by J. C. Fields
Kruger was barely asleep when his cell phone chirped. Without hesitating, he grabbed it from his night stand and glanced at the ID. Not recognizing the number, he accepted the call.
“Kruger.”
“Is this FBI Agent Sean Kruger?”
It was a woman’s voice, the cell phone connection weak leaving the voice thin.
He responded with a tentative, “Yes, who’s this.”
“Tanya Brown. I’m the night dispatcher for the Gallatin County, Montana, Sheriff’s Department. I’m looking at a BOLO from the FBI for a Black 2016 Kia Sportage. It gives us this number to call if we spot it.”
“Yes, Ms. Brown. Where was it spotted?”
“West of Bozeman on I-90. One of our deputies stopped it because it had a stolen license plate on it.”
Kruger frowned. “A stolen license plate?”
“Yes, a similar make and model Kia had the rear plate stolen at the Denver International Airport. Owner of the car didn’t know when it was stolen, but when he returned yesterday and putting his luggage in the back, he noticed it missing. Since it was from a black Kia, our deputy stopped the vehicle to check.”
“What happened?”
“When the deputy walked up to the driver’s window and asked him to step out, he did. Next thing the deputy knew, he was on the ground, and his front tires were flat on his patrol car. No sign of the Kia.”
“The suspect is an ex-cop.”
“Kind of explains it.”
“How is the deputy?”
“More embarrassed than hurt. It could have been worse.”
“Much worse. When did this occur?”
“About a two hours ago.”
“What direction was the Kia heading when it was stopped?”
“West.”
Kruger paused and imagined a map of the western United States. “Ms. Brown, how far is Bozeman from Seattle?”
“Oh, probably over six hundred miles, through the Flatheads.”
“Beg your pardon?”
“The Flathead Range, part of the Northern Rocky Mountains.”
“Oh. How long to drive to Seattle, seven or eight hours?”
“More like ten.”
“He’s headed back to Seattle. Thank you, Ms. Brown.”
“What do you want me to do about the BOLO?”
“You’ve done exactly what we needed.”
Kruger ended the call and immediately called Jimmie Gibbs.
He answered on the second ring. “Yeah.”
“Moody’s been spotted in Montana, heading your way. Where’s Burns?
“Went home. Lawyers convinced him the danger was over.”
“Shit.”
“Want me to head over there?”
“No, I want you to pick me up at the airport. If I can swing a ride on an agency plane, I can be there before Moody makes the drive.”
“Call me when you know.”
Kruger ended the call and sat on the edge of the bed. Stephanie chuckled. “Let me guess, you’re leaving?”
He closed his eyes and took a deep breath. Not wishing to make any excuses, he let his breath out slowly. “I hope for the last time on this case.”
“Sean, don’t worry. We’ll be here. Take care of business.”
He turned and smiled.
Chapter 44
Seattle, WA
At 4:23 a.m., Joel Moody parked the black Kia several blocks from the glass and concrete monolith known as the home of Robert Burns Sr. The original temp tag was now displayed and the stolen plate discarded. The street was quiet, the lights of the Seattle reflecting off the bay water to his right and the imposing home ahead on his left. Gaining entry would be easy. He was the individual responsible for having the security system installed and knew the correct codes to gain entry. Knowing Burns the way he did, he doubted the old man would think to have the codes changed. That was a job for someone else.
As he approached the wrought-iron fence, he looked up at the glass front and saw Seattle’s skyline reflected. The cost to buy the bay side property, tear down the existing structure, and then build this concreate monstrosity was more money than some developing country’s yearly GNP. It was also a slap in the face to the historical nature of the surrounding landscape. Moody shook his head as he tapped out the entry code on the eye-level keypad attached to a concreate support column. The lock clicked, the iron-gate opened, and he walked through.
At this hour of morning, Robert Burns and his live-in companion would be asleep in the third-floor master bedroom. He gained access to the interior through a rear door using the same code. This door led to a laundry mud-room combination. The entire house was illuminated at night by built-in night-lights imbedded in the baseboards. Between the laundry room and the back stairs was an oversized gourmet kitchen. Due to the house being constructed of steel and concrete, there was little concern about the stairs squeaking as he ascended the steps.
At the third-floor landing, he heard snoring. One was louder than the other, which meant Burns and Allison O’Brien were present.
Withdrawing the Kahr 9mm from the holster at the small of his back, he entered the bedroom.
***
Jimmie Gibbs drove the agency Tahoe toward the home of Robert Burns Sr. He noticed something and glanced back at an SUV on the side of the street.
“Sean, there’s a black Kia Sportage back there with a temp tag. Do you think?”
Kruger glanced at his watch, 5:01 a.m. “Yeah, he beat us. Call for back-up.”
After making the call, Gibbs parked the big SUV in front of the wrought-iron gate and looked over at his fellow FBI agent.
“Now what?”
“We wait. Let’s see if we can start the day without somebody getting killed.”
***
Allison O’Brien was naked and clutched the sheet tight to her neck to keep from exposing herself. Robert Burns stared at his ex-head of security as he sat with his back against the headboard. Joel Moody sat in a bedroom chair moved to the foot of the bed, his 9mm pistol trained on Burns.
“Strange turn of events, don’t you agree, Robert?”
“What do you want, Joel?”
“My life back.”
Burns snorted. “You made your own choices. I had nothing to do with them.”
Moody shook his head. “Typical rich guy. Never taking responsibility for anything.”
“Joel, what is this going to accomplish? Nothing. We’ll call my attorneys and get this misunderstanding cleared up.”
“You don’t get it, do you, Robert? There is no misunderstanding. Your son was a sexual deviate who liked to hurt women. Sometimes they died. Most of the time they didn’t, and our Russian friends took care of the mess. What happened to those girls, Robert? Do you know?”
Burns shook his head.
“No, I didn’t think you would. Too busy throwing money around protecting your scumbag son.”
“I did what a father—“
“SHUT UP.”
Burns glared at Moody.
“What exactly did you do to the Russians that pissed them off so bad they sent Bobby’s head to you in a FedEx box?”
“I don’t know.”
“Sure you do. Did you break a promise? Were they still mad about you resigning as a senator? What could you have possibly done to make them do such a thing?”
He saw a tear leak out the side of Burns’ eye.
“Son of a bitch, you do have emotions,” he marveled. “I didn’t think you had the capacity to feel for anyone but yourself.”
“You don’t know me very well.”
The cell phone on the nightstand next to Burns started vibrating.
Moody smiled. “Answer it, Robert. That will be the FBI. I’m sure they know we’re together.”
Burns picked up the phone and accepted the call. “Hello.”
He was silent as he listened. “Yes, this is Robert Burns.” More silence. “Yes, he is sitting in front of me with a gun pointed in my direction.” Burns stared at
Moody while he listened. He took the phone away from his ear and offered it to Moody. “They want to speak to you.”
“Toss it to the foot of the bed.”
Burns complied and tossed the phone. It landed in front of Moody at the foot of the bed. He picked it up. “Yeah.”
“Joel, this is Sean Kruger.”
“I suppose you’re going to try and talk me out of ending the life of this sorry excuse for a human being sitting in front of me. Aren’t you?”
“That’s one of the things I’d like to accomplish. But first I want to know if there is anything you need at the moment.”
“Spare me the hostage-negotiation 101. I took the course.”
Kruger frowned. Negotiating with someone who knew the drill would be challenging. He took a different track. “Is Allison O’Brien there?”
“Yes.”
“Have you hurt her, Joel?”
“Not yet.”
“Joel, exactly what are your plans?”
“Haven’t got that far yet. I needed to have a chat with Robert.”
“Have you?”
“We just got started when you interrupted.”
“Let Allison go, Joel. Your interest is Robert, not her.”
“Not going to happen, Agent. This conversation is going nowhere, I’m ending it.”
He took the phone from his ear and placed it on his right thigh, the end-call icon untouched.
***
Kruger looked at the phone screen, the call was still active. He muted his microphone and turned to Gibbs. “He didn’t end the call, he wants us to listen. Call JR, he can record calls on my phone.”
He returned to listening.
***
“Now where were we, Robert?”
“This is madness, Joel, they know where you are. They’ll storm in here and arrest you.”
“Not necessarily. You see, they know I have two hostages being held at gunpoint. Because of that, they will not endanger your life until I give up, or they believe they have no other choice.”
“You don’t know that.”
“Yes, I do, Robert. You see I completed hostage-negotiating training. There are strict guidelines on how to handle hostage situations. So, for now, we have a few hours to discuss why the Russians sent Bobby’s head to you in a box.”
“I don’t know.”
Moody pointed the gun at Allison. “Do not underestimate my resolve on this matter, Robert. Allison is nice to look at, but that won’t stop me from killing her.”
“You won’t do it, Joel.”
Glaring at Burns, Moody took the cell phone in his left hand, stood, and walked over to the side of the bed where Allison was sitting. She looked at him with wide eyes. Pointing the gun at her head, he tilted his head slightly. “Want to find out?”
She gasped and looked at Burns. “Tell him, Robert. Tell him.” Her voice was on the verge of panic.
Burns looked at her and then Moody. “Very well, sit down, Joel. There is no need to harm Allison.”
***
Gibbs ended the call to JR and turned back to Kruger, who was still listening to the events playing out on the third floor of the Burns house.
“JR has the recording going. What’s happening?”
“Moody just threatened to kill Allison unless Burns tells him about the Russians.”
“Is that why he didn’t end the call?”
Kruger nodded.
As they spoke, additional police and FBI agents in tactical gear arrived at the scene. Gibbs left Kruger’s side to start coordinating the next phase of the operation.
***
“From the beginning, Robert. Don’t leave out any details.”
“You of all people know how it started. You brought my son’s indiscretions to my attention.”
“Robert, don’t call them indiscretions. He was a sexual predator who liked to beat up hookers.”
“Regardless of what you wish to call them, you brought his activities to my attention. The individuals responsible for bringing those types of women into the country didn’t like the fact he was harming their assets.”
Moody laughed out loud. “You’re as sick as your son, Burns. You just called human beings assets.”
“To the individuals responsible for their presence in Seattle, they were assets. If you’re going to interrupt me every time I say something, this situation is never going to end.”
“Go on.”
“Needless to say, they were watching you and found out Bobby was my son. This was the event leading to my introduction to Dmitri Orlov.” Burns took a deep breath and let it out slowly. “He had a problem and determined I was the perfect individual to solve his problem.”
“What was his problem, Robert?”
“He needed help getting a few banking regulations relaxed in the U.S. to help his banks do more business. When I asked how I could possibly help, he told me I needed to become a U.S. Senator.”
“Just like that? Become a senator and save your son.”
“Yes. I funded my own campaign and discovered I enjoyed politics. Once I was in congress, Orlov explained what regulations needed to be relaxed. As it turned out, there were several like-minded senators who co-sponsored the legislation and helped me convince the President. The regulations were relaxed and in some instances, repealed.”
“What happened then, Robert?”
“The Great Recession was a direct result of relaxing the banking regulation Orlov wanted changed. When I learned what I had helped create, my enthusiasm for the Senate waned. I lost interest and started spending more time in Seattle.”
“So my catching Bobby raping the intern was your excuse to get out of the Senate.”
“Yes, it was a perfect out.”
“That was the part I didn’t understand, why you agreed so quickly to not seek re-election.”
“That was the reason.”
“So Orlov explained to you why that was a bad decision and you had to do something to make amends. Get Bobby elected.”
“Yes.”
“Who paid for his election?”
“It was mostly laundered Russian money.”
“Why were they so adamant about having someone they could control in the Senate?”
“Orlov told me the Great Recession was an unanticipated consequence of relaxing the regulations. They decided if they had enough senators in their pocket, they could over time destabilize our government.”
Moody stared at Burns, his mouth gapping. “You’re kidding, right?”
“No, that was their plan.”
“So they killed Bobby to send you a message.”
“Yes.”
“Did you get the message?”
“Yes.”
“What was it?”
“Finance the campaigns of their hand-picked candidates.”
“By hand-picked, you mean candidates they’ve compromised?”
“Yes. They will make sure those candidates will support changing laws to help destabilize our government.”
“And you’re going to do it.”
“No, I’ve caused enough damage. I haven’t told Orlov yet, but once I tell him, I’ll be dead within a month.”
Moody smiled and brought the cell phone back to his ear. “Did you get all that, Agent Kruger?”
Kruger unmuted his phone. “Yes, it’s all been recorded. Now, put the gun away and we’ll get everybody out of this alive.”
Moody placed the phone back on the bed near Burns’ feet. He smiled at Burns and shook his head.
“You get off easy, motherfucker.”
Without hesitation, Moody placed the barrel of the Kahr 9mm under his chin and pulled the trigger.
Chapter 45
Springfield, MO
Two Weeks Later
JR Diminski sat in the soundproof conference room on the second floor of his office building. Kruger sat across from him, staring at the Polycom VoIP Conference Phone. On the other end of the call was Director of the FBI Paul Stumpf, Assi
stant Director of the FBI Alan Seltzer and Attorney General Brian McAlister at the Hoover Building, with Washington District Attorney Carol Welch in her office.
“What’s our next step?” asked Director Stumpf.
“I want to know what happened to all the women who’ve disappeared at the hands of the younger Burns.”
“So do we, Sean. Do you have any ideas?”
“Since his arrest, the father has been cooperating with our Seattle field office. He confirmed Moody was the conduit for alerting Orlov about the son’s activities. I think the Russian knows what happened to them.”
McAlister spoke next. “Getting Orlov to talk could be a problem, Agent Kruger?”
“Does he have diplomatic immunity?”
“No, he has a visa.”
Kruger paused and thought for a few moments, then suggested, “Revoke his visa and issue an arrest-on-sight warrant.”
Seltzer said, “That’s an interesting idea.”
“It could work. After the arrest warrant is issued, I want him to know I’m the one responsible.”
“Why?” Stumpf’s voice held a note of concern.
“Because I want a meeting.”
“Are you sure?”
“Yes, I’m sure.”
“Why?”
“I want to know what happened to the college students.”
The meeting lasted another ten minutes as details for the arrest warrant were worked out.
After the conference call ended, Kruger looked at JR. “Would you be able to find a cell phone number for Orlov?”
JR looked up from the laptop in front of him and nodded. “Been working on it since you mentioned having a meeting.”
“Any luck?”
“Yes, apparently he has the number on his business card.”
Kruger smiled slightly. “You’re kidding.”
“No, he portrays himself as an international banker, therefore he freely gives the number out.”
“That’s not the number I want to use. He has to have another less public phone.”
“He does. I just found it.”