by J. C. Fields
“How?”
JR smiled. “Trade secret.”
Kruger chuckled.
***
Kruger was back at JR’s office the next day. During the twenty four hours since the phone call, the State Department notified Orlov via email about the revoking of his visa. At the same time the email was being sent, the Department of Justice issued a warrant for his arrest. Now it was time to have a quick chat with the man.
Sitting at the conference table, he waited for JR to set up the call. “Will he be able to trace this call back to you?”
JR shook his head. “If they try, it will appear to be coming from a coffee house in Abuja, Nigeria.”
Kruger chuckled and just shook his head. “Amazing.”
“Not really.” A minute later, he looked up from the laptop. “Ready?”
Kruger nodded.
“Here we go.” He touched the enter key and both men looked at the Polycom unit. After a few moments, a voice said, “Da.”
“Dmitri Orlov?”
“Kto eto?”
Kruger looked at JR, who turned the laptop around. A translation program displayed the meaning: Who is this?
Kruger nodded. “This is FBI Special Agent Sean Kruger, Mr. Orlov.”
The Polycom box was silent. JR shook his head and whispered, “Call’s still connected. He’s thinking, trying to figure it out.”
“I’ve heard of you Agent Kruger. You have been a busy FBI agent recently and the one responsible for a sudden change in my status in the United States.”
“Yes, I am. I wanted to give you a courtesy call about your situation.”
“Interesting. How did you get this number?”
“Phone book.”
There was a small chuckle from the Russian. “Apparently, I forgot to tell them it was unlisted.”
“Mistakes happen.”
“Yes. Now, what did you want to tell me about my visa?”
“I understand you received an email explaining why it was revoked.”
“A clerical error, I am sure.”
“No, it’s not a clerical error. Were you aware of an arrest-on-sight warrant issued by the Department of Justice?”
The Russian was silent again. Finally, he returned to the conversation. “You are just full of good news today. Why would your Department of Justice issue an arrest warrant? I am just a businessman.”
“They don’t think so.”
“Ah… What do you think, Agent Kruger?”
“My opinion doesn’t matter. The opinion of the DOJ does.”
“How do I change the DOJ’s opinion?”
“They believe a meeting between you and me would go a long way in settling this misunderstanding.”
“A meeting.”
“Yes, a meeting.”
“Where? In the United States? I would be arrested. No thank you, Agent.”
“I will meet you anywhere else in the world, except Russia.”
“Neutral ground?”
“Yes, neutral ground.”
“Paris. I like Paris.”
“I do, too.”
“Good, one week from today, same time. In front of the Louvre. Since you have my phone number, I will assume you have my email address.”
Kruger looked at JR, who nodded. “Yes, I do.”
“I will remember not to underestimate you, Agent Kruger.”
“And I will not underestimate you, Mr. Orlov.”
“That would be wise. Send me details of what you want to discuss so I can be prepared.”
“See you next week, Mr. Orlov.”
The call ended.
JR smiled. “Have you ever been to Paris?”
“Once, on an investigation. Why?”
“Great city, but don’t meet him by yourself. You’ll need back-up.”
“That’s what Gibbs and Knoll are for.”
***
“Have you ever been to Paris, Steph?”
Stephanie Kruger was standing at the kitchen counter preparing a salad for dinner. She was displaying a wide smile.
“No, I haven’t. So when did you decide we’d be going to Paris?”
“This morning, when I scheduled a meeting.”
The smile faded. “A meeting?”
He nodded. “If it lasts more than an hour, I’ll be shocked.”
The smile returned. “All the way to Paris for an hour meeting? That seems a little wasteful.”
“Not if it results in finding out where the missing college students are.”
She stopped and turned to stare at him. “Who are you meeting?”
“A Russian banker named Dmitri Orlov, who just happens to have ties to the Russian mafia here in the states.”
“How would he know?”
“Good question. I hope to find out.”
“Sean, we aren’t going if you’re going to be in any danger.”
“I’ll have back up. Jimmie Gibbs and Sandy Knoll.”
She noticeably relaxed and returned to preparing dinner. “Good.”
“Sandy’s bringing his wife.”
She jerked her head up and stared at her husband. “Sandy’s married?”
“Yup, twenty three years. They have two boys, both in the military.”
“How come you never told me about it?”
“Because I didn’t know it until this afternoon.”
“He never talks about her.”
“I know, I asked him why.”
“What’d he say?”
“He indicated it was an agreement between him and his wife. I understand, I don’t discuss my family at work.”
She folded her arms over her chest. “And why not? Are you ashamed of us?”
He smiled, walked over, and embraced her. “You never know who might be listening.” Changing the subject, he asked, “Is your passport still valid?”
“Yes, when we got married, I had my name changed on it.”
“Good. We’ll plan for a week’s stay.”
“What about the kids?”
“Brian and Michelle already agreed to watch them.”
“Guess I’m going to Paris.”
“Yes, you are.”
Chapter 46
Paris, France
Kruger stood on the west side of the Pyramide du Louvre, Jimmie Gibbs on his left and Sandy Knoll to his right. All wore jeans and, to ward off the cold Paris afternoon temperatures, leather jackets. They faced the Place du Carrousel as a black Mercedes S560 pulled to the curb.
“This must be him.” Knoll said.
Kruger nodded, but remained quiet.
A heavy-set man in a black knee-length overcoat exited the curbside rear door, stood, and buttoned his suitcoat underneath. A man, roughly the size of Knoll, joined him, having exited the car on the opposite side. A tall, slender man exited from the front passenger door and also surveyed his surroundings.
Gibbs leaned in and spoke quietly to Kruger, “Big guy is Boris Volkov, ex-Spetsnaz and current director of security for Orlov. Skinny guy is Yuri Popov, last known to be associated with OMON.”
Without taking his attention away from the approaching Russian, Kruger asked, “What’s that?”
“Special Forces of the Russian Federal police, equivalent to our SWAT and Rapid Response Units.”
Nodding, Kruger turned to Knoll. “When was the last time you saw Orlov?”
“June 2000. I was on the team making sure our new Embassy was secure. Orlov attended one of the receptions. Smart guy, well connected with the Politburo. Don’t believe too much of what he says.”
“Wasn’t planning on it.”
They watched as the Mercedes pulled away from the curb, and the three men walked toward them. Kruger maintained a neutral expression as did Gibbs and Knoll.
When the newcomers were within ten feet, Orlov smiled, “Agent Sean Kruger, it is pleasure to finally meet you.”
Kruger nodded. “Nice to meet you, Mr. Orlov.”
The Russian chuckled. “Call me Dmitri.”
/> Nodding again, Kruger kept his hands in his jacket pockets. Neither man offered to shake the other’s hand.
Orlov turned his attention to Knoll, “Benedict Knoll, it’s been, what? Twenty years?”
“Eighteen, actually.”
“Time flies.”
“Indeed, it does.”
Turning to Gibbs, the Russian smiled. “James Gibbs. I understand your swimming records still stand within the ranks of the U.S. Navy Seals.”
“Don’t know. Haven’t checked lately.”
“Ahhh… Trust me, they do.”
He turned to the slender man standing next to him and spoke in Russian. As the man was speaking, Gibbs leaned over and translated for Kruger.
“He’s telling Popov about my swimming records,” he whispered. “Apparently Popov is a swimmer, too. He seems impressed.”
Kruger nodded, not taking his eyes off Orlov.
The Russian turned his attention back to Kruger. “Excuse my manners.” He motioned to the larger man. “This is Boris Volkov, he is our bank’s Director of Security. My colleague on the left is Yuri Popov, Mr. Volkov’s assistant.”
Nodding at each man as they were introduced, Kruger tilted his head slightly. “I believe you were concerned about your visa being revoked, Mr. Orlov.”
“Ahhh, yes, the American propensity to get right to the point. I agree, no need for chit-chat. Let us walk, Agent Kruger. It is a beautiful crisp fall day in this lovely city. Is this your first time here?”
“No, I was here about ten years ago on an investigation.”
“I have an office here. I prefer Paris to Moscow. Moscow is too cold.”
Kruger remained quiet as they started walking west, falling into step next to each other, Gibbs and Knoll slightly behind Kruger’s left, Volkov and Popov in a similar position to the right of Orlov.
As they crossed the Place du Carrousel, Kruger started the conversation. “It is a lovely city. Unfortunately I didn’t get to enjoy much of it last time I was here.”
“You should bring your wife sometime. It is such a romantic city. Best restaurants in the world and, in my opinion, the best wine.”
“So I’ve been told.” Kruger chose not to tell the Russian that Stephanie was here and they were planning a week’s vacation after the meeting.
As they crossed through Tuileries Garden, Orlov switched from pointing out historical spots and finally got to the point.
“I wanted to ask you why you have an arrest warrant on me. I need to travel to the States several times a year on business and this will create great difficulties for me.”
“I understand. The Department of Justice is the one who issued the warrant, not me.”
“Yes, but it was your investigation of Robert Burns Jr. that resulted in it being issued.”
“True.”
“So why do you think I was involved?”
“Were you?”
The man walking to his right laughed. “Of course not, Agent Kruger. I am a businessman, not a criminal.”
“Do you know someone by the name of Yaakov Romanovich?”
“It is a common name, but I don’t believe so. Why?”
“He tried to kill me in Washington, D.C. He missed. However, he knows you. He indicated you two were, ah…” Kruger glanced at Orlov, “acquainted.”
Orlov did not respond as he watched a young couple walking toward them.
After they passed, the Russian shook his head. “I can assure you, we are not, as you say, acquainted.”
Kruger smiled slightly. “I see. Yaakov was shot before he shot me. He survived, but, then you knew that. Anyway, when he recovered enough to understand the penalties for attempting to kill an FBI agent, he developed a severe case of diarrhea of the mouth.”
Orlov shot a quick glance at Volkov, who nodded slightly. Turning his attention back to Kruger, he asked, “What did this Romanovich individual say that has your Department of Justice so upset?”
Smiling slightly as they continued their walk on the Champs-Elysees heading toward the Arc de Triomphe off in the distance, Kruger answered the question.
“He told us you offered a twenty-five thousand dollar bounty to anyone who could stop my investigation of the Burns family.”
“Nonsense.”
Kruger shrugged. “Just telling you why there is an arrest warrant out on you. You asked.”
“That I did. How do I get it lifted?”
“Rescind the offer and tell me why Robert Burns Sr. and Junior, and Joel Moody were so important to Russia.”
“It is hard to rescind an offer I did not make, Agent. But, I will make inquiries.”
“Thank you. What about Moody and the father and son?”
The Russian could be heard chuckling. “That is more complicated.”
“How so?”
“You must remember I am not involved with these matters.”
“Of course you aren’t, but being a well-connected businessman you have probably heard things.”
“Agent Kruger, Robert Burns Sr. was not always rich. In fact, there was a time he could not get a loan from any of your American banks.”
“And you graciously loaned him money.”
“I did not, but the bank I was associated with at the time did. I was the individual who negotiated the loan for him.”
“So you’ve had a long relationship with Burns.”
“Correct.”
“Is that why he decided to run for the Senate?”
Orlov shrugged. “He did not tell me the reason he ran.”
“It wasn’t to help ease bank regulations to help with the profits of your banks?”
“Of course not, Agent.” Orlov turned to Kruger with a menacing stare. “That would be illegal in your country.”
“Yes, it would.” Kruger returned the stare with the same expression. Neither man averted their eyes from each other for several moments.
Orlov smiled. “Enough about Robert Burns. How do I get this ridiculous arrest warrant rescinded?”
“Tell me what happened to the girls.”
“What girls?”
“Don’t insult my intelligence, Mr. Orlov. We know Burns paid Russian nationalists to get rid of Junior’s victims. Where are they?”
Silence was Kruger’s answer. He glanced at Orlov as they walked. The man was staring at the windows of the shops they walked past. Kruger remained quiet, waiting for a response.
Finally, Orlov said. “It is a sad part of my country’s past.”
“Past?”
“Yes. My government has made much progress over the last decade to prevent this activity. However, due to the profits associated with human trafficking, certain criminal elements continue to be active. The women you refer too were involved before this crack-down occurred.”
“Where are they?”
Orlov took a deep breath. “I do not know. I can speculate if you want.”
“Please.”
“A few died of their injuries at the hands of the son. Most did not.”
Kruger frowned. “Were they killed by the men who were paid to clean up?”
Orlov shook his head. “No, they were drugged and sold as sex slaves in the Middle East. Many rich Arabs, while expounding religious edicts, have yearnings for young western women and are willing to pay huge sums of money for them.”
Closing his eyes, Kruger was silent for a long time as they walked. Finally he asked. “What happened when the men who bought them grew tired of them?”
“I do not know. But they were never allowed to go home.”
“So they’re dead.”
“I would assume so.”
“That’s why their bodies have never been found. They weren’t even on the continent.”
Orlov nodded.
“Why was Burns Jr. killed and his head shipped to the father via a FedEx box?”
“Did you see the movie The Godfather, Agent Kruger?”
“It was a message?”
“I would say a powerful message.
Certain individuals were not happy with the loss of money and time they spent getting the son elected to the Senate.”
“I thought the elder Burns put up the money.”
“Yes, yes, that is what he wants everyone to think. He did not.”
Kruger’s suspicions were finally confirmed, but he had one more question.
“How many other politicians are compromised like Burns?”
Smiling, Orlov didn’t answer at first. “How would I know that information, Agent Kruger?”
“Silly question. Sorry I asked.”
Orlov nodded his head. “Now that I have answered your questions, I have a question of my own.”
“I’ll try to answer it.”
“Why are you so concerned about these women, Agent Kruger?”
Taking a deep breath, Kruger closed his eyes for a brief moment. Once his emotions were under control, he replied, “I don’t like rich guys thinking the law doesn’t apply to them.” His stare was fixed on Orlov.
Returning the glare, Orlov nodded. “I see. I appreciate the honesty. Now, what about the warrant for my arrest should I return to New York City?”
Their walked ended as they approached the circle drive around the Arc de Triomphe.
“I don’t suppose you have any connections with your government’s Foreign Service division, do you?”
Orlov shrugged. “Possibly.”
“If they could find out where the bodies of these women are located, that would go a long way in getting the arrest warrant cancelled.”
“An interesting thought, Agent. I will make some calls.”
“One other request.”
“The price of my freedom grows.”
“Yes. The price of freedom is expensive.”
“What is your request?”
“A name.”
“I can give you a lot of names. Whose name?”
“The name of the individual who organizes the sale of the women.”
Orlov was silent as he stared at Kruger. Finally after almost a minute, he nodded. “The one you seek is actually a Syrian who now lives in Oman. He knows many rich Arabs and has been in business over twenty years. However, he is no longer involved with these types of transactions.”
“Oh, what is he organizing now?”
The smile Orlov gave Kruger told him a lot. The Russian wanted something done about this individual.