Divide & Conquer

by McDonald, Murray

  The lowest point in his life had come three months ago. Sean’s death and the revelations of a secret life hidden from him had hit him harder than the death of James and Myriam, harder than the death of his own parents. It was true, burying a child was the hardest thing you could ever do. Burying one you suddenly didn’t recognize as your own was even harder.

  Having Sean back had re-invigorated him. His bounce had come back, his reason for being was back. His life once again had purpose.

  Vincent got up from his bed and checking his clock, pondered again over the Russian involvement. The moment Sean had mentioned it, it had triggered something. He racked his memory. At seventy, it was a little slower to respond than it used to be but if there were something there, it would come to him eventually. In the meantime, he picked up his phone, despite the late hour, and dialed an old friend, the former head of the CIA’s Moscow office who answered after three rings.

  “Who the hell is calling me at this time of night?!” came the answer.

  “Vincent Black!” responded Vincent, not bowing to the old spy’s aggressive tone.

  “How in the hell are you, V?”

  “Confused, Mike,” replied Vincent, cutting to the chase. “Any ideas why the Russians would be interested in Sean?”

  “Sean, as in your Sean, as in killed three months ago Sean?” clarified Mike. He also wasn’t one to beat about the bush.

  “Sort of, Sean arrived back today after a stint in Afghanistan.”

  “So he’s not dead?”

  “Apparently not but the science says he was the body parts we received three months ago.”

  “What’s that got to do with the Russians?”

  Vincent explained what he knew and listened to a very quiet line. Just as he thought Mike had hung up, he spoke.

  “It can’t be…” said Mike pensively. “Vincent, I need to make some calls. I’ll call you back,” he added more firmly.

  “Wait a minute,” said Vincent quickly. “What are you thinking?”

  “Too early to say but if it is what I think it is, the cold war may not be over, it may have been a temporary thaw!” Mike’s voice was ice cold, adding an eerie relevance to his shocking conclusion.

  Chapter 23

  Pytor hung up on Borodin and grinned inanely at Alexa. “We’re off the hook!” he said, explaining his ridiculous grin.

  “Thank God!” she breathed and relaxed. It was only after the call that she realized how tense she had been.

  “I’ll call the Director and tell him we’re heading back to Washington. We do work for SVR after all!” offered Pyotr as he began to search for Deputy Director Beryutov’s number.

  “I’ll leave you to it,” she offered cheerily with a wave and closed the door quietly behind her as she made her way back to her own room. With twelve hours until the next flight to Washington, she planned to spend as many of them as possible sleeping.

  As Pyotr listened to the voice mail message, he checked his watch. It was almost 10 a.m. in Moscow. He redialed the office number and was immediately connected with Deputy Director Beryutov’s secretary.

  “Science Division.”

  “I’d like to speak with the Deputy Director, please.”

  “Of course, may I ask who’s calling?”

  “Pyotr Travkin.”

  “And will she know what it is regarding?”

  Travkin assumed he misheard the secretary’s use of the word 'she’ in reference to the Deputy Director.

  “He will yes!”

  “I’m sorry were you looking for former Director Beryutov?” asked the secretary.

  “Former Director?”

  “Yes I’m afraid there was a terrible accident this morning. He was killed in a car crash on the way to work,” she said with little emotion.

  “On his way to work?” confirmed Pyotr.

  “Yes,” a suspicion entered her tone, which hadn’t been there previously. “It’s terrible, we are all very shocked,” she added quickly realizing she had dropped her guard.

  Pyotr had a list of questions he wanted to ask and check, including whether the secretary could have sounded any less caring. However, the less he got involved the better and the sooner he ended the call the better also.

  “Please pass on my condolences,” offered Pyotr in an attempt to end the call.

  “Of course,” she replied without any thought. “Shall I put you through to Deputy Director Borodin?” she added quickly.

  “Borodin? As in GRU Borodin?” Pyotr almost choked as he spoke.

  “No, as in Dr Helena Borodin,” she replied.

  “Of course, there are lots of Borodins!” he replied, laughing off the ridiculousness of his question.

  “I believe she is his niece!” she added matter of factly. “Will I connect you?”

  Pyotr struggled to garner his thoughts. “Hmm, no it’s OK, it really wasn’t important and is no longer necessary,” he managed, despite himself.

  The secretary having done her job gave him a clipped goodbye and ended the call.

  Pytor slumped onto the bed as the repercussions of the call reverberated throughout his mind.

  First things first though, they had to move. He packed his bag and made his way to Alexa’s room. It took almost a minute of hard knocking to wake her up. Eventually her door opened, a long white t-shirt managed just to cover the roundness of her very pert bottom, something Pyotr, under normal circumstances, would have paid far more attention to as he followed the half asleep figure back towards her bed.

  “What do you want Pyotr? I really need to sleep,” she whined.

  Pyotr didn’t sit or speak. Instead, he approached the window and pulled the curtain back slightly allowing him to check the parking lot below.

  “What’s wrong Pyotr?” prompted Alexa, his behavior bringing her out of her slumber.

  “Deputy Director Beryutov is dead!”

  Alexa looked at him, speechless.

  “Killed in a car crash on his way to work this morning,” added Pyotr.

  “That’s terrible!” Neither was under any illusion of what really happened.

  “But we’ve had the all clear from Borodin,” she offered in comfort to a very nervous Pyotr.

  “Yes but we have a major problem. I know how this works. A quick action followed by a thorough clean up.”

  “We’ll be fine!” she confirmed again with confidence.

  Pyotr pulled out his cell phone and handed it to Alexa. The screen showed the name 'DD Beryutov’.

  Alex clicked the name and a text message appeared.

  'In office, meeting with Director – stand by for orders.’

  The date and time were that morning in Moscow at 6.54 a.m.

  Alexa didn’t need Pyotr to spell out what it meant. She got up and packed her bag. They needed to move. Pyotr and Alexa had proof that Deputy Director Beryutov had not died on the way to the office but had in fact met with the Director prior to his death. They of course knew that GRU was involved via General Borodin. In short, they were walking corpses at least as soon as the telephone records for Beryutov were checked and the message to Pyotr was uncovered.

  As she packed her bag, Pyotr updated her on the identity of the new Deputy Director, Helena Borodin, niece of General Borodin.

  “Jesus, we are so fucked!” she offered unnecessarily as they fled the room.

  As they got into the car, both looked at each other for ideas of where to go. They sat silently as both considered all the options. The world was a big place but whether it was big enough to evade the SVR and GRU was an entirely different question.

  It was Alexa who uttered the word they were both thinking. “Defect?” she asked.

  Pyotr mulled it over before nodding his head slightly. It really was the only option if they wanted to stay alive. If they gave the Americans enough Intel, they would be placed under their witness protection program, something which offered all previous Soviet and Russian traitors a modicum of security.

  He looked at Alex
a. She nodded more firmly. Decision made. Pyotr turned the ignition key. The car spluttered but didn’t start. He tried it again.

  “No, don’t!!” screamed Alexa but it was too late, the key was fully turned and the car’s engine started.

  The look of panic on Pyotr’s face turned to laughter as the low hum of the running engine allayed Alexa’s worst fears. Her paranoia was also replaced with laughter, as both realized how ridiculous they were being. The Russian system was not that efficient.

  They were, of course, correct. The Russian system was not that efficient. It was only after Pyotr’s call that the Russians were alerted to any issues with regard to Pyotr and Alexa. The secretary was certain that the reference to 'on the way to work’ had somewhat surprised Travkin and she had conveyed this to her boss Helena Borodin. They quickly tracked down the reason for Pyotr’s surprise and a team had been dispatched to deal with the loose end.

  However Pyotr and Alexa were already in the car with the engine running as that order was issued.

  “OK, nearest US government agency it is then!”

  “Yep,” agreed Alexa.

  Pyotr selected reverse and hit the accelerator. Whether it was selecting the gear or pushing the accelerator that ended his life, he’d never know. The explosion that destroyed any link between Borodin, GRU, SVR and Sean Fox was massive and incinerated Alexa and Pyotr instantly.

  General Yuri Borodin, Head of Russia’s GRU, didn’t hold power in one of Russia’s most powerful offices by chance. The text message from the freelance assassin he had hired the previous day informed him that his loose end had been tightened. He checked the time. His own team would be arriving in Laredo shortly. One of the other benefits of being the boss of GRU was that you had your own 'private’ army on call – Russia’s Spetsnaz troops, over twelve thousand special forces, were under Borodin’s direct control.

  Chapter 24

  As the door crashed open, Miguel’s corpse answered Luis’ first question. At least he knew Miguel wasn’t being disrespectful or stupid. Death was pretty much the only acceptable reason for not answering the call.

  His two men moved cautiously into the hallway as Luis waited by the front door for the all clear. The sound of footsteps from upstairs caught their attention and Luis’ men had their weapons swinging towards the staircase as they both crouched ready for whoever was going to appear.

  “Come down with your hands up!” shouted Luis authoritively, peeking his head into the hallway. His Desert Eagle .50 pistol also drawn and ready. Its size was ludicrous in comparison to Luis but as a drug dealer and nephew of El Jefe, he liked to look the part and the power it projected helped his confidence and standing with the men, or so he believed.

  ***

  Katie looked at Sean for guidance as the shout reverberated up the staircase. He patted his belt uselessly, the Glock sat by the front door, exactly where the shouts were coming from.

  “They were definitely not police?” asked Sean quietly.

  “I’ve seen the truck before, it’s Los Zetas” she replied adamantly.

  Sean looked around. “Weapons?”

  “All downstairs, locked in the gun cabinet,” she replied, the tears beginning to well again.

  “Shit!”

  “We do have a four year old!” she replied angrily, justifying her rule of no guns anywhere but in the safe.

  “If you don’t come down in the ten seconds, your son dies!” That shout had Katie running past Sean’s outstretched grip and down the stairs in an instant.

  “Shit!” he said to himself, as she escaped his grasp. He stood waiting for the gunfire but none came. They didn’t open fire on her. He didn’t know much about the Mexican cartels but was fairly sure they’d be like any other gang. If you kill one of theirs, they killed you.

  With no gunfire, Sean was left with a dilemma. Should he join her? They didn’t know he was there. At least they didn’t know Sean Fox was there. They may suspect somebody else was there. She may tell them. She was a mother trying to save her child but she also thought he was her husband. So she may not. Sean swayed one way then another. He could slip out of a back window and come back through the front, grab his Glock and take them out. Or, she could be raped and killed within the next few minutes, not something he wanted on his conscience. They of course may have the boy with them and kill them both.

  The slap that he heard next stopped any further thoughts. He couldn’t listen to her being beaten and do nothing. A second slap, even louder had Sean moving.

  “I’m coming down!” he shouted and with his hands in the air walked slowly down the stairs. At least if he were in the mix, they had a chance. Better to die a stupid hero than a coward, he thought.

  ***

  Luis slapped the bitch again, evening up the redness of the cheeks. She fell to the floor and began to sob loudly.

  “Who did this?” he asked again grabbing her long blonde hair and pulling her to her feet.

  The shout from upstairs made him jump which, thankfully, his men failed to notice as they once again swiveled expertly towards the staircase.

  As the man appeared on the staircase, Luis caught his breath. It couldn’t be, he had watched his uncle carve this man to pieces. He had watched every grizzly minute of it and had sleepless nights ever since because of it. This man was dead.

  The man to Luis’ right had been with them that day and he could see that he too was reacting in the same way. It couldn’t be. He could also see how nervously he was training his weapon on the man they knew as Sean Fox.

  “Hold your fire!” he said with as much command as the shakiness of his voice would allow.

  “Don’t hit her again,” warned Sean, pointing to Luis.

  Luis subconsciously stepped away from Katie. The sight of the ghost of Sean Fox brought back many old tales he had heard as a child during the day of the dead festival.

  “But you are…” stammered Luis.

  Sean could see he had completely freaked two of the Mexicans. The other was struggling to comprehend what was freaking out his two colleagues while trying to keep his weapon trained on him.

  “Sean Fox,” replied Sean, his hand outstretched as he walked towards Luis. “Pleased to meet you!”

  “Dead!” continued Luis, looking down at the outstretched hand in disbelief.

  After a couple of seconds, Sean withdrew his hand and moved towards Katie.

  “I think she’s mine,” Sean reached down and helped Katie her to her feet.

  Luis finally pulled himself together and shook off the tales of dead rising, devils and whatever other nonsense his head had been filled with as a child and aimed his Desert Eagle at Sean’s head.

  “I watched Sean Fox die, who the fuck are you?!” he said with some conviction.

  Sean reckoned if he were going to be shot, they’d already have killed them. For whatever reason, they hadn’t come to shoot in retaliation. There was something they needed. Sean’s contacts. Katie had mentioned that was why they were keeping an eye on her.

  “Let’s talk about James,” replied Sean taking control and walking towards the living room, ignoring the huge barrel that was staring him in the face.

  Sean led Katie away and the two Mexicans looked at Luis for direction. He nodded acceptance and signaled them to follow. He needed to know what had happened. He could save face later if there was a later, depending on how El Jefe reacted to what he was about to uncover.

  The sight of the bullet-ridden wall and the body of another Los Zetas was not a pleasant welcome for Luis, payments would need to be made to the man’s family. Los Zetas always looked after the family of the fallen. Two down, two large payments, Luis’ mood worsened.

  “Please, sit down.” Sean waved towards one of the sofas, inviting the Mexicans to take a seat.

  Only Luis sat down. His two men took up positions either side of the living room, their weapons ready.

  “What happened to my men?”

  “Your men?” asked Sean quizzically.

/>   “My uncle’s men,” he clarified automatically and immediately chastised himself inwardly for falling for such an obvious trick.

  “So you are the nephew of the boss of Los Zetas!” teased Sean, adding very deliberately and slowly. “That must make you a very important person, very powerful!”

  Sean didn’t watch Luis, he watched his men. If they understood English they would react to what he said. One man did, a smirk appeared on his face. That told Sean everything he needed to know. This guy was the boss’ nephew but commanded little respect and whatever he did was thanks to his uncle.

  “Yes it does!” said Luis with some conviction and confidence. “So what happened to my men?”

  “I killed them!”

  “Why?”

  “They pointed their guns at me!” smiled Sean looking towards the two gunmen.

  Both gunmen flinched. Hector and Miguel were experienced ex-soldiers and would not have been easily killed.

  Luis was taken aback by Sean’s candor. He expected a little more contrition in the current situation. He had two men covering them with guns and had their child hostage. Yet he felt he was the underdog.

  He raised his gun and pointed it at Katie.

  “I don’t think you are fully appreciating your position,” threatened Luis.

  “Whoa!” Sean raised his hands, he had played him too hard. “Sorry, I promise, I fully appreciate our position. I didn’t catch your name?”

  Luis’ hand began to shake ever so slightly as he held the massive pistol aloft. He willed himself to pull the trigger but couldn’t. He had never killed anyone before. Starting with an unarmed helpless woman wasn’t going to be the easiest of first kills. Sean’s timely and quick intervention was going to save his reputation in front of his men. As far as they knew, he would have done it.

  “Luis, my name is Luis,” offered Luis bringing the gun back down, his arm muscles welcoming the move.