Critical Play (Michael Cailen Book 3)

by Mel LeBrun

  “I know Mommy is not feeling well, but she is going to be OK. She just needs lots of rest,” he tried to reason.

  “She can't rest in the car. She just keeps throwing up.”

  Michael closed his eyes as he felt the weight of his guilt crushing him. “I know. I'm sorry. I love you, Ana.”

  “I love you too, Daddy. I want you to come home.”

  “I will, baby. Soon. You have to be strong for just a little while longer. I'll be back before you know it.”

  “But I want you now.”

  “I'm sorry, Ana. I know you do. I want to see you too.” He listened as Tatiana quietly sobbed into the phone thinking there couldn’t be a worse thing he would ever have to endure. “Can you put Mommy back on the phone now?”

  “I'm sorry, Michael,” Jessica said.

  “You have nothing to apologize for.”

  “She just misses you.”

  “I know how she feels. I miss you both. How is your morning sickness?”

  “Driving doesn't help. But Dmitri keeps forcing water and crackers down my throat. If I get real bad, he'll probably just give me another IV.”

  “Another IV?”

  “I was in bad shape when I reached my father's.”

  Michael took a deep breath. None of this should be happening. Jessica should be home resting and he should be there taking care of her. A growing part of him regretted trying to help Dmitri.

  “Can I talk to Dmitri?”

  “Sure, here he is.” She handed the phone to Dmitri.

  “Hi, Michael,” Dmitri greeted him.

  “What's your status?”

  “We're nine hours from Toronto. Not much more to report.”

  “What happened?”

  “All I know is heavily armed men attacked Jeff's home. They weren't taking prisoners.”

  “What happened to Jeff? Who set the house on fire?”

  “Hmpf.” Dmitri didn't give a reply.

  “You didn't know?”

  “No.”

  “So Jess doesn't know?”

  “No. I would keep it that way if you can.”

  “She's been emotional?” Michael asked, though it wasn't a question he should have even needed to ask.

  “That would be putting it lightly.”

  “Her emotions about her father are complicated,” Michael stated.

  “Yeah, I noticed that. Look, Michael, I'm sorry. This is all my fault.”

  “Dmitri, I wanted to help. I still do,” Michael cut him off.

  “You sure about that?”

  Michael sighed. “We have Grekov on tape all but admitting to arranging the sale of the nuke. We're trying to track down his partner.”

  “Wish I could help you,” Dmitri lamented.

  “Take care of my family. Right now, that's the best help you can give me.”

  “I'll do everything in my power to keep them safe, Michael.”

  “I know you will.”

  “Michael, does anyone know how they found us?” The question had been burning a hole in Dmitri's brain ever since Corvo called.

  “Yeah, we know. But I think you should keep it from Jess as long as you can.”

  “Understood.”

  “The mercenaries Grekov hired kidnapped Jinx. They tortured her until she gave you up. She didn't know Jess and Ana were there too. After they got what they wanted from her, they left her to die. We barely found her in time.”

  Dmitri took a deep breath but said nothing. He felt responsible for what happened to Jinx and they weight of his guilt was beginning to take its toll.

  “There's enough blame to go around, Dmitri. Leave most of it where it belongs. On Grekov and his partner.”

  “Easier said than done,” Dmitri replied.

  “I know. But you're tougher than you look. You can do it.”

  Dmitri smirked at Michael's backhanded flattery. “That's the Michael I remember.”

  “You're going to be OK, Dmitri. Can I talk to Jess again before I go?”

  “Of course.” Dmitri handed her back the phone.

  “Hey,” she greeted him again.

  “Hi, sweetheart. I don't know how much longer I'll be but we're making progress.”

  “I'm glad. We're safe. Lance and Tim are helping. Don't worry about us.”

  “I love you so much, Jess. You don't know how good it is to hear your voice.”

  “I've been desperate to hear your voice too, Michael. I love you to pieces.”

  “We'll be together soon. Give Tatiana a hug for me.”

  “I will. Be safe.”

  Jessica hung up the phone and handed it back to Dmitri. “What did he say about how they found us?”

  “They're still looking into it. But they're certain it wasn't Gatti or Corvo. So that's good,” he replied calmly.

  “See. I told you it wasn't anyone we know,” she remarked, feeling vindicated.

  Dmitri smiled and nodded. “I know. You told me.”

  Chapter 31

  Grekov had been in a state of panic since his meeting with “Hamza Amer”. Not only did he have an unstable terrorist group demanding a nuke, but he had no idea how they learned of his part in the sale to the Syrians. He was supposed to have been completely insulated, above reproach. Yet somehow Hamza Amer knew. Grekov was not only afraid of getting caught by the authorities, but also of being killed by the terrorists. After many agonizing hours, Grekov's partner finally called with information about Hamza Amer.

  “What did you learn?” Grekov asked.

  “Hamza Amer is a Lebanese national with ties to Al Qaeda. He is believed to be part of a cell based in Turkey that is led by an Abdul Faheem. From what I can tell, these are men with very deep roots in extremist activities and beliefs.”

  “What am I supposed to do? They expect me to sell them a nuclear weapon! I can't take that risk! Once was too much already!”

  “I agree with you.”

  “Well, what am I supposed to do?”

  “I don't know. I guess you'll have to figure something out.”

  “I'm not dealing with this on my own,” Grekov said indignantly. “This is as much your problem as it is mine.”

  “As I told you before, Sergey, once the sale is finished, that is where our relationship ends. I did you a favor by even looking into this.”

  “Someone on your end leaked information that led them to my door!” Grekov shouted. “How dare you say you're doing me a favor!”

  “No one on my end talked,” the man calmly replied. “Anyone who had anything to do with the sale is dead. You are the only one still breathing.”

  “Are you threatening me?”

  “I'm merely stating a fact. Whatever leak there was, it came from you. And I won't be roped in to cleaning up your mess.”

  “My mess? My mess?! This is as much your mess as it is mine. I won't go down alone for this! You will help me or I swear to God you will live to regret it.”

  The line was silent for an awkward amount of time while Grekov angrily paced and huffed.

  “Meet me at the train yard in Ochakovo in an hour,” the man said before hanging up the phone.

  Michael, who had been listening to the conversation, turned to David and grinned. “Looks like we'll get to meet the mystery man.”

  Michael, along with David's team, followed at a distance as Grekov drove to the train yard to meet with his partner. Armed with cameras and surveillance equipment they were ready to get the two men on tape and camera as they discussed how to handle Hamza. They would finally be able to identify the man on the other end of the phone.

  They parked and watched as Grekov drove to a secluded area of the lot. It was likely not his first time being there as he seemed to know exactly where to go. They sat waiting along with Grekov for his partner to show. After fifteen minutes, Grekov became impatient. He stepped out of his car to pace as he dialed on his phone. It rang and rang but no one answered.

  “Something’s not right,” Michael said out loud.

  Jus
t as the words left his lips, Grekov's chest exploded and he fell to the ground dead. A sniper who had been waiting patiently had finally been able to take his shot and he didn't miss. Michael was stunned but a few seconds later his training kicked in and he immediately scanned the horizon searching for where the shot had come from. Having accomplished his mission, the sniper was likely already packed and making his exit.

  David was on the radio asking if any of his men saw where the shot came from. No one had.

  “We should leave,” Michael suggested.

  David wholeheartedly agreed and ordered his men back to the apartment to regroup.

  “Whoever was working with Grekov is obviously confident none of this will point back to him,” Michael stated.

  “That's bad for us,” David said.

  “That's for sure,” Michael agreed. Their hope of learning the identity of Grekov's partner was shattered. Even with Grekov's confession on tape, they were back at square one. They tapes only proved Grekov's involvement, not Dmitri's innocence. They needed to find everyone involved.

  When they returned to the apartment, David called in to his superiors to update them on the situation.

  “Has Cailen made any calls recently?” David's boss asked.

  “Why are you asking?” David tried not to answer.

  “I'll take that as a yes. Cailen is not working for the CIA or any agency for that matter. Why is he involved?”

  “I told you that already.”

  “Right, he's friends with the men who facilitated the sale. On what exactly do you base your belief that Cailen himself is not involved?”

  “You confirmed his whereabouts when the sale took place. You know he's not involved.”

  “Just because he wasn't there, doesn't mean he wasn't involved.”

  “Let's not get paranoid,” David retorted.

  “Well it seems a little coincidental that Michael makes a phone call back home and hours later Grekov, our only lead, is dead.”

  “Michael had nothing to do with that. More likely Grekov pushed his partner too hard. Grekov all but threatened to expose him if he didn't help. Grekov made himself a liability.”

  “That's possible. Until we know more, I want you and your team to stay put. We'll discuss the situation over here and get back to you with how we're going to proceed.”

  “Yes, sir.” David hung up the phone knowing all too well what was going to happen next. They would send a team to take Michael in to be interrogated in order to find out what he knew. Knowing David and Michael had a history, they were trying to keep David in the dark.

  David found Michael sitting in one of the empty rooms trying to wrap his head around their predicament. He sat next to him.

  “With our leads drying up, I'm afraid there isn't much we can do,” David said. “If you decided you didn't want to hang around anymore, I would understand.”

  “You cutting me loose?” Michael asked, sounding surprised.

  David looked Michael right in the eyes. “No.”

  The word itself was meaningless. It was the look and tone David used that told Michael all he needed to know. David was giving him fair warning that things were about to change. Michael remained silent as the reality of that sunk in. “Could I listen to the conversations Grekov had with his partner?” he finally asked.

  “I copied all the relevant conversations onto a flash drive,” David replied. “It's in the laptop.”

  Michael nodded. At least David wasn't sending him away empty-handed. This new development, however, was just one of many that were not to his advantage. One by one the world seemed to be stacking against him.

  “Would it be all right if I stayed one more night?” Michael asked.

  “Stay as long as you want, Michael.” The emptiness in his offer echoed like the Grand Canyon making it clear David wanted him to leave as soon as possible.

  “You taking first watch tonight?” Michael asked.

  “I thought I would, yes.”

  “OK. Sounds good.” Michael smiled.

  A halfhearted smile graced David's lips before he turned and left the room. Michael took a deep breath as the thought of being completely on his own began to weigh on him. His hopes of catching Grekov's partner were fading as were his hopes of clearing Dmitri. He wasn't confident David would complete what he had started. He wondered if all his efforts to save Dmitri were in vain and if he had put himself and his family at risk for nothing. He wanted to scream but couldn't.

  AS NIGHT fell, David told his men to get some sleep, including Michael. Close to 1:00 a.m., while everyone else was still sleeping, Michael met up with David in the kitchen. David took a deep breath and smiled nervously.

  “It was good seeing you again,” Michael said.

  “Same here,” David agreed.

  Michael reached down and picked up the flash drive that was next to the laptop. The one David said had Grekov's conversations with his partner. He held it in his hand and looked up at David. “Thank you.”

  “You do know you're stealing that?” David said.

  Michael grinned. “Who but you knows about it?”

  David chuckled and shook his head. “No one.”

  “That's what I thought.” Michael's smile slowly faded. “So what am I looking at?”

  “They want you alive,” David answered.

  Michael nodded. “Am I considered hostile?”

  “No. But ...”

  “Yeah. I know. Once I leave here, I will be.” Michael took a deep breath as he resigned himself to his fate. “What's their interest in me?”

  “They think you know where Kirsanov is and they think you may be talking with him.”

  “What do you think?” Michael asked.

  David smirked. “I know you're talking with him, Michael. And you probably know exactly where he is.”

  “Huh,” was all Michael could respond. He had underestimated David, and Mossad for that matter.

  “You're loyal to a fault, Michael.”

  “You're not exactly one who can throw stones.”

  “True,” David agreed. “They also think Kirsanov or his friends had something to do with Grekov's death.”

  “That's ridiculous. They're in hiding. How could they possibly have orchestrated that?”

  “I believe that's what my superiors would like to ask you,” David replied.

  Michael was frustrated.

  David continued, “Look, Michael. I know you believe your friend is innocent. But is it even a little possible that one of the other men he is running with could be involved?”

  “Dmitri trusts them.”

  “But do you? How well do you know them?”

  Michael shook his head. “They're not involved. Grekov's partner never even showed. He had no intention of showing. He's the one we're after.”

  “I worry about you, Michael. Perhaps you've become too trusting in addition to going soft.”

  “I should go,” Michael said, wanting to wrap it up and get on his way before more Mossad showed. “Thank you for all your help.”

  “Take care of yourself, Michael.”

  “You too, David.”

  Michael left the apartment and destroyed the phone he had been using. He called Gatti after picking up a new one.

  “Michael, what's the latest?” Gatti asked.

  “Well I made it to Mossad's shit list.”

  “What? What happened?”

  “Grekov is dead. They think I had something to do with it.”

  “What?! Why in the world do they think that?”

  “It'll take too long to explain. I need some help. I have a flash drive with the recordings from Grekov's conversations with his partner. We need to identify him. Do you have any agents in Moscow?”

  “Of course we do. But Michael, are you telling me you have Mossad hunting you?”

  “Not yet, but shortly.”

  Gatti was understandably anxious. “That is not good. Where are you?”

  Michael gave him his location an
d Gatti looked up who was closest to him.

  “OK, I have someone near you. Go to the metro station. There's one just a few blocks. I'll have the agent meet you there. When you ask the question 'How do I know you?' they will respond 'We met at that party in St Petersburg. We took your friend Thomas to the hospital with alcohol poisoning.'”

  “You're kidding right?”

  “What? Did you want them to say something weird and cryptic so anyone within earshot would get suspicious?”

  “No, but who comes up with this stuff?”

  “You got something better?”

  “Never mind. Forget I said anything.”

  “It will be about twenty minutes.”

  “All right. Thanks, Tim.”

  Michael found a spot on the platform with a good view and waited. Twenty minutes came and went and he still hadn't made contact. He began to worry something was wrong. As he was anxiously searching for someone who looked like they were searching for him, he spotted a tall, attractive brunette just a few feet away eying him. She smiled when he looked at her. He looked away without giving her any reaction in response. He wasn't in the mood to be hit on. Next thing he knew, she was touching his arm.

  “Excuse me,” she said in Russian. “Do I know you?”

  “No,” he answered without hesitation and then looked away appearing entirely disinterested.

  “I'm sure we've met. Your name's Michael, right?”

  Michael's head whipped back to this woman who now commanded his attention.

  “How do you know me?” he asked.

  “It is you! I thought it was. I'm Kristen. You don't remember me? We met at that party in St. Petersburg. Your friend Thomas got so drunk. I helped you drive him to the hospital. He had really bad alcohol poisoning.”

  Well this was the CIA contact he had been waiting for. He wasn't expecting it to be a woman and felt a little ashamed at his own expectation that the agent would be a man.

  “Of course.” Michael smiled warmly. “I remember you now. I'm sorry.”