Critical Play (Michael Cailen Book 3)

by Mel LeBrun

  Last man standing, Corvo felt a bit like an outcast. Kevin was occupied with the girls and everyone else had just abandoned him in the foyer. Not quite sure what to do with himself, he decided to check on Jessica. She was clearly upset and he wondered what had happened with Josh.

  Jessica was quietly crying into her pillow, wishing Michael was there when she heard a soft knock on her door.

  “Who is it?” she asked.

  “It’s me, Lance.”

  Still not understanding what Josh was talking about, but feeling very self-conscious about her interactions with Corvo, Jessica didn’t readily respond.

  “I’m worried about you,” he said. “Can I please come in?”

  Rather than invite him in, she opted to meet him at the door.

  “Hi, Lance. I’m fine really. I’m just tired.”

  “You’re crying. What happened?”

  “I just miss Michael, Lance. I want him home. I want to know he’s safe.”

  “I’m sorry,” Corvo said feeling helpless to ease her pain.

  “I just need some time alone. Please.”

  “Whatever you need.” He backed away from the door and smiled reassuringly.

  “Thank you.” She shut the door and leaned against it as she took a deep breath trying to calm her nerves.

  Corvo couldn’t help but pick up on her chilled demeanor towards him. During the time she was off with Josh, she changed from warm and friendly to guarded and maybe even a little skittish. The way Josh left the room without speaking to him, Corvo wondered if it had something to do with him. He feared Josh had reached the same conclusion as Dmitri and if so, he needed to act fast to try and dispel that belief before it reached Michael.

  Corvo found Josh alone in the dining room. He was sitting at the table with his head buried in his hands. Corvo cleared his throat to get his attention.

  Josh looked over at him with no expression on his face.

  “Rough day?” Corvo asked as he approached.

  “I’ve had worse.”

  Corvo took the seat across from him and chose his next words carefully. “I know what you mean. I think back to Venezuela and it helps put anything I’m going through in perspective.”

  “Yeah,” Josh agreed. “I think being tortured by a sadist would be about the worst day of anyone’s life.”

  “I owe you guys a huge debt,” Corvo stated solemnly. “One I’m not sure I could ever repay.”

  “You stuck your neck out for us. We couldn’t leave you hanging,” Josh said, wondering what brought on this conversation.

  “Maybe. But Michael especially put himself in harm's way. He willingly put himself in that situation knowing what it would mean.” As Corvo was trying to subtly convince Josh that he would never betray Michael’s trust, he was faced with the haunting reality that he would have in fact betrayed Michael’s trust if Jessica had been willing. The very fact that he would have made him feel disgusted with himself.

  “You seem troubled by something,” Josh observed.

  “Bad memories,” Corvo brushed it off. “Anyway, I should probably go. I haven’t been home in while. I’m sure I have a pile of mail to go through.”

  “You’re not going to stay for dinner?” Josh asked.

  Corvo shook his head. “No. Tell Jess, I’m sorry. I hope she feels better,” he said flatly.

  “I’ll let her know.”

  “Thanks. I’ll call you tomorrow and see how things are going,” Corvo offered.

  “OK,” Josh agreed.

  Corvo left the room and Josh was left second-guessing the impression he had gotten about Corvo and Jessica. Still, the thought was hard to dismiss. Something was simply different between them. Though now Josh wasn’t quite as confident in his assessment.

  Chapter 42

  Michael and Martin met with Osin in a hotel room to discuss how they were going to approach Ivchenko. Osin created cover IDs for himself and Michael using a division of the FSB that conducted undercover operations. It would give a plausible explanation for why they might be unknown to other FSB agents.

  They talked extensively about what they were going to say to Ivchenko to the point where Osin grew irritated. Osin of course would do most if not all the talking and being such, Michael wanted to make sure they were on the same page as far as what their objective was. Michael was just feeling comfortable with how Osin would handle it when his phone rang. It was Gatti.

  “Michael. Do you have any idea when you could get back into Ivchenko’s and clone the server?” Gatti asked him. “Our favorite hacker has the server credentials, thanks to the keylogger you installed.”

  “How long will that take?”

  “Well, therein lies the rub. Depending on the amount of data and the server’s CPU and connection, anywhere from twenty minutes to several hours.”

  “Several hours?!” Michael said louder than he meant to. “Do I have to be there?”

  “Jess isn’t certain she can copy it remotely. She thinks you’ll have to physically connect another computer or backup device to the server which means you would have to stay there until it finishes.”

  Michael cursed under his breath. “Could you make it any harder?”

  “Well,” Gatti paused not sure he wanted to finish his sentence. “If she can’t remote-in to the server, you’ll have to do it.”

  “Well in that case we should plan on it taking several days,” Michael said not feeling confident in his technological abilities.

  “If you get in there and that turns out to be the case and you can’t do it, we’ll just have to get someone else who can. Don’t stress about it.”

  Michael ran his fingers through his hair and took a deep breath. “I’ll have to review the audio from the bugs we installed. See what his schedule is like. I can’t imagine getting into that building after dark will be easy, but I may not have a choice if he’s not going to be away for that long.”

  “Jess is putting together a shopping list. You’ll be armed with multiple options for cloning the server. Once you’re in it, we can figure the fastest way.”

  Resigning himself to his fate Michael sighed. “All right. Let me see what I can do.” He ended the call and turned to Martin and Osin. “We … I,” he corrected himself, “need to get back into Ivchenko’s office to copy the contents of his server. It could possibly take several hours.”

  Martin gave him a look that expressed the same feelings he had. “Let’s hope it doesn’t take that long.”

  “You’re telling me,” Michael agreed. “So now that leaves the question, should we approach Ivchenko first and risk spooking him?”

  “I think the faster we move on this, the better,” Osin stated. “Let’s not forget that there is a nuclear weapon in the hands of terrorists, and we still do not know what they plan to do with it.”

  Michael and Martin nodded.

  “OK so we go forward with the plan,” Michael said. “Since security in his building has already seen me, we will have to meet up with him somewhere else.”

  “A display of power might put him on the defensive and give us an upper hand,” Martin suggested.

  “Is it possible to get our hands on an FSB car?” Michael asked.

  “Yes, it is possible,” Osin answered. “You think we should pull him over?”

  “It will show we mean business and allow us to talk privately,” Michael reasoned.

  “I can have the car by tomorrow morning,” Osin offered.

  “Good. We can stake out his house and follow him when he leaves in the morning,” Michael said.

  The plan seemed good to everyone so they broke for the evening and crashed at a hotel. Michael hoped his nerves would allow him to rest. He was anxious about what he was doing as well as how his wife and daughter were coping. He knew they were safe and that was a tremendous relief, yet still he wasn’t with them. He knew they missed him and he wanted to be there for them. Thoughts of them at times became overwhelming.

  After tossing and turning most of
the night, Michael woke at 2 a.m. feeling weary and frazzled yet frustratingly wide awake. In desperation, he dialed Gatti.

  “How are you doing, Michael?” Gatti asked.

  “I need to talk to her.”

  “Is everything OK?”

  “I just need to hear her voice,” Michael said.

  “You don’t sound so good, Michael. Is everything OK?”

  “I’m fine, Tim. I just want to talk to my wife. Will you please get her on the phone?”

  “I’ll call you back in a few minutes.”

  Michael hung up the phone and waited. Five minutes passed and he started to pace the room. Five more minutes passed and he was now pacing the room staring at the phone in his hand. The phone lit up with an incoming call and he answered it before it even had a chance to audibly ring.

  “Michael?” Jessica’s voice came over the line.

  “Hi, sweetheart.”

  “Are you OK?”

  Relief washed over him as he took a deep breath and sat on the edge of the bed. “I just needed to hear your voice. I miss you.”

  “I miss you too. How is it going?”

  “Good. We’re making progress.”

  “Do you have any idea yet when you might be home?”

  “I’m sorry, I don’t. But if tomorrow goes well then it might not be much longer. Maybe a few weeks.”

  Jessica had hoped to hear a few days. She remained quiet hoping not to cry.

  “How are you doing?” Michael asked her.

  “I’m better.”

  “You able to keep anything down?”

  “Yes. I actually feel a little guilty because everyone is waiting on me.”

  Michael smirked. “Well, you never get that from me so enjoy it while it lasts.”

  Jessica let out a mocking laugh. “I get the feeling if you were here you wouldn’t let me do anything myself.”

  Michael’s smile grew into a huge grin and his anxiety ebbed away as he spoke to his wife.

  “You know you’re going to need a crowbar to get me off of you when I get back?” he said.

  Jessica giggled. “Who says I’ll want you off of me?”

  He chuckled. That was the playful wife he remembered. “How’s Ana?” he asked.

  “She’s doing better too. Kevin hired a tutor to come to the house and I think being around Lauren and Emily has really helped her calm down. She asks about you a lot, but she’s acting more like herself.”

  “I’m glad to hear. I think about you guys a lot.”

  “I know you do, Michael. But we’re fine. You worry about you right now. I want you to come home to me.”

  “I want to come home to you too.”

  “Do what you need to do, Michael. We’ll be here waiting.”

  “I love you so much, Jessica.”

  “I love you more.”

  “Not possible.”

  With a large smile that made her cheeks hurt she relented. “I’m too pregnant to argue with you.”

  Michael just shook his head. As his anxiety faded so did his energy. Feeling more relaxed made him also feel more sleepy.

  “I should probably get some rest,” he said. “I have to get up in a few hours.”

  “What time is it there?”

  “2:37,” he answered.

  “What in the world are you doing up that late?”

  “I couldn’t sleep. I needed to talk to you.”

  Jessica’s heart melted. “I’m glad you called.”

  “Me too.”

  “Now get some rest, soldier. That’s an order.”

  “Yes, ma’am,” Michael agreed.

  There was a moment of silence as neither one wanted to end the call. Michael finally worked up the nerve to do what needed to be done.

  “Good night, sweetheart,” he said.

  “Good night, Michael. I love you.”

  “I love you more,” he said, quickly ending the call before she could protest.

  Michael lay back down and this time fell into a deep sleep that lasted until he was woken by Martin at 5 a.m. They met Osin a half hour later. He was driving a black Mercedes fitted with government plates, lights and a siren that looked exactly like one owned by the FSB.

  “What did you do? Steal it?” Michael asked.

  “Borrowed it. One of the perks of my agency,” Osin explained.

  “Fair enough. Shall we get going?”

  “Please,” Osin agreed.

  Leaving Martin behind, Osin and Michael drove to Ivchenko’s apartment building and waited. They sat in silence for 45 minutes before Osin decided to make conversation.

  “If the evidence shows that Dmitri did knowingly sell the nuke, what will you do?” Osin asked.

  “If we find evidence that proves Dmitri is absolutely guilty, I will serve out his sentence with him.”

  “You would go to prison with him?”

  “I’m not going to prison. I’m just that certain he’s innocent.”

  “In my experience, people can surprise you.”

  “Not Dmitri,” Michael said confidently. “Dmitri has a quality that not many in this world have.”

  “And what’s that?”

  “Integrity.”

  “He is lucky to have you as a friend,” Osin remarked.

  “I feel the same way about him.”

  “I should only hope to have a friend as loyal as you,” Osin said.

  “If Dmitri were your friend, you would.”

  “I have a hard time trusting people,” Osin admitted.

  “In your line of work, I can’t blame you.”

  “Yes, but seeing you and Dmitri I can’t help but think of what I might be missing.”

  Michael nodded understandingly. “There’s Ivchenko.”

  Osin’s gaze returned to the building and they watched Ivchenko being escorted to his car by his two bodyguards. One guard drove while the other sat in the backseat. They followed them from the apartment building and onto the highway. When they exited the highway, Osin flicked on the lights and siren forcing Ivchenko’s car to pull over on the street.

  With Osin taking the lead, they approached Ivchenko’s car. The bodyguard who was driving asked what was wrong.

  Looking past the driver to Ivchenko, Osin smiled. “Good morning, Mr. Ivchenko,” Osin said. “Can you please tell your men to exit the car?”

  “Excuse me?” Ivchenko said.

  “Please tell your men to get out of the car so I do not have to arrest them.” Osin flashed his badge to dispel any doubt about his identity.

  Ivchenko told his men to stand outside the car on the sidewalk. They did as instructed and Osin sat in the driver’s seat. Michael approached Ivchenko’s bodyguards next to the car and ordered them to face the building next to them. Ivchenko’s attention predictably turned away from Osin and towards his men, as Michael began searching them. While Ivchenko was distracted with what was happening to his bodyguards, Osin planted a bug under the driver’s seat.

  “You do not need to worry about your men,” Osin reassured him. “It is you we want to speak with.”

  “What is this about?” Ivchenko asked.

  “We had a mutual friend. Sergey Grekov.”

  “I’m afraid I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

  “Ah. Well let me refresh your memory.”

  Osin pulled his phone from his pocket and began to play the audio files of Ivchenko’s phone conversations with Grekov. Ivchenko tried to appear unaffected but was clearly shaken by the recording.

  “What is this?” Ivchenko asked.

  “That’s you,” Osin replied. “Discussing your arrangement with Grekov to sell a nuclear weapon.”

  “That is not me,” Ivchenko asserted. “You are mistaken.”

  “We have already confirmed it is you,” Osin stated calmly. “But not to worry. I am not here to arrest you. I have an offer for you.”

  “What kind of offer?”

  “Grekov was paying me and my partner handsomely for our services. Since
you had Grekov killed, we have experienced a loss of income.”

  “I can’t help you if I’m in prison.”

  “Precisely,” Osin agreed. “But if we made the evidence against you disappear, well then you would be in the clear to do as you wish. And with our continued assistance, we could insure that you will never be caught.”

  “And how much would this service cost me?”

  “The same price it cost Grekov, with a slight increase for the inconvenience you have caused us,” Osin replied. “€2,500 for each of us, each month.”

  “Are you crazy?’ Ivchenko asked.

  “Well,” Osin shrugged. “If you don’t want to pay us, I understand.” He put his hand on the door and prepared to open it. “Enjoy prison life.” He opened the door and moved as though he were ready to leave.

  “Wait!” Ivchenko said.

  Osin sat back in his seat and shut the door again. “Have you reconsidered?”

  “Who else has heard this?”

  “A few people. However, they have not yet identified the man Grekov is speaking with. We kept that to ourselves in the hopes that we could come to an agreement.”

  Ivchenko was silent for an awkward amount of time as he struggled to accept being blackmailed. “I have a counter offer,” he finally said, hoping to retake some control.

  “This is not a negotiation.”

  “I will pay you €8,000 each to eliminate the evidence against me. After that, you will work for me for free for 6 months. If I find your services are worth the price you are asking, then I will begin paying you.”

  Osin took his time considering the offer and then replied with his own counter offer. “Four months.”

  “You had better be worth it,” Ivchenko said with a subtle threatening tone.

  If he hadn’t been afraid to kill Grekov, Ivchenko wouldn’t think twice about killing two FSB agents who threatened him. However, since they were holding evidence against him, his hands were tied. He had no choice but to work with them, at least initially.

  Osin held out a piece of paper with two numbered accounts and a phone number, which Ivchenko grudgingly took. Osin then stepped from the vehicle and Michael joined him as they returned to their car in silence.