Searching Love_Saints Protection & Investigations

by Maryann Jordan

  Once more, the quiet of the morning in the woods was only broken by the dogs at play and the birds chirping overhead. Hearing all that about the Saints…it hit Nathan how exceptional each and every man was—which he already knew, of course. But the pride and admiration with which Blaise talked about them…how hard they worked to fit as a unit, how well they complimented one another...they were a family.

  He set his now empty coffee mug onto the wooden, plank porch and admitted, “My parents are simple people. I grew up on a farm down in southwest Virginia. Hard work, but we had good times. First dog I ever had was a coonhound an elderly neighbor was getting rid of. He had dementia, you see, so he wasn’t really able to keep up with her. She was old, but I swear I fell in love with that dog. Anyway, one day his son came tearin’ into our driveway needing the dog. Seems his dad had wandered off. My dad yelled for me to get the dog and we followed him back to his farm. I watched as that dog tracked the older man through the woods and we found him, safe and sound.” After another quiet moment, he confessed, “It was the greatest feeling in the world.”

  Shrugging, he continued, “I found out all I could about tracking. Got certified and, even as a teenager, started working with the local Sheriff’s Department. Joined the Army right out of high school, finished Military Police MOS, specializing in dog handling. Not for drugs or explosives, but for search and rescue. Planned on staying in for my full career.”

  “What happened?”

  Scrubbing his hand over his face, he heaved a sigh. “After four years, we were on a mission…me and five of my buddies and their dogs…at a village that was mostly rubble due to recent bombing by the insurgents. I was over near one of the walls when we were rocked with another explosion. The fuckin’ place was still wired. Lost ‘em all. All five men. All five dogs.”

  “Fuckin’ hell, Nathan,” Blaise said, shaking his head. “I’m sorry, man.”

  Nodding, his voice scratchy, he admitted, “Me too. My dog and I turned a search and rescue into a search and recovery. By the time our aid got there, we’d found all five. Gotta tell you, finding the bodies of your friends, one after another, is a fuck of a way to live.”

  Silence moved over them again, each to their own thoughts before Blaise prompted, “So, you got out.”

  “Yeah. I was done. I’d loved being in the Army but, after that, I had no desire to get that close to another group of friends. I had little time left anyway, so it was easier to just finish my time and leave.” Shrugging, he continued, “You’d think, after all that, I’d want to leave everything behind me, do something completely different, but, tracking is still in my blood. It’s all I know. The way I do it now, disappearing into the wilderness…it somehow just seems easier. I work alone. It feels safer that way.”

  That night, he lay in bed and, as usual, turned to stare at the stars through the windows. After explaining to Blaise what he had lost, they had turned the conversation to lighter topics. Now, in the quiet, he couldn’t help but think of what he had said. Alone. Safer. Instead of those words providing comfort, as they were meant to, he felt the continuing disquiet. Blaise spoke of the Saints like they were family...a brotherhood…could he be a part of something like that again? Did they even need him? Finally, rolling over, he punched his pillow, causing Scarlett to grunt in her sleep. At least one of us is sleeping.

  3

  The sun beamed high over the Blue Ridge Mountains as Nathan made his way to Jack’s property. Driving his old truck through the security gates after gaining access, he wound his way along the tree-lined driveway.

  Jack had built a huge home on his twenty-six acres that backed to the Blue Ridge Mountains. From the outside, the structure appeared to be a luxury cabin. But, underneath the house and four-car garage, was the command center of the Saints.

  Every time he made the trip to the Saints’ compound, he was impressed with the size. Parking next to the variety of trucks and SUVs parked along the drive, he alighted from his truck, glad to see that his was not the only old vehicle present.

  Seeing the white picket fence surrounding the back yard, he had to grin. Jack had once been concerned that he would not be able to offer his wife a white-picket-fence kind of life, but they had made their relationship work and the fence was a symbol of that—two worlds melding into one. They were one of the strongest couples he knew.

  As he approached the front door, Bethany, her dark blonde hair hanging in a braid over her shoulder, smiled widely as she greeted him.

  Nodding, he returned her smile, stepping inside. He had been in their house before, but this was the first time Jack had asked him over in an official capacity where he was not tasked for a search. Leaving Scarlett at home and coming alone felt odd.

  Before he had a chance to ask her where he should go, Jack entered the room, his hand out, and greeted him with a smile.

  “Nathan, glad you could make it on such short notice. Come on down.”

  He inwardly winced at the idea that Jack might think he was too busy to come. Though he was always active, it was on his own schedule—unless on a search—and he didn’t want Jack to think he did not care. Following to a door down the hall, his curiosity piqued as they descended a set of stairs. At the bottom, Jack turned and entered a code into the security panel on the wall before pushing through the door.

  Once inside, the door closed behind them with a resounding click. Stepping inside, a quick survey showed a large room with a conference table in the center. White screens lined two walls and another held a bank of computers. He recognized Luke and his wife, Charlie, sitting at the computers, both tossing grins his way.

  The other Saints sat at the table, with two empty chairs at one end. Jack held out his hand, motioning for him to sit. Sliding into one of the empty seats, he greeted the others, Cam, Marc, Nick, Patrick, Jude, Bart, Monty, Chad, and Blaise.

  “I’m sure you’re wondering why I asked you here,” Jack began.

  “Well, to be honest, I’m a little in awe of being in your compound.”

  “Aww, don’t worry,” Bart drawled. “He just figured if we got you here, then you’d have to join us.”

  The others chuckled and even stoic Jack grinned. Shaking his head, Jack continued, “Well, you know you always have a standing invitation to join the Saints. But, for today, I’ve got a special need for information you might have.”

  Nathan glanced around at the curious faces of the others and surmised they had been unaware of the reason for Jack’s request, with the exception of Nick and Blaise, whose faces were hard. Turning his attention to Jack, he nodded.

  “Two years ago, you helped us locate Nick’s wife, Bayley, and another woman, Agnes Gruzinsky.”

  His attention was immediately riveted. He was concerned that Bayley, who was Blaise’s sister and had married Nick after their ordeal, was involved but, if he were being honest with himself, it was the mention of Agnes, the woman that had remained in his mind for so long, that had him hyper-focused now.

  Nick took over, saying, “I was initially with the FBI on that case. Missing women were tied to the Gruzinsky crime family who, as it turns out, were involved in human trafficking and kidnapping women to use as sex slaves. Add in their family connections to the Russian mafia through Gavrill Volkov, and it was a high-profile case. It was suspected that he arranged the transportation of women overseas, but it was never proven.”

  “Jesus,” he breathed, shaking his head at the scope of the crimes.

  Blaise added, “If you remember, my goof of a sister ended up gaining the attention of Lazlo Grunzinsky and his sister, Agnes. That’s how she met Nick.”

  “It turned out that Agnes was secretly working with the FBI to bring down her family,” Nick continued.

  He nodded his head, remembering the basics of the case, as Jack summarised, “We debriefed after that night and the case was closed for us. The trafficking business was shut down and the rescued women were all safe. The FBI had enough evidence to put the Gruzinsky family behind bars. Agn
es was taken to Harlan Masten, her contact at the FBI, so that she could testify against her family and go into WITSEC. That was the end of our involvement with the case and we did not continue to monitor.”

  A sick feeling in the pit of his stomach began, but he forced his attention to stay on Jack’s words.

  “It turned out that Agnes was not needed to testify against her family because the FBI had more than enough evidence to obtain convictions. But Harlan, not wanting her to be in danger from the Russian mafia, took her under his wing. He arranged for her to have a new identity.”

  Clearly this was news to a lot of them and Nathan noticed the rapt attention growing around the room as Jack added, “I’ve received word from both the FBI and a request from the Governor to look into the case again. Agnes’ FBI contact, Harlan, was murdered three days ago.”

  The room was filled with oh, shit and fuckin’ hell as the majority of the Saints reacted to the news of the murder.

  Nick sighed, adding, “I heard about it from some friends still at the agency who knew I had been close with Harlan. I was upset, naturally. Harlan was a good agent…a good man. But, it wasn’t until Jack came to me late yesterday, needing to talk to Bayley, that I knew there was a connection.”

  “The reason I had Nick bring Bayley in yesterday was because I needed to know what she and Agnes may have talked about before you found them.”

  “What’d Bayley say?” Monty asked, his voice a bit choked. The former FBI agent had also known Harlan and the news was clearly hitting him hard.

  “She said that Agnes told her that she hated growing up in the family once she realized what they did. She felt powerless for a long time, then slowly came up with a plan. She contacted the FBI and had been working with them for a little while before everything went down. We knew all this, but at least Bayley was able to fill in some of the emotional details.”

  “Fuckin’ brave as shit,” Cam breathed under his breath. The large, dark haired man had grown up in gangs and, once out, had become a police officer and then undercover detective. If anyone could relate, in any way, to what she had gone through it would be him.

  “There’s still a threat against her?” Nathan asked, hating the thought of the slight woman, sharing the stars with him that night as though she were seeing them for the first time, being in danger.

  Bart leaned forward, placing his muscular forearms on the table, his face intense. “When we were working a case involving kidnapping a child from a prominent Russian family, I had to interview people who would take over this family’s business if they had the chance. One of the people I came across was Gavrill Volkov. Turns out, his cousin is Chessa Gruzinsky, Agnes’ mom.”

  “Fuckin’ hell,” Jude growled under his breath.

  Nathan looked at the others, seeing the same frustration on their faces as he felt, processing the new information. This was quickly adding up to serious trouble.

  “He’s in prison, but believe me, he still runs his family from the inside. And, he’s got a cushy sentence…tax evasion,” Jack said.

  “You gotta be shittin’ me,” Cam said. “I thought that piece of dirt’s operation out of Norfolk was the one shipping the kidnapped women to places overseas.”

  “The Gruzinsky’s clammed up at their trials and pleaded guilty so they didn’t have to testify against each other. Plus, they knew if they turned on Gavrill, their time behind bars would be made hell up until the moment they bled out on the floor somewhere,” Nick growled.

  “So, while we’re certain human trafficking is one of the Volkov family businesses,” Jack said, maintaining his composure in an increasingly agitated room, “there was no proof and no one to testify against him.”

  “What about Agnes?” Patrick asked.

  “She had no proof, according to Harlan, since she never talked directly to Gavrill. She only knew what her family told her and they wouldn’t talk after they were arrested.”

  “So, they got him on tax evasion? Why didn’t we hear about this sooner?” Marc asked, pushing his chair back in frustration.

  “Our job was done. There was nothing more for us to do,” Jack stated quietly, but firmly, catching Marc’s eye.

  Nathan watched as Marc held Jack’s gaze, taking a deep breath before giving one quick nod to signify he understood. Jack swept the room with his eyes, his gaze landing and holding briefly on each of the Saints to check in with them. With that one, silent gesture the tension started to release from the air.

  Clearing his throat, Nick replied, “The FBI had proof that he had money going into the Gruzinsky’s hotel business—the legitimate one. Since it was being run alongside the illegal one, and they’d want to keep that one hushed up, an oversight meant he never declared any of the return on his legal investments.”

  “Sounds like a stupid mistake on his accountant’s part,” Patrick commented.

  Nick agreed, saying, “Seems that the accountant was found dead a week after Gavrill’s trial.”

  “Jesus,” Nathan said under his breath.

  Shaking his head, Bart surmised, “And Agnes has now cost him plenty.”

  “Oh, yeah…not only his business, but possibly a longer sentence for him, as well as putting her entire family behind bars.”

  “And Agnes?” Monty asked. “She still protected by the FBI?”

  “I’ve been in contact with the FBI,” Jack explained, “and here’s the problem. Agnes Gruzinsky has not been on the FBI’s radar. She was not needed for the trial so was no longer a person of interest to them. She essentially disappeared and, as a private citizen, that was not their worry. However, Harlan just retired and his murder points to the Russians, so now she’s on their radar again. The FBI is working that angle since they found prints from Johan, one of Gavrill’s enforcers, at the scene. Also, Gavrill’s brother, Yurgi, is believed to be here in the states now, running Gavrill’s businesses. Harlan’s murder could be tied into them searching for Agnes…for revenge.”

  Looking around the room, Jack shook his head as he continued, “Harlan wasn’t just murdered. His house was trashed and his computer was stolen. Now, of course, he had no official FBI documentations at his house, but he would have probably kept all the information and notes on Agnes. According to our contact at the FBI, the murder looks like he interrupted someone doing a search. He fought hard but, in the end, was killed. Executed…hands tied behind his back…shot in the back of the head.”

  “So, you think the Russian mafia is still after Agnes,” Nathan stated, the sick feeling in the pit of his stomach now reaching his heart. Not fully understanding why the news was hitting him so hard, he focused on steadying his pounding heartbeat.

  “That’s what our main concern is. And, what we’ve been tasked with. Finding Agnes Grunzinsky…before they do—”

  “I’m in.”

  All eyes around the table jumped to him, but he kept his gaze firmly on Jack’s face.

  Jack’s eyes narrowed slightly as he stared back. “Nathan, I’ve made it no secret that I would like to have you join us on a full time basis, but I called you here to find out anything specific that Agnes may have said to you that night…not to pressure you to join us.”

  “I realize that,” he replied, his voice surprisingly sure and steady. Glancing quickly at Blaise before returning his attention to Jack, he confessed, “To be honest, I’ve been thinking about going full time with you. I always turned you down because my simple life seemed…uh…well, simple.” Grimacing at the stupid way his words sounded, he forged ahead. “I mean, that was what I wanted. Just me, the dogs I raise, and the tracking business.”

  “Nothing wrong with that,” Blaise said, staring at him.

  “I know,” he agreed, shooting his friend a grateful nod. “But I’ve come to realize that I’ve mostly been hiding. The idea of working with, and then possibly losing, good friends kept me to myself.” Shrugging, he said, “I’ve been disquiet lately. Wanting more. Needing more.” He pierced Jack with his sincere stare and added, “B
een thinking about this, thought if the right time came along I’d know it. Now is that time.”

  Jack slowly nodded, seeming to appraise his words before saying, “I’ve never known you to be impulsive.”

  Pulling himself out of his comfort zone, he admitted, “I’ve thought a lot about Agnes over the past two years. Something about her was so vulnerable and yet, strong, at the same time. I didn’t know her story when we were out in the woods that night, but I respected what she was doing. If she’s in danger… she didn’t let anything hold her back from doing what’s right. I don’t want to hold back anymore either.”

  “Tell you what,” Jack said. “I want you but, like all the Saints did, you give us a try and then you can decide if this is what you want as a career. If it isn’t, we’ll still use you as a tracker when needed. If it is, then you’ll have already learned the security business and you can continue as a Saint.”

  His breath left him in a rush as he nodded, the pain in his chest lifting slightly. “Sounds good.”

  Jack grinned, “All right. Let’s get to work. Tell us what she talked about that night.”

  He had only been in her presence for less than an hour, but had replayed the event in his mind so many times, he was easily able to recite their conversation. Repeating it for the Saints, he concluded with her quote from Agatha Christie. Looking at Nick, he smiled, saying, “She said it was from Bayley.”

  Nick rolled his eyes and nodded, shooting Blaise a slight smile. “Yeah, Bayley adores Agatha Christie and has memorized so many quotes from her and her books. She manages to find just the right time to use them in her life.”

  Blaise shook his head. “She’s done that since she first started reading mysteries. Agatha Christie has always been her favorite.”

  “Well, it made an impression on Agnes and, in turn, made an impression on me. I actually looked it up online when I got home and printed it out.” Shaking his head slightly, he couldn’t help but smile a little as he thought of how Agnes looked reciting the words. “She quoted, ‘I’ve had a long life of experience in noticing evil, fancying evil, suspecting evil and going forth to do battle with evil.’ She then sighed and said, ‘I’ve got to see this through. Or else evil wins.’ I kid you not, it was as though the weight of the world was on her shoulders.” Looking at the others, he said, with poorly veiled awe in his voice, “If she can be that brave, how can I be less?”