by S. L. Jones
“No,” Zander said. He turned the light on so he could get a better look. “It’s a rough neighborhood.”
Zander recognized the man’s face. He was one of the soldiers who normally guarded the server room. He didn’t have his gun out, but given the fierce look in his eyes, he didn’t need one. The hacker focused on trying to act normal.
“We need to take a ride. Dimitri would like to speak to you.”
The potent combination of pressure and fear challenged his concentration. “Sure thing,” he said as he switched the laptops. “I was just heading back there anyway.” He forced a smile. “I realized I grabbed the wrong computer on my way out.” He decided he’d try to sound excited. “I’ve got some great news. I finally fixed that bug I’ve been working on. Can you believe it?”
The Russian wasn’t affected by his words and motioned Zander toward the door. “Let’s go.”
They headed down the stairs and then outside.
“This way to the car,” the Russian said with a shove to the left.
Zander knew once he got to his car there would be no way out.
Chapter 46
Island Industries satellite office, Reston, VA
“CALM DOWN, MATILDE, I can’t understand a word you’re saying,” Addy Simpson said in a calm but deliberate voice. He had spoken to Matilde Soller infrequently after she’d married his old college rival, but each time she reached out to him it was for something significant. He tapped his index finger on his desk. His other hand held his cell phone to his ear.
“They took my baby, Addy,” she said, sobbing uncontrollably. “They took my baby. She’s all I have left!”
“Who, Matilde? Who?”
“I don’t know. I just don’t know.”
He had never heard her so terrified.
“People are dead. She was screaming. They tried to get me, but I got away.”
“Who’s dead?”
Matilde’s voice was desperate. “I…I don’t know. God, they better not hurt my baby.”
The news filled him with anger. “Who tried to grab you?”
“I don’t know, Addy. They came at my car while Maria was checking the house. She wanted to see if she could find out who they were.”
“Hold on a second, wait,” he said. He needed to calm her down. “Bella, you’re losing me. Where are you?”
“I’m driving,” she said.
“Okay. Take some deep breaths and start over from the beginning.”
Simpson hadn’t called her Bella since they had been dating in college. He hoped doing so would slow down her panicked thoughts and help to ground her.
He told her to pull the car over to the side of the road to collect herself, and then she gave him the details about everything she could remember. She explained how the phone had cut out, and that it had happened just after she had driven away. She said it sounded like they were leaving the house at the time.
“Does your car have a GPS?”
“Yes.”
“Good. Tell me about the house. I’ll have an analyst examine the waypoints from your car.”
“It was offset from the road, surrounded by trees in a very quiet area. It had a long gravel driveway. Someone left in a car just before Maria went to take a closer look. It wasn’t one of the SUVs. I’m not sure what kind of car it was.”
“Do you know how many people were in there?”
“No. I heard several different voices. The men that went inside after they grabbed Maria sounded Russian.”
“Russian? Are you sure?” He could sense she was reliving the event in her mind, and winced.
“I don’t know for sure. Their accents were pretty thick, but the phone cut out and…” She paused, and he could hear her try to reel in her sobs before she continued. “And they said they wouldn’t kill them if they cooperated.” Despair had crept into her voice by the time she added, “She said she loved me, Addy.”
There was an uncomfortable silence.
“It was the last thing she said to me. I was too scared to tell her I love her too.”
He heard her sobbing and then try to regain control.
“I didn’t want them to know I was listening,” she said.
“Don’t worry, Bella. I’ll find her. You did the right thing. Does Max know you’ve called me?”
“No.”
Simpson knew how to handle her husband. He’d been doing it for years. First he got the best of him on the field, and then, despite the man’s attempts to bring him down, in Washington. It was a jealous rivalry that ran deep. The senator had gotten the woman in the end, but he was never able to steal her heart.
He used the phone on his desk to confirm the Poolesville location with an analyst at The Shop. It pained him to hear her crying in the background, and just before he relayed the news, she spoke.
“I’m sorry, Addy.” There was a deep sadness in her voice. “For everything.”
Leaving him when he had finally achieved his goal of becoming a Navy SEAL, she had once told him, was her biggest regret in life, and marrying Max Soller two years later was a close second. Her husband had cost Simpson his post at the CIA, and when she found out about what the senator had done, it was the beginning of the end of their marriage. Maximillian Soller was a powerful politician, and the couple had stayed together, first for the children, and then for appearance’s sake. That, she confided in him, had been another mistake.
Simpson closed his eyes and took a deep breath before finally saying, “There’s no need to apologize, Bella.” He needed to compartmentalize and treat this like any other operation. “Maria needs you to be strong and keep your head clear. Let me know if you think of anything else. Anything,” he insisted.
Chapter 47
Dulles Airport, Northern Virginia
THE AIRPORT WAS light on travelers for a Saturday evening, which would make it easier for Trent Turner to spot anything out of the ordinary. Heckler put Etzy Millar in contact with technology assets at The Shop before they headed to the airport, and under the circumstances, the fact that someone else knew their itinerary made the operative a bit uneasy. He used a kit at the townhouse to create a new driver’s license for Millar, and the hacker was now Jerry Rask, someone with the same birth date and age to make things easier. The Shop had made sure everything would check out when his ID was scanned into the airport’s computer systems.
“Okay, Etzy, are you ready for this?”
“Yeah, I think so.”
“Do you remember the signals for the cameras?”
“Yeah, you’ll be like a third-base coach.”
Turner laughed. “I’ll try to be a little more discreet than that. We don’t want the cameras to scan our faces, or we might end up having some company.”
“Are you sure they have facial recognition?”
“These days they can recognize people by their walk.”
“So let me get this straight,” he said, pulling his baseball cap down. “I go first, and if I get searched at the checkpoint, you’ll be behind me or mess with your stuff until I’m clear, and if you get searched I should keep going toward the gate but find a place to wait for you so you can point out the cameras.”
“That’s right. If I’m searched, remember to keep your head down until we link up.” Turner put a firm hand on Millar’s shoulder to calm him. “Just take it easy. It’ll be fine. Remember what I told you about being anonymous. It works. You can become invisible.”
“What about the bag?”
Turner winked. The hacker’s smile told him he’d finally put it together.
“Bagman. I get it.”
Turner dropped Millar off at the departures area and drove to short-term parking. Less than five minutes had passed when Turner casually strolled past him and led them to the ticket kiosks. He made sure the machine spit out the hacker’s plane ticket after he scanned in his new driver’s license.
They headed toward the security checkpoint. The operative used the reflections in the massive windows to m
ake sure they were in the clear and that Etzy recognized his signals. He stopped to adjust his bag so the hacker could go through the security-checkpoint line first, as planned. Both men emptied their bags and placed their electronic devices, jackets, belts, and shoes into plastic containers. Turner was concerned with the amount of cameras that canvased the checkpoint area and hoped Millar would do a good job of keeping his head down.
The fact that Francis “Etzy” Millar’s name had been kept out of the headlines made their trip through the airport easier, but there was a bigger problem brewing, based on Cannibal’s latest report. It had revealed that the top man at the FBI had been purposely holding back information about his presence at the murder scene. Millar was already nervous enough, so the development wasn’t something that Turner wanted to share just yet.
He overtook Millar on their way to the gate so he could identify the cameras. He took the seat with the best vantage point when they arrived at the gate, and Millar sat across from him without making eye contact. The slog through the cameras was over. Now it was time for the nerve-racking part. Turner stood and placed a newspaper on his seat.
“Excuse me,” he said to the elderly woman sitting next to him.
“Yes?”
He gave her a warm smile and said, “I’ll be right back. Could you please make sure the plane doesn’t leave without me?”
“Of course.” She laughed, before her expression changed to one of concern. “Don’t you fly much?”
“No, ma’am. I try to keep my feet on the ground.”
She smiled. “They don’t wait for anyone these days, so it’s best for you to hurry back.”
Turner bowed his head in thanks and grabbed his bag before heading down the corridor to take care of business.
Chapter 48
Englewood neighborhood, Chicago, IL
EVERY COUPLE OF steps he felt a push to hurry him along. Dennis Zander was walking as slowly as he could, and his Russian chaperone was clearly getting annoyed. They were headed toward South Halsted Street, where he assumed the Bratva soldier’s car was parked, when he had an idea. It was crazy, desperate even, but he wasn’t exactly drowning in options.
Zander looked up at the Russian and said, “Hey, can we take care of my car really quick? I don’t want it to get towed.” He didn’t even own a car, but he hoped the Bratva man wouldn’t know that.
The Russian ignored him.
“Look, man, if it gets towed, I’ll be up shit’s creek. I’ve got a bunch of unpaid parking tickets, and I don’t want this to turn into a mess. The cops might put me on the radar and start asking around, you know. They’re real assholes at the place I park it, so things could get ugly.”
He watched the Bratva soldier’s face as he considered the request. Zander knew that back in Russia the police had no problem making life miserable for less, so he hoped the soldier would want to stay clear of any kind of police involvement.
“Okay, but I will go with you,” he said.
“Sure, you can help smooth things over.” He couldn’t help but smile. “It’s this way.”
Zander directed them across the street and headed for the building on the corner.
“It’s parked out back,” he said. “Hopefully they won’t be too pissed off. They can get a little testy in this place.”
Not much had changed at the New Generations Lounge since his unceremonious exit. There were now two men sitting at the bar instead of three. The third, Dwayne, was being attended to by his waitress girlfriend behind the bar. Nobody turned around at the sound of the door chime, so Zander walked straight to the bar.
The Bratva soldier had stopped a few feet short and quickly became engrossed in the Miami Vice episode that was on the television. Zander made it all the way to the bar and still no one had bothered to acknowledge his presence. He knew Dwayne’s fuse would burn fast, and he planned to take advantage of it. A chase scene was blaring on the television, so the hacker kept his volume low enough so the Russian wouldn’t be able to hear.
“Hey. Hey, Dwaynie boy,” he goaded. His smart-assed tone drew scowls from the couple behind the bar, and he motioned his thumb back indicating the Russian. “My buddy here has no problem taking care of your pussy ass for me.” He looked over at the two men sitting on stools with half-full pint glasses in front of them. He could feel the tension rise the moment he engaged them, and decided the more the merrier. “He said he’ll take out your asshole friends too. You might want to let him finish watching his TV program, though, or you’ll really piss him off.”
“Your ass is fucking dead!” Dwayne yelled.
Zander backed up enough to position the Russian between them and feigned a look of surprise. He looked to the soldier and said, “I think they’re a little upset about the car.”
Dwayne’s face reddened as he began to charge from behind the bar. The other men jumped up from their stools and waited for their friend to take the first shot. Dwayne didn’t have a chance. The Russian was lightning quick and landed a blow that shattered his nose and sent him straight to the ground.
His friends began to charge the former Spetsnaz soldier, and Zander took the opportunity to make a break for the door. His forward progress stopped suddenly. He felt the straps of his backpack pulling him backward and tried to shake loose, but the soldier was too strong. He was ripped back violently, but the Russian’s sudden change in attention provided the opportunity the other men needed. The two who had been sitting at the bar tackled the soldier to the ground, and the trio landed with a sickening thud.
Zander shook himself loose and turned to see the waitress standing behind the bar with her hands on her head. Cracking sounds and grunts erupted from the violent mass on the floor, and then the motion stopped.
The hacker was frozen as the Russian stood up. His face was bloody, and his clothes were torn. Zander trembled violently, and his heart thumped. His legs felt like they were glued to the floor. The soldier took his first step toward him, when a shrill scream demanded their attention.
The waitress launched herself through the air like a wild cat and sank her teeth into the Russian’s face. The hacker felt like he had been transported into some kind of zombie flick and quickly scrambled out the door and took off into the night.
Chapter 49
Hart Senate Office Building, Washington, DC
SENATOR SOLLER HAD been in his office for most of the day and through the evening. The Director of the FBI had just filled him in on a new development in the case concerning an incident at a Dulles Airport TSA security checkpoint. His anger had risen to a boiling rage as he paced back and forth. His cell phone broke the silence, and when he saw the number on the display, he was ready to unleash his fury.
“What do you want?” he said coldly.
“Someone has taken Maria,” Matilde Soller said with a hint of panic.
The senator fumed as he processed the information. There was no compassion left in the man.
“What the hell are you talking about?”
“Her boyfriend was with Max when he was killed. Nobody knows that.”
“She was dating Francis Millar?” the senator said angrily.
“Yes. You know?” she asked, sounding confused.
He gritted his teeth and said, “I do now.”
“He asked us to check on his sister. When we went to see if she was okay, some men took her away.” There was desperation in her voice. “I had to call Addy. He’s going to help.”
“You stupid bitch!” Maximillian Soller yelled. “Do you even know that man anymore?” His face turned to a scowl. “I’ll tell you the answer. You don’t!”
He put this information together with the news the FBI director had just given him, and he was sure his lifelong enemy was involved. The thought of the man targeting his children and then pulling the wool over his dipshit wife’s eyes enraged him.
She breathed in audibly. “You don’t understand—”
“No, you don’t understand.” He clenched his fist, and his f
ace reddened. “If you knew half of what I do about your would-be boyfriend, especially with what I was just told, you’d slit his throat yourself!”
“Did you hear me?” she said loudly so he couldn’t interrupt. “Some bastards took our daughter! All you can think about is your poor, jealous, deflated ego. You’re pathetic!”
“You wouldn’t know pathetic if it smacked you in the face, woman,” he yelled. His temper was beyond the point of no return. All he cared about now was getting in the last word. “Gullible as you are, you shouldn’t find it hard to believe that your Mr. Perfect has his hands in all of this. And I’ll tell you another thing, I’m going to take him down if it’s the last goddamn thing I do. Don’t you worry those sagging cheeks of yours: I’ll make sure the FBI knows what’s going on and acts accordingly.” He shook his head defiantly and spitefully ended the call by saying, “You two deserve each other.”
His breathing was heavy as he fought the urge to smash his phone against the wall, but he stopped short, knowing he would need it for his next call. He barely interacted with his children, but they were his, so the fact that Addy Simpson was using them to get back at him wasn’t terribly surprising. He resolved to make this their final battle, and he planned on winning. He punched the screen on his phone, and the man picked up on the first ring.
“Yeah,” FBI Director Culder answered.
“I want you to take him and his organization down.” His voice was seething with hate. “I don’t care what you have to do, but make sure you get it done.”
“I know, I’m working on it,” Culder said.
“Simpson and his goons have taken my daughter,” he said, the paranoia creeping into his voice, even more so than during their previous call.
“What are you talking about?”
“My bitch wife called, and our daughter’s been taken,” Soller spat. “The fucking bitch called him for help.”
“Any details on what happened?”
“No, but you can damn well be sure you’ll find her when you find Millar. No question about it. She told me my daughter was dating that bastard, and now that we know he’s on Simpson’s payroll…” There was a long pause as he considered the implications of the sighting at Dulles airport. “It’s not rocket science,” he said confidently. “He’s fucking with my life, and he’ll damn sure regret it.”