billboards advertising factory outlets, auto dealers, restaurants, and private clubs that guaranteed “the most beautiful women in the whole southwest. Friendliest too.”
    She was on a six-lane highway, the kind Americans called an interstate.
    Not good.
    Such roads were heavily patrolled. Soon, if not already, a sleepy tourist family would step out of their motel room, staring with bewilderment at an empty parking space.
    The authorities would be summoned. A police officer would take note of a nearby Jeep with bullet holes in its back. Shortly thereafter, a description of both the Volvo and the Jeep would be broadcast. Then the kennels of hell would open, the hounds beginning their hunt.
    The clock on the dashboard panel read 7:37 A.M. That would be Mountain time. Now she was in the Central zone, an hour ahead, 8:37 in the morning.
    She was running out of time.
    The outskirts of the city flew past. Every off ramp pointed to: Gas, Food,
    Lodging. Up ahead, at the next exit, she saw a sign she recognized. It sat atop a tall white pole, rotating slowly in the bleak morning sun: SAFEWAY, a grocery chain. One of the biggest. Irina steered up the ramp, through an intersection, into a parking lot.
    A small breeze whipped dust devils across the empty lot. Ashen tumble-weed ricocheted against a light pole. Harsh, barren, hostile it was a place where coyotes would congregate by night, and they would sing.
    Asphalt may replace sand, but pavement alters no desert.
    At this early hour, only a few cars clustered around the supermarket’s entrance. Although she was fiercely