by L. T. Ryan
She gave Jack a wink. Said, “Good thinking.”
Jack waited for the second name. He realized that the job was coming back to him. Bits and pieces. Slowly but surely. It had been eight years since he last associated himself with the SIS. He felt as though he had refined his skills in those eight years working for himself. Maybe this was the job for him. Of all the agencies, the SIS had the least to do with government bureaucracy.
“The owner on the truck,” she paused. “Kenneth Quioness.” She turned and looked at Jack. “OK. Jack, you got that?”
“Spell the last name,” Jack said.
“Frank, how do you spell that last name?” She repeated the spelling out loud. “Got it, Jack?”
Jack scribbled the name down. He said, “Yeah, I got it. What else do we know about him?”
Jasmine asked Frank. A moment later they had his date of birth, place of employment and his home address.
“Alright,” Jack said. “I think we should visit Kenny this afternoon.”
8
Bear and Detective Larsen sat in a parked car on a stretch of highway between two small bridges. They waited for the man who Larsen had finally identified to Bear as Curtis Hale.
They had arranged a plan with Curtis. He was to report to work this morning. He’d find a way to check on Mandy. After he confirmed the girl was alive and OK, he would inform his supervisor that he needed to go to the store for some basic household items. Instead of driving south into town, he would go north on highway 14 and meet Bear and Larsen to deliver the update.
“You think he’s gonna show?” Bear asked.
Larsen shrugged. “Your guess is as good as mine. Can you blame him if he doesn’t?”
“Nah. The way I see it, he knows he’s a dead man. He gets caught, they’ll kill him. He doesn’t do what we want, I’ll kill him.”
Larsen shook his head. “Don’t tell me things like that. I took an oath, you know.”
Bear laughed. He couldn’t imagine Larsen trying to haul him into the police station. Especially not with how entrenched the detective had become in the outcome of this situation. Besides, he had already said half the department was on the take. Suspicion raised in Bear’s mind. Maybe Larsen himself was in that half that supported the Russian. He decided he’d have to find a way to test his new associate.
“I think that’s him,” Larsen said as he pointed toward an oncoming car.
Bear got out of the car and stood at the rear of the vehicle.
The car slowed down, and pulled over, and parked in front of them. Grill to grill.
Bear waited for Larsen to initiate contact with the man and then he stepped forward. He said, “How is she?”
Curtis Hale looked between Bear and the detective. Then he looked down at the ground.
“I—I couldn’t get in to see her.”
“What do you mean?” Bear did his best to reign in his temper.
“They have a guard near her door. I tried. You know, I brought her a snack but…”
Bear placed his hands on his hips. Turned toward Larsen.
“Why would they have a guard at her door?”
Larsen thought about it for a moment and then hiked his shoulders in the air. “Not sure.”
“I saw her though,” Curtis said.
“How’d she look?” Bear asked.
“Fine. Scared. She smiled at me when I made eye contact with her, though. So, she must not be too scared, I guess.”
“She’s been through this before,” Bear said.
Curtis shook his head and held out his hands.
“I’m not asking. I’m telling you. She’s been through this before.”
Larsen spoke next. “We have the supplies in the trunk.” He led Curtis to the rear of the car to grab two paper shopping bags full of items.
Bear remained at the front of the car. He didn’t get the exact information he wanted. He was happy to know that Mandy was alive, though. He had to find a way to reach her. The thought of her being inside that house with a terrorist ate at him. He reached into his pocket and pulled out a camera. He stopped Curtis on his way back to his vehicle.
“This is what you are going to do,” Bear said. “You take this camera and you get me photos of the outside of the house. The street, the driveway, the front and back of the house. You get me pictures of the inside. When you step inside. The path you take to Mandy’s room. The kitchen, the garage, even the bathrooms. I want it all on this camera. We’ll come to you tonight.”
Larsen lifted his hand and opened his mouth to speak. Bear shot him a look and Larsen backed down. Nothing was going to stop the big man from getting his girl back.
“Do you understand?” Bear said.
“Yeah,” Curtis said as he took the camera from Bear’s outstretched hand. “I got it. I’ll get that for you. As much as I can.”
“All of it,” Bear said.
Curtis nodded and got inside his car. He started the engine and backed up twenty feet and then made a U-turn onto the road.
After the car disappeared from sight, Larsen turned to Bear and said, “It’s good to know she’s alive.”
Bear said nothing. He stared into the woods that blocked the view of the lake.
“We’ll get her back, Bear.”
“We can’t wait much longer.”
“I,” Larsen paused a beat. “I’ll do everything I can to help you.”
“Why?” Bear asked. “Why are you risking your neck like this?”
“It’s personal.”
Bear thought for a minute on how to respond to this. After all, Larsen had interjected himself into one of the most personal situations in Bear’s life. What could be so bad that he would hold out now? That he didn’t want Bear to know about?”
“What is it?” Bear asked.
Larsen turned around and headed back to the car without responding.
Bear rejoined him in the car. He didn’t press the issue. The detective would talk when he felt like talking.
“I want to see the house,” Bear said.
Larsen shook his head. He pulled onto the road. Did twenty over the speed limit all the way to town. He stopped a block from City Hall. Said to Bear, “Get out here.”
Bear opened his door and dropped his size fifteen onto the street.
“Come by around six. OK, Larsen?”
The detective nodded and pulled away. Bear looked around for something to do. Found nothing. He walked home and took a nap.
9
“What the hell are you doing in there?” Randy called from the room.
Clarissa rolled her eyes and didn’t respond. She returned her attention to the mirror and the dye in her hair. Another ten minutes, then she could rinse it out. She had already placed the contact lenses in her eyes. The lenses turned her eyes from blue to dark brown. Quite a change in and of itself. She was curious to see what she would look like when she rinsed the dye out of her hair and eyebrows. Her dark red hair would be dark brown.
Randy pounded on the door and yelled something unintelligible.
“What?” she said. “I’ll be done when I’m done. Go away.”
She had picked out fifteen items lying around the room and bathroom that she could kill him with. If he were any other man she might have done it by now. But she knew that she’d have to get one hell of a drop on Randy to take him out. He was ruthless. A psychopath, in fact. He was the only member of Sinclair’s team that routinely worked alone. And it was easy to see why.
He knocked on the door and yelled again.
Clarissa didn’t respond. She heard him walk away and flop on the bed. What the hell was the rush? Was something predetermined? Had it all been a lie and he was taking her somewhere else?
She pushed the questions from her mind and turned on the water. Leaned over the sink and started to rinse a section of her hair. She wanted to double check and make sure it had changed colors before stepping into the shower to rinse out the remaining dye.
She grabbed a towel and bl
otted the section of hair. Satisfied with the transformation, she turned on the shower and slipped out of her robe. Before stepping into the stand-up shower stall, she made sure that the bathroom door was locked. She wasn’t afraid of Randy doing something to her, but she wouldn’t put it past him to try and sneak-a-peek at her.
She finished her shower and dried off. She searched through drawers under the sink until she found a hair dryer. Working from memory, she styled her hair like the woman in the picture. The transformation was complete. The transformation was amazing. Clarissa stared at herself in the mirror, but it was as if she stared at someone else entirely.
She dressed and put on minimal make-up. Walked out of the bathroom and over to the round table at the far end of the room. There, she took a seat and opened the documents Sinclair had given her.
Randy sat up and said, “Well, look at what we got here. You look halfway decent now.”
Clarissa ignored him and said nothing.
“I think I’d consider hitting that,” Randy said.
Clarissa looked up and laughed. “Even if I…” She waved him off and returned to the documents.
“Yeah, whatever,” Randy said. He stood and pulled his greasy hair back into a pony tail. “Finish up. It’s about time to get you on your way.”
“Where are we going?”
“The airport.”
“What’s the plan?”
“You’re gonna walk in, and then you’re gonna walk out a bit later.”
Clarissa placed her palms on the table and pushed herself up. She pulled back the blinds and scanned the parking lot. Habit more than anything else.
“What if they are watching the airport? Won’t it look odd if I walk in and walk back out?”
Randy walked over to the closet and grabbed a bag. Tossed it on the bed.
“Put those on. Pull your hair up under the ball cap.”
Clarissa rolled across her bed and stood in the small aisle between the two queen beds. She picked up the bag and dropped its contents onto the blue comforter. She sorted through the clothes. A pair of jeans with torn knees. A gray t-shirt with the American flag on it. A pair of Chuck’s that looked fifteen years old. And a plain dark blue baseball cap.
She said, “You shouldn’t have.”
“Least I could do. Only cost me eight bucks at Goodwill. Don’t worry about paying me back unless, you know, you want to do it sexually.”
She rolled her eyes and lifted the left side of her mouth in a smile that said “Go screw yourself, Jackwagon.” She grabbed the clothes and returned to the bathroom. She shook the clothes out. Nothing fell out, but that didn’t ease her mind about their condition.
She stepped out of the bathroom looking like a scarecrow. She belonged in a cornfield, not a hotel room. She tucked her hair under the hat and walked over to the table. Her files were missing.
She asked, “Where’d everything go?”
“Sinclair’s orders. You won’t need that stuff. In fact, if you had documents on this Enya chick you’re supposed to be —”
“Anastasiya.”
Randy threw his hands up in the air and said, “Whatever, like I care. Anyways, you roll in there with those docs, you’re dead. Now, it makes no difference to me. But Sinclair seems to think that you’re our best option for this operation. You succeed and everything’s cool, right. You fail and, well, that’s when I get some action.”
Clarissa said nothing. She put her clothes into the empty bag and left the room. Randy followed her out and met her at the elevator lobby.
“What about luggage?” she said.
Randy shrugged.
“I should have luggage, shouldn’t I? They’d be expecting that.”
“For Christ’s sake, Clarissa. Yeah, we got your luggage in the car. Don’t worry. Sinclair arranged everything.”
A ding sounded and the elevator doors opened. They stepped in. Randy continued complaining. “I can’t wait to get back to friggin’ Minnesota. Away from you.”
Clarissa tuned him out. She started to step through the next few hours in her mind. They’d get to the airport and she’d get away from Randy. Hopefully it would be the last she’d see of him, unless she was ordered to put a bullet in his head. How fun that would be. She smiled.
Randy noticed. “What?”
She shook her head and shrugged. They reached the lobby, and she left the elevator and crossed the room. She waited outside for at least thirty seconds before Randy made his way out of the hotel.
“There,” he said, pointing toward a silver SUV. It wasn’t the same vehicle they used the previous night.
It took twenty minutes to reach the airport. They didn’t talk during the drive. They didn’t talk when Randy stopped at the curb and let Clarissa out. She hoped she’d never have to talk to him again.
She hopped out and opened the rear passenger door and grabbed the bag with her clothes and her luggage. Then she closed the door and didn’t look back as Randy and the SUV pulled away.
The airport was like any other medium-sized International airport. People milled about on the walkway. Some smoking, some talking, others waiting for their ride. A few cars idled along the curb. One of them might be full of Russians, and with that thought, Clarissa entered the airport. She saw a sign for restrooms. Made her way to the lady’s room.
Five minutes later she stood in front of a mirror in fresh clothes. At her feet was her new luggage. The ragged clothes she wore into the airport were now in the trashcan. Her hair was a disheveled mess after being tucked up under a ball cap for close to an hour. She pulled a brush out of her bag and worked through the tangles. After dealing with her hair, Clarissa applied more make up than she would normally wear. Just in case she had been spotted on the way in.
She took a step back and looked at herself.
If only Jack could see me now.
Clarissa checked her watch. It was time. She smiled at her reflection and grabbed her luggage and left the bathroom.
The short walk from the restroom to the exit took no more than thirty seconds. The warm air that had been beaten back by her jeans now felt cool as it slipped between her bare legs and under her dress. She stopped just outside the door. Closed her eyes and breathed in deeply. The air smelled like gasoline fumes and burned out cigarette butts. She didn’t care.
“Anastasiya.”
She opened her eyes. A stocky balding man made his way toward her. She smiled and nodded. She remembered him from the file. Said, “Akim. So good to see you.”
He spoke in Russian. “We were getting worried. You should have been out here twenty minutes ago.”
She replied in Russian, “I was hungry.”
Akim smiled and gave her a pat on the back. He reached out and took her luggage.
She wished she had inspected the bags further.
He led her to a red two-door Nissan and opened the passenger door. He pulled the seat forward and then tossed her luggage in the back seat. After returning the seat back to its normal position, he gestured her inside the car.
Clarissa slipped inside and buckled up.
“How was your flight?” Akim asked as he closed his door and put the car into first gear.
“Eh, a flight is a flight.”
Akim nodded. They merged onto the highway and headed east. After a few minutes he spoke.
“Boris is excited for you to be here. We have the plans and are setting things in motion. Exciting times, Anastasiya.”
“Indeed.”
10
“That’s the place.”
Jasmine pointed at a small brick house with a brown door and matching window shutters. She drove another block and parked the car.
“What a dump,” Jack said.
“East Marietta.”
Jack looked around at the desolate area. The houses were small and poorly constructed. The lawns were brown. Not uncommon for that time of year. But he could tell that many of them were not cared for during any season.
He said, “I never
spent much time down here, so that means little to me.”
Jasmine smiled, her eyes focused on nothing in particular. “I was raised near here.”
Jack decided to change the subject. “There’s an Air Force base nearby, isn’t there?”
“Yeah. Dobbins. Not too far away.” She grabbed her door handle and pulled on it. “You ever stationed there?”
“I was in the Marines.”
“That means no?”
Jack didn’t respond. He got out of the car and started walking toward Kenneth Quioness’s house. The house was small. Jack estimated it at less than one thousand square feet.
“Driveway’s empty.”
“No garage.”
“No one home.”
“We should knock first, Jack.”
Jack shrugged. He crossed the dead lawn and knocked on the battered door. Chips of brown paint hung from the door and vibrated as his knuckles pounded against the wood. They waited a minute and no one answered. Jack placed his ear to the door and listened. All quiet. He nodded toward a window.
He said, “Take a look in there.”
Jasmine scanned the area and then peeked through the window. “It’s a mess. But it looks empty. Like nobody’s home”
Jack grabbed the door handle. To his surprise it was unlocked. He turned the knob and pushed the door open. He let Jasmine walk through first and then followed. He held his Glock in his hand and kept it aimed in front of him.
“I’m gonna check the back,” Jack said. “You stay in here.”
She nodded.
“Stay alert,” Jack added.
He walked down a dark hall. There were three doors. Two on either side and one at the end. He figured the one at the end was to a bathroom. Opened that door first, slowly and cautiously. It was a bathroom, and it was empty. He pulled back the shower curtain just to make sure. He left the room and closed the door. Next he opened the door to his right. The room was bare. Just some trash on the floor in one corner. The room had a lingering smell that Jack associated with marijuana.
He checked the closet and found it to be empty. He wondered if Kenneth might have grown pot in the room at one time.