Critical Play (Michael Cailen Book 3)

by Mel LeBrun

  “What?”

  “His remains have been positively ID-ed.”

  Jessica felt lightheaded. Despite his words she remained in denial.

  “No, he can't be dead. I don't believe you.”

  “Jessica, some time after you escaped with Dmitri, it appears someone came back to clean up the evidence. They set your father's house on fire. The police have positively ID-ed your father and his two bodyguards..”

  Jessica shook her head as her eyes filled with tears. “No.”

  “I'm so sorry.”

  “We never should have left him,” she angrily sobbed.

  Gatti reached out and took her hand. “I know you had to leave him. And for what it's worth. You had no choice. I'm sorry, Jessica.”

  Crumpling in a ball in her bed, Jessica just cried. Guilt and regret over how she had treated her father came crashing down on her. The hope she held out for a reconciliation someday was shattered. The anger and hatred she had embraced for so long now seemed so unnecessary. She could never have condoned how he lived his life and as long as he kept that life, she never could have let him be a part of hers. But the bitter hatred she felt and showed was something she now wished desperately that she could take back.

  Gatti squeezed her hand feeling helpless. She tried to pull away but he held on.

  “Jessica.” He moved closer and put his other hand on her shoulder. “It's not your fault.”

  “I never should have called him. I never should have asked for his help. None of this would have happened,” she lamented.

  “Truth be told, Jessica, you were forced into that decision because I wouldn't help.” Gatti took a deep breath. “Though now I'm still not even sure how I could have.” He looked at her wishing he knew how to take her pain away. “We know who is responsible for this. They will be brought to justice,” he assured her.

  “I don't want them brought to justice.” She looked Gatti in the eyes. “I want them dead.”

  He gently smiled back at her. “Sometimes it's the same thing, Jess.”

  “Can you bring Ana in?” Jessica asked.

  “Of course,” Gatti agreed and then left to fetch her from the waiting room.

  Tatiana cautiously entered the room with Gatti behind her, not sure what to expect. Jessica smiled warmly at her and held her arms out to hold her. Tatiana nearly ran to the bed and climbed up into her mother’s arms. Jessica held her tight and stroked her hair. Gatti excused himself to give them some privacy.

  “How are you feeling, Ana?” Jessica asked.

  “Fine,” she replied.

  Jessica sat up and pulled Tatiana up with her so she was facing her. “Sweetheart, I know you’re not fine.”

  Tatiana said nothing in return. She simply stared down at her hands.

  “A lot has happened the last few days. We didn’t get a chance to talk about it.”

  “Why did you call Jeff Daddy?” Tatiana asked.

  It was something Jessica had promised they would talk about but then never did. Jessica had been naively hoping it wouldn’t come up again. Jessica knew once she answered that question it would open up a whole host of other questions and so she prepared carefully in her mind before responding.

  “Because he was my Daddy,” Jessica admitted.

  “Why were you so angry with him?” Tatiana asked.

  “You know how good Daddy treats you?” Jessica asked. “How he hugs you and tells you he loves you. He takes care of you and you feel safe with him.”

  Tatiana nodded.

  “My daddy didn’t treat me that way when I was little.” Jessica tried to think of a delicate way to put it. “He made a lot of mistakes.”

  “Did he hurt you?” Tatiana asked, reflecting on her own experience before being adopted by Michael and Jessica.

  “Sometimes,” Jessica answered honestly. “His parents weren’t nice to him so he never learned how to be nice.” Jessica thought that might be a simple way to explain it. “But the last few years he was trying to be nice.”

  “Did he say he was sorry?”

  “He did.” Jessica knew what her next question would be so she decided to preemptively answer it. “He tried to apologize but I was still very angry. And I wasn’t sure he had really changed. But seeing how he was with you. I could see he was really trying. And I started to not feel so angry.”

  “Is he going to be okay?” Tatiana asked.

  Tears welled in Jessica’s eyes and she barely got her next words out. “I hope so,” she replied even though she knew he was dead. She couldn’t bring herself to tell Tatiana the truth and hoped that perhaps she would never have to. She took Tatiana in her arms and held her tight trying to calm her own heart over the loss of her father, hoping Tatiana would never have to experience that pain.

  Some hours later, Jessica was discharged from the hospital after finally managing to eat and drink without throwing it back up. They were sent away with instructions for her to rest and make an appointment with her obstetrician.

  They were soon driving through the gate to Kevin's impressively large home. The truck came to a stop just a few feet from the front door. Jessica got out and took Tatiana's hand as Gatti and his men escorted them inside.

  Kevin was at the door. Without uttering a word, he took Jessica in his arms and held her so tight she could hardly breathe. Jessica wasn't sure what to say or how to react. Clearly Kevin had suffered much anxiety over her in the past few weeks. He finally released Jessica and then knelt down to Tatiana. He looked in her eyes and stroked her hair. She looked back seeming unaffected. He wrapped his arms around her and lifted her off the ground. He couldn't even speak for fear he would break down crying. Next to his daughters, Jessica was the closest thing Kevin had to family. Tatiana had become like another daughter to him, spending nearly as much time at his house as her own.

  “I was so worried about you,” Kevin finally said.

  Tatiana wrapped her arms around his neck. Surprising both Kevin and Jessica, she said, “It's OK, Kevin. Don't worry.”

  Kevin squeezed her tighter while Jessica embraced them both. Tatiana had hardly spoken since the shootout at Jeff's and Jessica was so relieved that she was finally speaking now.

  Gatti remained with Kevin and Jessica at the doorway while his men retreated into the house. He watched the reunion, feeling happy that Jessica was safe while at the same time worried for Michael's safety.

  When Jessica finally turned away from Kevin, she caught sight of Josh and Jinx waiting patiently from a distance. While Josh looked happy and relieved, Jinx was in tears. She looked at Jessica as though she were still pleading for forgiveness. Josh was at her side, his arms wrapped protectively around her. From how Jinx looked, he might also have been holding her up.

  While Kevin was still holding Tatiana, Jessica walked towards Josh and Jinx. As she got closer she held out her arms to her friend who had endured unspeakable torture and who was still being tortured by her own conscience. Jinx broke down sobbing in her arms.

  “I forgive you, Jinx. I forgive you,” Jessica assured her. “You're my best friend. I'm just happy you're alive. That's all that matters.”

  “I'm so sorry,” Jinx cried.

  “You have to stop this,” Jessica said. “What happened is not your fault. No one could have endured what you went through. No one.”

  “I just wanted the pain to stop. I would have told them anything to make it stop. I didn't think about anything else.”

  “Jasmine, you weren't in your right mind. What they did to you was horrific. I can't even imagine. They are the ones to blame.”

  “I'm so sorry,” Jinx continued to cry.

  “Look at me. Look in my eyes,” Jessica insisted. When she had Jinx's attention she continued, “They're all dead. Every last one of them. Dead. So you know what? The joke's on them. They thought they won. But here you are, alive. Here I am, alive. Dmitri, Ivan, Timur – alive. And where are they?”

  As Jessica's words sunk in Jinx felt a sense of relief, joy eve
n. She dried her tears and answered, “They're dead.”

  “So who won in the end?” Jessica asked. “We did. Don't let them steal another minute from your life, Jinx.”

  “You're right,” Jinx tried to agree though it wasn't so easy to let go of the intense feelings of guilt she carried.

  Jessica hugged her again. This time, Jinx hugged back with renewed determination. Renier and his men had taken enough from her and she wasn't going to let them take anymore. Her friendship with Jessica was intact, she had a loving husband, a good job, and a great life. Though she knew she would have setbacks, she was determined to move past this.

  “What about your father?” Jinx asked as she realized Jessica hadn't mentioned him.

  “Whatever happened to my father is the result of his own life choices, Jinx. You're not to blame for his choices.” Jessica could hardly blame Jinx for what happened to her father, and even if she did, she could never bring herself to harm Jinx by vocalizing it.

  “Jessica, did your father die because of me?” Jinx asked tearfully.

  “No,” Jessica answered resolutely. “No, he did not die because of you,” she said firmly. He died because of me, she thought to herself as steady streams of tears made their way down her cheeks.

  Unable to keep it together any longer, Jessica quickly turned and sought solace in one of the bedrooms. She locked the door behind her and wouldn't respond to anyone knocking at it. More than anything else, she cried for Michael. She needed him now more than ever and he wasn't there. The pain and guilt she felt in her heart was overwhelming and the only person who could soothe it was on the other side of the world.

  A few hours passed and there was another light knock on the door before it opened. She quickly turned to see who it was. Josh quietly stepped in the room and shut the door.

  “The door was locked,” Jessica said.

  “Was it?”

  “I just want to be alone, Josh.”

  Josh stepped closer and sat on the edge of the bed. “Well, after what I've been through with Jinx, I'm a little leery about my friends wanting to isolate themselves.”

  “I'm not going to do anything.”

  “When is the last time you ate or drank anything?”

  “The hospital.”

  “That was hours ago. Come downstairs. I'll make you something to eat.”

  “Doesn't Jinx need you?” Jessica asked, hoping to get rid of him.

  “Who do you think sent me in here?”

  Jessica turned to look at him. “She knows I forgive her, doesn't she?”

  “I think she's starting to believe it.”

  “I'm glad she has you.”

  Josh smiled. “You have me, too. So let's go. I'm going to make you eat and drink.” He took her hand and stood from the bed. “If I don't, I'll have Michael and Dmitri to answer to and I can't take on both of them.”

  She chuckled and let herself be entreated. “OK. But just this once.”

  Josh's smile grew into one of his trademark mischievous grins. “We'll see about that.”

  Chapter 37

  Michael had been cautiously conducting surveillance on Ivchenko, Grekov's former supposed partner, while he awaited Martin's arrival. Ivchenko was careful. He was escorted by top dollar security in an armored car. Michael was sure the men were ex-special forces.

  After watching Ivchenko cozy up to politicians and the local police chief in fancy restaurants, Michael was intrigued by a quite different meeting with a mysterious man who was as careful as Ivchenko. They went out of their way to meet in secret. In fact, Michael almost abandoned surveillance fearing he would be caught.

  He followed Ivchenko to a hotel but didn't dare follow him past the lobby. When one of Ivchenko's men remained in the lobby, Michael worried he had been spotted. Michael glanced at his watch and took a seat, trying to look like he was waiting for someone. Ivchenko's man took a seat nearby, appearing not to notice him.

  Michael's nerves nearly unraveled as he weighed how it would look to get up and leave versus staying with the possibility of being discovered. As he was trying to decide what to do, another man entered the hotel and glanced around the lobby.

  He was dressed sharply and had two guards of his own. Upon seeing him, Ivchenko's man got up to greet him. Michael pretended to make a phone call and caught the meeting on camera. The four men went to the elevator and were soon gone.

  Michael breathed a sigh of relief and decided to call it a day. He headed back to Irina's. He stood at the door to the old woman's apartment and raised his hand to knock when he heard men's voices inside. Retracting his hand and replacing it with his ear he tried to hear what they were saying. They were too muffled to distinguish words. Michael hesitated to leave though every nerve in his body wanted to. He wanted to know that Irina was OK. He continued trying to listen while debating whether he should leave.

  He heard someone in the hallway and quickly left the doorway, walking toward the exit. He glanced back as he walked trying to determine if the person was a threat. In an instant he knew the man coming down the hall was FSB. The agent called out to him as he walked faster. When Michael didn't stop, the agent radioed to someone outside.

  When Michael stepped out the front door of the apartment building, he was met by another agent who stopped him at gunpoint and ordered him onto the ground. Michael put his hands up as his mind raced with possibilities: the possibility the agents recognized them; the possibility of him escaping; the possibility that Irina would suffer the consequences if he did escape. The thoughts were still racing through his mind as the agent cuffed him. The agent began searching Michael's pockets for ID when he was joined by his partner from the hallway.

  “Where is your ID?” the agent demanded.

  “I don't have it with me,” Michael answered.

  “What is your name? What are you doing here?”

  “My name is Pavel Sokolov,” Michael replied.

  “Are you related to Irina Sokolov?”

  “I'm her grandson.”

  Michael took a calculated risk. He knew they wouldn't believe he wasn't there to see Irina. He was hovering around her door and they were already suspicious. So he thought he might give them an alternative reason for his being there. It was his only chance to talk his way out of trouble. It was a risky move. They may already know her grandson is dead or she may say something that would tip them off to his lie. Michael figured his only other option was to fight his way free. Though less desirable, it was an option he would still have if they didn't believe him. One of the agents helped him to his feet.

  “Why didn't you stop when I told you to?” the agent angrily asked him.

  “When did you tell me to stop?”

  “In the hallway. You heard me,” the agent insisted.

  “I'm sorry. I didn't hear you,” Michael denied ignoring him.

  “Why were you leaving then?”

  “I forgot, I wanted to bring my grandmother flowers.”

  The agent seemed suspicious of his answer. “You say Irina Sokolov is your grandmother?”

  “Yes.”

  “So if we ask her, she will say the same?”

  “Why wouldn't she?”

  “OK. Let's see about that. You say a word to her and I'll arrest you both,” the agent warned.

  Michael felt his plan unraveling. He prepared his mind for battle as they walked back to Irina's apartment. He sized up the men escorting him while fighting to remain calm and not react until absolutely necessary. The last thing he wanted was to leave Irina high and dry.

  They brought him into the apartment where their supervisor was questioning Irina. By the look on her face, Michael knew they were not being gentle. When she saw him, she looked absolutely panicked.

  “What is going on?” the supervisor asked.

  “We found this man outside the apartment.” The agent turned to Irina. “Do you know him?”

  She looked fearfully at Michael, not knowing what to do.

  “Do you know him or n
ot?” the supervisor asked forcefully. “Is he the man who paid you?”

  A part of Michael was hoping she would give him up to protect herself. It might be better for her if she did. Whatever her response, it was unlikely to match his and as the agents were busy trying to get an answer from Irina, Michael worked at releasing his cuffs. He swiped a pen from the table and with his back to the wall had dismantled it forming an improvised pick.

  With no way of communicating to her what she should say, a confrontation was inevitable. He just hoped he could get the cuffs off in time. He quietly fumbled with the lock hoping Irina would stall long enough for him to get free.

  “Of course I know this man,” Irina finally responded. “He is my grandson.”

  Michael was probably more shocked than the agents. He tried not to show it.

  “Your grandson?” the supervisor repeated.

  “I already told you my name is Pavel Sokolov,” Michael quickly said to keep Irina from saying something different. “What is this about? Why are you questioning my grandmother? And why are you arresting me?” Michael raised his voice, testing how hard they would push back. “What is the meaning of this?”

  The men were reluctant to respond. Instead they directed their next words to Irina.

  “Will you remember those men if you see them again?”

  “I'm not sure,” she replied. “But I think so.”

  Not thrilled with the result of their questioning, but not wanting Irina's grandson as a witness, they decided to leave for the time being.

  The room was quiet after they left. Michael had mixed feelings about what just happened. While he was happy that he didn't have to fight his way out, he knew what Irina's actions would. They were sure to discover that her grandson was dead and when they did, they would come after her.

  “Why did you do that?” Michael asked, almost bewildered by her selfless act on behalf of a stranger.

  “I did nothing,” she brushed it off. “Are you hungry?” she asked as she turned toward the pantry.

  Michael gently touched her arm to stop her. “Irina, they will come after you.”

  “Then let them.” She pulled away.