* * *
“It was good of you to meet with me, Sir,” Alexi said after entering Romanko’s limousine. He sat down opposite the formidable man.
Romanko, smiled politely at Alexi, his eyes betraying a coldness the smile was intended to hide. He leaned back, peering at Alexi with amusement. Romanko stroked his trim black beard with one large gnarled but manicured hand. Alexi could tell Romanko was well over six feet tall. He looked like a bear in the dark suit with matching overcoat. Romanko’s head was shaved. His very expensive bowler hat lay next to him.
“Call me Serge, Alexi,” Romanko directed, his baritone voice soft, yet clear, as if a bass horn were playing in the background of an orchestra. “Mikhail tells me you wish to leave us.”
“Yes. I know I owe everything to the organization. You hold my life in your hands. There is little I can say you do not already know. I will never betray you but I know it is not our way to allow such loose ends to exist.”
“You are right, Alexi, we are not a Rotary club. This man McDaniels who has frightened you so much is in Iraq now. He will probably die there. This fear you have is misplaced. You have no reason to leave us.”
“Then you have decided to leave the Reskova woman alone?” Alexi leaned forward hopefully. “We can be done with these Arab idiots and their murderous religion. Mikhail and I have all our old…”
“No, no, no, my friend,” Romanko interrupted, holding up his hand. “Our Arab friends suspect this woman Reskova to be responsible for many of their recent losses as well as ours. I agree with them. With this Cold Mountain dupe out of the way we can carry forward our plans with the Hughes brothers. This will get us back into the good graces of the Arabs who have begun to suspect we have betrayed them.”
“But Sir,” Alexi pleaded, “why not let these pigs handle the woman themselves? If they lost so much because of Reskova, let them take care of her. Let them strap a bomb on one of their children and blow her up in the street like the perverted cowards do everywhere else in the world.”
Romanko laughed at Alexi’s description of the Terrorist method of warfare. “Ah, very good Alexi - as you say, the cowards do not like such confrontations. If they did anything like you describe they know the American’s Homeland Security agency would trace the killing to them.”
“They will trace the Reskova business to us no matter how many layers we place between us and these brothers. If they prove our complicity with the Arabs, the Americans will destroy us.”
“There will be no tracing the Reskova woman’s handling to us,” Romanko promised. “Come, Alexi, I need you to listen to reason. I do not wish for anything to happen to you. If we cannot be implicated what other concerns can you have?”
“If McDaniels returns from Iraq he will not rest until he finds out what happened to his woman,” Alexi stated, reclining back in his seat with a sudden certainty he would not survive this meeting. He felt relieved only that his family was already on the West Coast. “I have done much research on this McDaniels since Mikhail and I were watching Reskova’s apartment. He was raised by Apaches after his mother died while teaching on the Mescalero reservation.”
“So? This is not the Wild West.”
“I have read many things about these Apaches. The tortures they inflicted on their enemies are legendary. The Americans suspect McDaniels took the heads of sixteen insurgents in Fallujah when one of his men was beheaded. The contact I found this out from in the Pentagon was arrested for accessing McDaniels’ file. This man is a killer without mercy. I fear if this Cold Mountain finds out we were involved in his woman’s disappearance he will not stop until all of us and our families are dead.”
“I am tired of this fairy tale, Alexi,” Romanko replied, some anger creeping into his voice. “Go, if you wish. When Reskova and her Bogey-man are dead you may come back. This leave of absence will cost you everything.”
“Thank you, Serge.” Alexi was stunned at Romanko’s release. “I will transfer everything to you before I go. I wish you well, Sir. I hope I am wrong about this McDaniels.”
“Leave, before I change my mind,” Romanko said with a dismissive gesture of his hand.
* * *
After Alexi left the limousine, Romanko speed dialed the first number on his cell-phone. Mikhail answered on the first ring.
“Retire Alexi formally.”
“Right away, Serge,” Mikhail acknowledged. “His family?”
“Leave them alone. We know where we can find them if they cause any trouble. How long will it take to get the brothers into position?”
“A month, but we will be invisible in it,” Mikhail promised.
“Good. Keep tabs on this McDaniels. If he returns, it would be very nice if the brothers were still keeping the little woman company. Perhaps we can follow this through yet. Our religious friends will be very pleased if we treat this couple properly in the end.”
“They have agreed to the price you demanded?”
“In full - half in the bank already and half when we finish entertaining McDaniels. The Arabs are as frightened of Alexi’s mountain man as he is. They were explicit in not being tied to anything we do with him. I am tempted to handle this dolt myself if he returns.”
“If he can be drawn into our game, I can put you in position to handle the ending if you wish, Serge,” Mikhail replied.
“Yes, make it so.”
* * *
“Tom,” Rutledge called over the intercom to Barrington. “Come out and take a look at this.”
Barrington stopped working on the information concerning Reskova’s would be assassins. He stood up and walked quickly out to join Rutledge and Rasheed at her computer screen. They were looking at the personnel file of a Pentagon worker named Jerrold Hadler.
“Who’s this?”
“He accessed Cold’s military record day before yesterday. Since Cold’s record is off limits, this low level clown was in cuffs before the day was out. He managed to get out a couple info bursts over the Internet to undetermined locations,” Rutledge explained. “I called Diane just now. She’s on her way over.”
“I’m glad. I don’t want her out of the loop on anything relating to the Colonel, no matter how insignificant. If…”
The door to the department swung open. Reskova joined them with an angry look on her face. Without any greeting other than a frowning nod, Reskova scanned the file Rutledge had on her screen.
“I couldn’t get it in my office, Jen. How…”
“He’s in custody,” Rutledge interrupted to save time. “Once we received the Pentagon heads up, I froze out everyone until you and Tom looked it over.”
Reskova put a hand on Rutledge’s shoulder. “Thanks, that was good thinking. You take Kay with you and wring this guy out. I want…”
“Diane,” Barrington cut in softly. “Let Jen and Kay rip this guy’s financial history and personal life apart. Somebody paid for this kind of info. He’s on someone else’s payroll besides the Pentagon.”
“Of course, Tom,” Reskova acknowledged apologetically. She gripped the back of Rutledge’s chair. “Cold’s in Mosul right now gathering intel. If anything gets out about what he’s over there for, Cold’s as good as dead.”
“We know. If we’re going to break this guy, we’ll need to know who he’s tied up with so we can scare the crap out of him with how fast we come up with all the players in the game.”
“Yes, do not worry, Boss. I will personally take this stooge out to Shaun of the Dead’s interrogation warehouse. I will…”
“No!” Reskova looked worried at how easily she could have accepted Rasheed’s offer. “He’s in the system, Kay. He’s an American citizen. Hadler’s been formally charged. We can’t make him disappear.”
“By the time I get done, Kay,” Rutledge said confidently, “we’ll have this toady by the short hairs. He’ll be looking at thirty years in prison or cooperation.”
“As long as we do it quickly,” Rasheed replied. “Even a rumor where the Cold Moun
tain is can be very dangerous.”
“While Jen works the case here, you round up Pete,” Barrington instructed Rasheed. “I’ll have a warrant by the time you get back here. I want every inch of Hadler’s place covered. He lives alone. Bring back everything computer related to the office.”
“I’ll go make sure Hadler stays incommunicado.” Reskova turned toward the door, pausing to look back at Barrington. “Thanks, Tom.”
“De nada,” Barrington replied with a smile. “We’ll nail him good.”
“Are you sure you can spare the newbie from playing house long enough to do some work, Boss?” Rasheed asked Barrington jokingly as he stood up.
“Get going before whoever has Hadler on the payroll decides to look over his place. I don’t want them beating us to whatever’s there.”
Chapter 41
Apartment Hunting
“How is your dangerous duty, my friend?” Rasheed asked Donaldson as he drove toward Hadler’s apartment through the sleeting snow of a blustery Washington DC day.
“Don’t go there again, Kay. It wasn’t my idea to begin with.”
“Why, what can you mean? With such a desperate criminal as Nancy I must inquire about your safety periodically. After all, you are a new and valuable member of my department. It is my job to…”
“Can it, Kay,” Donaldson cut him off with some irritation. “I’ll be back at work soon. The Director feels we can let Nancy stay. I have rigged all the safeguards against anything like what she tried to do. Aginson knows everything going on. His office is swept for surveillance gear daily.”
“That is very forgiving of him.”
“Don’t think for a second he trusts her to do anything other than be a receptionist. She knows she’s working there for the express purpose of fooling anyone in Mero’s cell who might know about her.”
“I assumed Tom would not have had me include you in this task if you could not be spared. You seem a little upset with our usual banter, young Pete. Is there something amiss in paradise?”
Donaldson turned sharply toward Rasheed. He started to say something, his face reddening in anger. Instead, Donaldson watched Rasheed pull over in front of the apartment building Hadler lived in before replying.
“Nancy missed her period. She took one of those over the counter tests from the drugstore this morning. She’s pregnant.”
Rasheed laughed uproariously, clapping Donaldson on the shoulder jovially. As Donaldson peered sheepishly out of his window, Rasheed continued to enjoy the moment with only brief gasps for breath between bursts of laughter.
Rasheed wiped away tears from his eyes. “You are indeed a treasured addition to our department. I assume, unlike in the public schools, the Special Operations unit does not teach their recruits in the use of condoms.”
“Shut up, Kay,” Donaldson said, without turning from his window.
“You act as though someone shot your dog, you fool,” Rasheed said sternly. “The birth of a child is a blessing from God. You love the woman. She is having your child. What is the problem?”
Donaldson faced Rasheed reluctantly. “How do I know Nancy didn’t plan this to…”
“Do not finish such a thought,” Rasheed interrupted with a gesture of impatience. “Any idiot can tell the woman adores you. What matter if she planned to have the child without consulting you? Cowboy up, my young friend. Enjoy this most marvelous of life’s joyous happenings.”
“Cowboy up?” Donaldson smiled for the first time.
“Never mind.” Rasheed stuck out his hand. “Congratulations. You will be a Father. Make sure your child never regrets that you are.”
Donaldson shook Rasheed’s hand. “Thanks, Kay. I guess I’ll have to make it up to Nancy. I wasn’t very exuberant when she told me this morning. One look at my face and she started crying.”
“You are indeed on the hook, newbie.” Rasheed opened his door. “No matter what you say now, your woman will feed you that transgression in small doses of retribution forever.”
“You’re kidding, right?” Donaldson stepped out onto the snow-covered curb.
Rasheed waited until Donaldson joined him on the other side of the van before putting an arm around the younger man’s shoulders comfortingly.
“When she serves a dose, simply put salt on it and eat it with relish, young Pete. Life is full of such repercussions. Giving them more credence than they deserve will only multiply them exponentially.”
“You’re scaring me, Kay.”
“Welcome to my world.” Rasheed grinned at his comrade.
* * *
“I don’t like this,” Donaldson whispered, looking at myriad fresh muddy footprints leading to and stopping at the suspected apartment. The two men stood outside the door, listening to movement inside Hadler’s apartment.
Rasheed contemplated whether to call immediately for backup and possibly lose valuable information or surprise whoever was inside and risk a deadly confrontation. He thought of McDaniels while considering the young Father-to-be across from him. Rasheed drew his 9mm Glock from its holster and motioned Donaldson aside.
“Come in only after I surprise these people and get the drop on them,” Rasheed ordered in a harsh whisper. “If things go bad retreat from here and get help.”
Donaldson blocked Rasheed’s way. “You’re kidding this time, right?”
“Do as I say.” Rasheed shook his head angrily when Donaldson simply drew his own weapon with a smile.
“Cowboy up, Kay.” Donaldson turned the doorknob. It twisted easily in his hand. “The morons left the door unlocked behind them. I’ll go left.”
“Very well, I will tell your child of this foolishness if you are killed disobeying my orders,” Rasheed promised.
The three men inside were caught completely by surprise as they ransacked the apartment. Donaldson’s entry into the apartment placed him within three feet of a man standing with arms folded over his chest, watching the search. The startled man reached inside his jacket. Without hesitation, Donaldson shot the man’s knee from point blank range.
Rasheed faced off the other two men who turned in shock toward the commotion as their screaming comrade now writhed on the floor.
“Drop to the floor or die!” Rasheed shouted. Donaldson kneeled at the ready over the wounded man.
The man furthest from the conflict dove into what appeared to be a bedroom off to the left of the small living room area. Rasheed rushed the other burglar who dropped down as ordered. Donaldson disarmed the wounded man while covering Rasheed. Donaldson then went to the right of Rasheed, putting the bedroom where the man had entered into a crossfire between the two agents.
“Come out on your knees or you will die there,” Rasheed shouted to be heard over the wounded man’s screams.
“Why should I! You’ll kill me anyway.”
“If we were going to kill all of you this screaming idiot would already be silent. We are FBI. Come out and live.”
“I…I am coming out. Do not shoot.”
“Hands clasped behind your head and on your knees,” Rasheed repeated.
Five minutes later, Rasheed had the two unwounded men seated on the floor, their hands and feet in plastic tie restraints. Donaldson worked over the wounded man, having found an elastic wrap in the medicine cabinet of the apartment’s bathroom along with some gauze pads. With his knee wrapped tightly, the wounded man quieted, partly from shock, and partly due to the wound wrap. He groaned loudly, clasping his knee tightly in pain as Donaldson finished searching him for weapons and identification. Rasheed completed the same task on the bound men.
“How long did they say, newbie?” Rasheed refrained from using Donaldson’s name.
“Fifteen minutes. The boss is coming personally with our medical unit. You recognize the accent, Cold Light?”
Rasheed grinned appreciatively at Donaldson. “Yes, it is an accent I am getting all too familiar with. “Go and see if they damaged anything.”
“Not until backup gets here, CL,�
�� Donaldson replied.
“Do as I say. I am not like you American policemen. I would shoot these three without blinking an eye. They realize the truth of what I say. Is that not so comrades?”
The seated Russian men nodded their heads in agreement glumly.
“Well okay then, CL.” Donaldson began his search of the apartment while Rasheed watched the men.
“How long have you been here, comrades?” Rasheed asked the two men.
“Only ten minutes,” the blond haired man who had dived into the bedroom admitted. “You are making a big mistake. We know…”
“Do not waste your time with pathetic denials of your purpose here,” Rasheed cut him off. “For your sakes I hope you three are citizens because you hit the jackpot of stupid places to get caught in.”
The two men traded uneasy glances at each other.
“Say nothing!” The wounded man hissed out through clenched teeth.
“If you speak again I will massage that knee for you, comrade,” Rasheed promised. “Do you understand?”
The Russian clenched his knee even more tightly with a look of horror.
“Now then, comrades,” Rasheed said amiably as he turned back to the bound men. “From your expressions I would have to guess you two are here illegally. That means a trip to Gitmo, to be entertained with the other terrorist stooges.”
“We have nothing to do with that,” the blonde man’s cohort protested. “We were sent to strip the apartment.”
“How far did you get?” Rasheed asked.
“We had only begun when you came through the door,” the blonde man answered.
“Are you three Chechnyan?”
“We are Russian. The three of us are from Minsk.”
Sirens heralded the arrival of Barrington and medical help. Rasheed went over to stand in the doorway of the apartment. Rasheed saw Barrington leading a team of Special Ops men in full gear hurrying down the hallway moments later, followed by a half dozen medical personnel with a gurney. People who had begun peeking out of their apartments quickly retreated back inside their domiciles at the sight of the armed men.
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