Monster
Page 44
“All is well, Boss,” Rasheed explained, leading Barrington and the rest of the team into the apartment. “The wounded one is the leader. They’re all Russian from Minsk according to these two.”
Barrington turned to one of the Special Ops men. “Collier, you stay with that guy no matter what. No one gets near him. Are we clear?”
“Yes Sir,” Collier barked in acknowledgement, turning to gesture the medical team into the room and toward the only wounded man.
“The rest of you take these two to holding. Same orders. No one sees them.”
After the Special Ops and medical teams were out of the apartment, Barrington pitched in with Rasheed and Donaldson to secure everything of interest in the apartment.
“It is good of you to help us, Boss, with so many pressing matters awaiting you in your office,” Rasheed needled Barrington.
“Shut up, Kay.” Barrington heard Donaldson stifling laughter from the next room.
“He’s been at me all morning, Boss,” Donaldson called out.
“Since you’re so talkative, Kay, perhaps you could explain why the two of you decided to assault this apartment without backup. I only ask because you see we work for one of those agencies where I have to explain the answer to Diane. She will then have to explain it to the Director.”
“It was my call, Boss,” Rasheed admitted. “I wanted the information we seek intact. I am sorry I acted without consulting you.”
“Kay ordered me to stay out and call backup while he went in,” Donaldson added quickly. “I disobeyed his direct order.”
“Did you identify yourselves before rushing in and kneecapping one of the men?” Barrington asked with a sigh of anxiety, knowing the hell he and Diane would be put through over this incident.
When only silence greeted his question, Barrington sat down heavily on the apartment sofa.
“And I thought the Colonel was our only wild card.” Barrington seemed more angry at himself than at Rasheed and Donaldson.
Rasheed carried out a box of discs from the room he was responsible for searching. Donaldson had already piled everything from the small den he had been working in near the doorway. The two men joined Barrington where he sat in the living room.
“Sorry, Boss,” Rasheed repeated.
“Forget it, Kay. It’s my fault. Even though I mentioned it, I never thought for a moment they would move on the apartment this fast. I should have sent Jen with you. You two are the enforcement wing of our little team.”
“We know better, Sir,” Donaldson replied. “It’s not your fault we went in without bothering to check with you. Looking back, it was just plain stupid.”
“On the good side, the three are illegal aliens, carrying illegal weapons,” Rasheed added hopefully, inwardly agreeing with everything Donaldson had just said. “Our laws of playing patty-cake with deadly criminals only involve US citizens, right?”
Barrington leaned forward and put his head in his hands. “We will certainly work the angle. If we do manage to get through this unscathed, you two will have to reign in your impulsive natures. Perhaps sensitivity training would do both of you a world of good.”
“Just shoot us now, Sir,” Donaldson replied ruefully. “I don’t even need a blindfold.”
“What is this sensitivity thing you speak of?” Rasheed asked in confusion.
“I’ll let Pete explain it to you later. It was just a joke. You guys did a hell of a job here. We’ll have to make sure the details of your raid stay foggy. Let’s load this stuff up and get it back to the office. Post the crime scene. After Jen and I go over what you two confiscated we’ll CSI the interior of the apartment ourselves. I see I overestimated your attention to details such as gloved hands at a crime scene too. In the future, I’ll be sure to send you two out with procedures stenciled onto the sleeves of your shirts.”
Barrington rested his head on the top of the sofa, looking blankly up at the ceiling. “Jen is going to torture you guys for months with this ammunition. She’ll want to dress you and everything before you boys go out again.”
“Shoot me now, Boss,” Rasheed said wearily, sitting down next to Barrington.
* * *
“I’m sorry about this, Diane,” Barrington apologized as he sat down in front of her desk.
“Don’t worry about it, Tom. I needed to give you a few more pointers about taking over. I had you and Jen so long I took a lot for granted. We’ll chalk it up to education.”
“What can we do to make this right?”
“Already in the works - I suggested to the Director we get everything we can from the three, make the wounded one all better, and deport their asses the hell out of the country. We already know some guy named Romanko replaced the guys we busted. How’s the other data panning out from Hadler’s apartment?”
“A Russian named Alexi Neditch was Hadler’s contact. He’s dead. The DC police found him in his apartment tied to a chair with a few 22 cal. shots through his head. This Hadler guy is going away for a long time though. We’re still cataloguing all the stuff he’s been peddling. Luckily he was a low level bureaucrat. They gave him a nice piece of change to access the Colonel’s file.”
“When I tried to look at Cold’s file I could only access the official military part. Was Hadler able to get any more than that?”
“He made it into the Colonel’s personnel file with a lot of detail about his background and security checks. No one can get into the stuff he did on covert operations. Even his other files are flagged as Hadler found out the hard way.”
“The people who raised him on the Apache reservation have since passed away. His parents were already gone long before that. Question is, why did they want to know about him at all? That would mean they suspect him in the disappearance of Kasyanov and Tomashevsky.”
“They only know he’s in Iraq. It could be they wanted to avoid the Colonel by making sure he was out of the country,” Barrington offered.
“Let’s hope so,” Reskova replied thoughtfully. “Keep me up to date, Tom. If you could send me a blast at the end of the day with anything you find out on any of this, I’d appreciate it.”
“No problem. Since Pete’s been back in the office, guess what Jen does since the Hadler raid.”
“Tell me,” Reskova urged.
“Dress inspections for Kay and Pete,” Barrington explained enthusiastically as he pictured the scene from that very morning. “Then she hands them each a lunch and a map of wherever they need to be for the day. She finishes them off by going over a sheet on how to behave at a crime scene, ending the lecture with detailed instructions on serving a warrant. Oh, if only you could have seen Kay’s face these past few mornings. If his eyes were laser blasters, Jen would be atomic dust.”
By the time Barrington finished his description, Reskova was laughing uncontrollably. She just waved as Barrington stood up and walked to the door.
* * *
As the screen cleared from its digital pixel beginnings, Reskova glanced at the locked door of her office before pulling open her dress more. She eyed the small box on the screen with the image she was projecting critically. She altered her position until satisfied with her pose. McDaniels’ hooded and bearded face sharpened into some clarity. Reskova heard his intake of breath.
“Red… you little minx.” McDaniels voice came through seconds after his lips moved.
Reskova glanced at the door again before quickly disrobing completely. She posed again wearing only garter belt, hose, and high heels.
“How’s this?” Reskova leaned back provocatively.
“Oh…my…God…” McDaniels shifted his position uncomfortably. “You made me forget what the hell we’re supposed to be having this meeting about.”
Reskova smiled at him innocently. “Something to do with a certain bogey over the border and how you’re progressing on interception.”
“Slow but sure. It’s much easier to move undetected right now because it’s freezin’ out here. I have the boys in a comfort
able position to cover my exit. They’re helping out on the border watch for insurgents. I’m updating once more before I head in for good. I should be on the outskirts of the village where the bogey is in about three days. I’m figuring on at least a few weeks finding a spot to keep a low profile in between getting the lay of the land and plotting my exit with the people concerned.”
“You’ll freeze to death before you get close, goofy.”
“Don’t worry about that. My equipment will be out of commission long before me,” McDaniels said. “After you flashed me on our last update, I have a DVD in to burn your little strip act on. I wasn’t too concerned about being incommunicado. I’m damned concerned about not being able to watch your strip act a few more thousand times.”
“We caught a clown in the Pentagon accessing your records for the Russians. Kay and Pete nailed three Russians at his apartment trying to strip it before we arrived.”
“Any alive for you to question?”
“All three. They didn’t add much to what we already knew. The Russians filled the void we made in their leadership with some guy named Romanko. He had another guy named Alexi something or other killed. We’re not sure what the killing had to do with this Alexi’s contact in the Pentagon.”
“Alexi’s Pentagon guy, Hadler, didn’t get anything other than some of your background.” Reskova continued. “He did send it out somewhere before he was busted. With what we found out about his little intelligence selling operation we had him nailed for a long stretch in the slammer. He gave us the web address he sent the info burst to but it was already a dead end.”
“Any idea what they wanted with my records?”
“I’m not sure yet. We’re trying to piece it together. It probably had to do with all their missing people. The Russians were working with the Arabs. I’m figuring your name popped up between them.”
“I don’t like it, Red. You better be even more careful.”
“Me? You’re running around in enemy territory in arctic conditions and I’m in danger?”
“I know where all my enemies are here. You watch your back, woman.”
“I miss you,” Reskova whispered, reaching between her legs and leaning back again.
“Oh…my…God…” McDaniels mumbled repeatedly, forgetting the Russians, the Arabs, and even his location.
Chapter 42
The Syrian Border
“Everything okay, Colonel?” Lieutenant Dominguez asked McDaniels when he saw the faraway look in the man’s face.
The small squad of recon Marines spaced out on a ledge overlooking the Syrian border had been waiting for McDaniels’ return. The icy wind howled unmercifully as Sergeant Bocelli gave an insulated cup to McDaniels who sipped from it gratefully.
“She did you again, didn’t she, Colonel?” Bocelli chuckled at the uncharacteristic guilty look that flashed across McDaniels’ face momentarily.
“You’re right, Jed.” Dominguez peered closer at McDaniels. “He looks even worse than last time though. See, this is why fraternization is frowned on in the military, especially at your level, Sir.”
“If you two turds don’t shut up,” McDaniels growled warningly as the Marines shared a laugh at his expense, “the next time you get to use my satellite setup to call home will be when your kids are out of college.”
“We’re just trying to look out for you, Sir,” Dominguez protested, still reigning in laughter. “It’s a wonder you don’t get killed stumbling around out there like a lovesick puppy dog.”
“Yeah, Colonel,” Bocelli chimed in. “You already look like Osama or that scarred up Mullah he used to hang out with. You’re lucky we don’t shoot you by mistake.”
“It sounds like some Marines I know need another lesson in surprise,” McDaniels pondered out loud, rubbing his bearded chin.
“C’mon now, Colonel.” Dominguez tone turned suddenly serious. “Jed was just kiddin’ around. Right, Jed?”
“You bet.” Bocelli held up a hand in a placating manner to McDaniels. “You promised you wouldn’t pull that Apache shit on us no more. Someone’s going to get hurt if you keep ghosting in on us like that.”
“I might be willing to trade.” McDaniels continued to pose thoughtfully.
“Okay, okay,” Dominguez replied, getting a nod from Bocelli, “no more needling you about AD Reskova.”
“Very well then, young Jedi, let’s get the squad back somewhere warm and go over what I managed to film tonight.”
Inside the small compound, only miles from the Syrian border, McDaniels finished showing Lieutenant Dominguez and Sergeant Bocelli the terrain nearly five miles within the Syrian side of the border. McDaniels then went over the route again on his field laptop he planned using to extract Hasib Nakuda’s family if he found them.
“You guys will have the laptop. I can’t take it with me this trip in. Anybody sees me hiking around out there with anything more high tech than the AK47 and I’ll be screwed. I can ditch the small digital stuff pretty easy.”
“How far in is the camp this guy has set up, Colonel? You haven’t told us anything except where you might pop up,” Dominguez said. “What if…”
“Reskova has all the data back home,” McDaniels cut in. “If they don’t hear from me after a month, there’s going to be an accidental Stealth bombing. As you can see on the map, the site is almost in a direct line between Mosul and Al Hassakah. You guys only have to worry about covering the border at the spot I showed you tonight. I’ll turn on the locator when I’m within range of the border. Until then I’ll be out of contact.”
“A month though, Colonel?” Bocelli stared at McDaniels doubtfully. “Why not do the Stealth accident and then tell Nakuda you couldn’t find his family? This sounds more like a suicide mission every second.”
McDaniels grinned at the young Sergeant. “You’re getting pretty callous, Jed. If I can get to this guy al Zoubi, he might have a hard drive I can latch onto with his whole network on it. I need intel when I get close. Nakuda’s wife could provide me with what I need.”
“Or she might write off her husband and turn you in,” Dominguez pointed out. “I know what you can do, Colonel, but you ain’t some super hero. Big as you are, they’ll pick you out in that place before you can contact anybody.”
“I don’t plan on singing campfire songs with them, Abe. I’ve already outfitted a few spots near the training site with everything I’ll need. What do you think I’ve been doing these past weeks? I have my eye on one of the young guards. This weather is hell to stand guard duty in. For me, it’s a Godsend. I’ve come within five hundred yards of the place. They’re hunkering down at night like they think they’re at a boy-scout camp.”
“I get that, Sir,” Dominguez acknowledged before going on. “You still have to find Nakuda’s wife, make contact, and then locate al Zoubi. I…”
“What is it with you two?” McDaniels broke in. “We’ve been over the plans for this a hundred times. You guys have been traipsing around this barren toilet for weeks. It’s sweet you’re worried about me, girls, but this is what we do. Now, are there any questions about the mission?”
“No Sir!” The two Marines said in chorus.
“Good, now who has a small portable DVD player I can take with me?”
* * *
“Have you heard from Cold?” Rutledge asked. Reskova had finished briefing them concerning on-going surveillance of the Mero cell.
Reskova shook her head negatively as she gathered her PDA and briefcase up.
Barrington, Rutledge, Donaldson, and Rasheed exchanged worried glances, with Rasheed giving Rutledge head nods to keep asking.
“I know this is like root canal surgery to talk about, but…”
“It’s not that, Jen,” Reskova interrupted, pausing to look around at the group. “I know how much you all care about him. I flat out don’t know. Cold’s on mission. He can’t communicate again until he’s on his way out or he needs to call in an air strike. Believe me, I trust you all implicitly. I
f I knew more, you’d know more.”
“On a different matter, no one has contacted Nancy yet,” Donaldson said. “I was wondering if…”
“No, she can’t take off on pregnancy leave, Pete.” Reskova smiled as Donaldson’s co-workers started laughing.
“I…I meant,” Donaldson stammered uncomfortably, “do you want the round the clock surveillance called off for the time being?”
“Yes, Boss, it is getting extremely uncomfortable for the newbie to make babies in the bathroom out of earshot,” Rasheed said, evoking renewed laughter and a one finger salute from Donaldson.
“You’re right, Pete. We could use those resources elsewhere. Good point.”
“What about the Russians, Diane?” Barrington asked.
“The Director told me to hand that one over to the police. We believe the Arab connection was severed after the warehouse roundup. This Romanko character appears to be just another gangster. Aginson thinks it would be best to let the police department’s organized crime unit handle him. Romando’s second in command, Mikhail Kojovich, is the one we suspect killed that Alexi guy. It has all the markings of a mob power struggle.”
“Why do we not just exterminate these…” Rasheed began, only to shut up when he saw Reskova’s irritated look.
“We’ve been over… never mind. We don’t do that, Kay, and you know it. This is not a police state. Romanko’s a naturalized citizen. It’s time for you to stop thinking in those terms unless you can think of a way to get Cold back here. Then we can copy our last Fort Marcy Park black op.”
Reskova’s sudden callous statement concerning the deaths of four Russian gang members after meeting with Tomashevsky in Fort Marcy Park caused another outburst of appreciative laughter. Rasheed nodded his head enthusiastically.
“Now that is what I’m talking about. Pete and I can handle this bunch, Boss. Get the devil dog and set up the meeting.”
“Dino’s retired. I have to bribe him to go on walks since Cold left.”
“You should be more careful with the walking out in the open business, Diane,” Barrington warned. “We still aren’t sure you’re not a target.”