Sidorov’s brow shot up. “You’re joking.”
I shook my head and continued. I thought about Hannah and what she wanted me to say if it came down to it. If it was just about me, I would have confessed everything, but Hannah didn’t want that, so I fought the urge and related exactly what she’d asked me to.
“That doesn’t make sense, Mr. Karras. Why would she leave with you, a man she didn’t even know and who was obviously involved in a dangerous situation?” Sidorov wondered aloud.
“Well, I apologized for that, and told her she could be in danger if she stayed there alone, that I didn’t know who else might have been watching me. She was a loose end; she could identify the man who had broken in, possibly tie him back to Dmitri. Hannah was frightened, and I guess she would rather have taken her chances with me than with Dmitri’s men. That’s it.”
“That’s hardly it,” Sidorov said. “We have the two of you on surveillance video at a bank ATM over seventy-five miles away near Cle Elum, Washington. Ms. Maguire appeared to be very upset. While you seemed to be…oh, I don’t know, in control, I’d say.”
“Of course she was upset,” I answered, the lies coming much easier. “She’d just been through a traumatic experience, and neither one of us knew what to do. I was simply trying to…help her out. That’s all.”
Sidorov offered me a slight smile. “Ah yes, the Good Samaritan. Such an interesting way to look at it.” He shook his head and rifled through his legal pad, checking his extensive list of notes. After a brief pause, he looked up and said, “And what happened in Biggs, Oregon exactly?” His eyes returned to the pad and pointed to a particular line. “It seems you registered in your name and secured the room with her credit card.” He looked up from his notes, his brow drawn up in question. “Though you forgot to pay in cash as you promised the clerk, that is, before you gunned down a man in your room and fled…again.”
“No, I paid him cash. I just asked him not to run her card through. I was afraid Chernov’s goons might be following us. And they were. That was Dmitri’s man at the motel, the same one from Hannah’s house. He broke in and fired his gun, even pulled a knife. I just fired back in self-defense.”
Sidorov smiled like a cat with a canary. I’d stepped into his trap, admitting I’d killed the intruder. “I see,” he said. “And where did you get the gun?”
“It was Nick’s. He gave it to me for protection before Hannah and I left.”
“Aw, that’s touching. But while he was shot in the stomach with a gun we have not yet recovered, the victim was actually killed by a round to the head, and we believe the gun used to kill him belonged to the dead man himself. I’m curious how that happened.” He sat back in his seat, his pen tapping against the legal pad. “Tell me, whose prints will we pull off that gun, do you suppose? Yours, by any chance?”
“Yes, most likely. After I clipped him the first time, I took his gun away to protect myself and Hannah, but even injured, he attacked me again. Like I said, he pulled a knife. So I shot him. His gun proved to be much more effective than mine.”
Sidorov stopped writing and looked up from his notes. He clasped his hands and rested them on the pad. “My, my, you have an answer for everything, don’t you?”
I shrugged. “Just telling you how it happened.”
“Is that so? Well, then, tell me why Dmitri Chernov wanted to kill you and your brother?”
I shook my head and offered him a weak smile. “I don’t know exactly. It seemed to me like an overreaction to a mere disagreement, but those Russian boys are serious about their work, and they hated me for coming in between them and Nick.” I shrugged again.
Sidorov smiled, like he didn’t believe a word I said. “Why were you and Ms. Maguire at the Four Seasons here in The City,” he persisted, skipping from one incident to the next in what I was sure was an attempt to trip me up.
Another casual shrug. “Just a place to decompress before I met with Dmitri about my brother.”
“What about your brother?” He referred to his notes once more. “You said earlier that you left him back at the motel in Issaquah, Washington, correct?” He peeked up at me.
I nodded. “Right.”
“What happened to him, then? How did he end up in Chernov’s cage?”
“Nick drove back here to try to talk sense into Dmitri, so he would call off his dogs. But it didn’t work,” I said, the anger and bitterness seeping back into my voice. “Agent Sidorov, earlier tonight, Nick told me that he’d fought his first bout two nights ago, and that last night, he was forced to fight again. Besides being a mess physically, he was pretty upset about it. He thought he might have killed the poor bastard, but he felt he had no choice. It was either kill or be killed, something you, in your two years of investigation and being undercover, should have known before going into that warehouse. If you had, we might not be here tonight, and my brother might still be alive.”
He ignored my comment and stared hard at me with his chin jutting out and his lips pressed tight, like I’d struck a nerve. “And what about Ms. Maguire?” he countered.
The tic in my jaw began to work as I stared back. “What about her?”
“Well, you said she was under your protection, yet she turns up at the hospital, beaten and raped. Brutalized even.”
I gasped at the insensitive way in which he revealed the details of Hannah’s assault.
“You do know what that means, don’t you, Mr. Karras?”
I couldn’t look at him, I was so disturbed and angry. “Yes,” I answered under my breath.
“Do you?” he asked again more urgently.
“Yes!” I screamed, lifting my head and staring him in the eye.
He leaned forward and raised his brow. “Well then, I’d say your services leave a lot to be desired. So tell me what happened? How did she end up like that?”
I clenched my hands together to keep from lunging across the table, but I think Sidorov was purposely baiting me, so I leaned back in my seat and cooled my temper before I spoke.
“Since both Nick and I were all Dmitri really wanted, I arranged for Hannah to fly back home. I arranged for her car to be shipped back to her home, then bought her an airline ticket, and hired transportation to the airport and an escort to see her through to security. We said our goodbyes, and she left. Afterwards, I took a taxi to Dmitri’s Tea House out on Geary, as we had arranged, but it was evident pretty quickly that he wasn’t interested in anything I had to say.”
Agent Sidorov stopped writing and looked at me above his glasses. “How so?” he asked.
“Well, two of his men beat the shit out of me, threw me and Nick into a van, drove us to that bloody warehouse, and dumped us each in a cage. Then they made me watch as some fucking thug beat my brother to death,” I said, glaring contemptuously at him for asking. “Afterwards, I was… forced...to do something…something I never thought I’d ever do to another human being.” My eyes flitted from one man to the next as I gauged their reaction.
All three men stared back, silent, waiting. I remained stone quiet for several uncomfortable moments before I pulled myself together and finished.
“I didn’t know that Dmitri had gotten to Hannah at the hotel. I didn’t know until right before the fight began. They paraded her out on the gallery for me to see. It was...distressing, to say the least.” I shook my head, and my jaw flexed in silent rage. “Hannah didn’t tell me what had happened, and I didn’t ask. I could tell just by looking at her.” I paused again, trying to calm the fire that burned inside me as I remembered Hannah standing on the walkway above the arena.
“They brought her there for no other reason than to get to me, Agent Sidorov.” I turned away, unable to look him in the eye. “And it did,” I admitted with a nod. “It got to me.”
For a few moments, all I could hear was Sidorov scratching notes on his pad. Then he placed his pen down and sighed through his nose. “Did you kill all those men, Mr. Karras?” Sidorov asked directly. He paused and waited fo
r me to respond. “It would be...understandable if you had, to save your own life, to save Ms. Maguire.”
I couldn’t respond. I just sat there looking at my hands resting on the table. I felt Sidorov staring at me. After a few silent minutes, he began to pack up his things.
“All right, that’s all for now. An officer will be in shortly to escort you to your cell. We’ll speak again sometime tomorrow.” He glanced at his watch and huffed. “Or later today.”
My shoulders sagged and I let out a long breath, relieved that he wasn’t going to push me any further. I caught his arm as he passed me on his way out.
“Agent Sidorov, if it’s at all possible, would you find out how Hannah is doing and let me know...please?”
Sidorov hesitated then nodded before he left.
Chapter Forty-Six
Tyler
I spent a difficult night in jail. Violent tremors wracked my body and didn’t even begin to ease until the following noon hour. At that point, I might have been able to hold a spoon and eat my lunch if it weren’t for the nausea that tightened my belly, or the imaginary insects that continued to startle me as they crawled out from my food. I think I was on my seventh straight day without meaningful sleep, but I couldn’t be sure. The pounding that had been hammering around in my head the previous four days had ramped way up in the last few hours, but thankfully began to mellow as the tremors faded to a slow simmer. The only thing that made the morning bearable was the news I received from Sidorov: Hannah was resting comfortably and would be all right.
I was allowed to shower, and I shaved for the first time in nearly three weeks. My grey beard—which aged me considerably—was replaced by the cuts and bruises beneath. I hardly recognized my reflection in the mirror. As I looked myself in the eye, I no longer saw the man I used to be. He was gone. I was afraid I would never see him again. In his place was a shell, a ghost. And I cried knowing I had thrown everything away.
I was escorted back to the same small interview room late that afternoon. Only Agent Sidorov was in attendance when I arrived. He stood and greeted me with a firm handshake, ignoring the soft quaking of my hands and the beads of perspiration across my forehead and lip. He took a seat and got right down to business.
“Did you receive my message about Ms. Maguire’s condition?” he asked.
“Yes, I did. Thank you.”
“You’re welcome. Now, Mr. Karras, taking into consideration all that you’ve been through and all that you’ve most likely done yourself, the Bureau has decided to offer you a deal.”
I snorted. “And what if I don’t like your deal?” I asked, unsure if I should be grateful or not.
He pulled back in his seat. “Well then, the Bureau would have no choice but to prosecute you on multiple charges of murder and interfering in an investigation, as well as kidnapping and conspiracy charges. All of which would be federal, of course, each very serious with severe penalties. At best, you’re looking at thirty years. Worst case? Well, let’s just say that kidnapping across state lines with bodily harm is a capital offense.” With his brow raised, he gave me a tight-lipped grin.
“Right,” I replied stiffly. I was no fool. Without Hannah’s cooperation, I knew the kidnapping charges probably wouldn’t stick, but the others had me worried. “What’s your offer then?” I asked.
“You may not have heard yet but, Dmitri Chernov was arrested early this morning. After two years, we feel we have a significant case against him for illegal gambling, tax evasion, extortion, human trafficking, and even federal murder. Given your insight into his organization over the last few years, as well as personally witnessing the events that took place last evening, we would like you to provide testimony against him at both the evidentiary hearing and at trial.”
I was about to interrupt when Sidorov raised a finger, delaying me a moment while he finished.
“In exchange for your testimony, we will withdraw all current charges against you and offer you the government’s services within the witness protection program, including a new identity, relocation, job training and placement, as well as protection, of course. But I must warn you, you will have to cut all ties from your current life, and you will not be allowed to contact anyone from your past. Since your immediate family is all…deceased, I imagine it will be easier for you than most.” He paused, gauging me for a reaction. “So, what do you think, Mr. Karras?” He smiled, like he was doing me some great favor.
I stared at him for a long time then sat back in my seat. “I think I should consult with an attorney.”
“Well, that would be your prerogative, of course, but I urge you toward haste. Mr. Chernov’s attorney is currently working to get him released on bail,” Sidorov explained then paused for effect, “from the same unit where you are being held. I’m not sure which is more dangerous for you: Chernov here in jail or out on bail. You should be safe in here, but I can’t guarantee that. You know how it is. And I can’t guarantee that bail won’t be granted either. As you know, Chernov is a man of great influence and an even greater propensity toward violence. It seems he has quite the vendetta against you. So the faster we make this deal, the quicker we can get you out of here and make you safe.”
“What vendetta?” I asked. “He got what he wanted. Nick’s dead. What more could he possibly want from me?”
“Oh, quite a bit more,” he said. Then he tilted his head, looking a bit confused. “You don’t know? Your brother never shared your father’s secret?”
“My father? What are you talking about? What does he have to do with any of this?”
“Everything, apparently. Our sources have determined a link between your father and Dmitri Chernov.”
“That’s insane. My father had never even stepped foot in San Francisco before the day he arrived here, the same day he was killed in a car accident. He didn’t know Chernov.”
“It seems he did, Mr. Karras. Chernov came to the U.S. by way of London some eighteen years ago, two years after your father unexpectedly moved your family to Melbourne.”
“So, what does one have to do with the other? I don’t see a connection.”
“Three months before your family relocated to Australia, your father testified in court against one Mikhail Chernov on murder and racketeering charges. Chernov was convicted and sentenced to twenty years in prison. Unfortunately, he didn’t get the opportunity to serve that sentence. He was murdered by a rival within the first month of confinement. Mikhail’s younger brother, Dmitri, held your father responsible and put a contract out on his life, but your father had already disappeared. Not long afterwards, Dmitri and his younger half-brother, Alexi Batalov—with whom he shared a mother—came to the U.S. and set up shop in San Francisco’s Outer Richmond District. You can imagine their surprise when, seventeen years later, your brother, Nick, fell right into their lap.”
I shook my head. “No, there’s no way. I would have known about this, about my father.”
“What do you remember about the months before you left England?” Sidorov asked. “What was life like at home?”
“It was fine. I mean, there was nothing different. Not really. My father was just stressed about his job, that’s all. He was an accountant with a big firm in London. Then all of a sudden, he took a promotion and we packed for the move. My mum was upset, at first. She didn’t want to leave, but once we did, she never looked back. In fact, she never…she never…” I stopped and search my memory. “Oh God, she never did go back. Not once. Even to visit her family. My father wouldn’t allow it. And when I finished at university and told him I was returning, he forbid me. Said it wasn’t safe. I never even thought to question him about it. Oh my God, all those years. He never said a word.”
“And what about your brother?” Sidorov asked. “Nick never said anything to you about Dmitri and Alexi knowing your father?”
“No, never. Not once. He couldn’t possibly have known. Nick would never have gone to work for them if he had.”
“Are you sure about tha
t? He wasn’t forced to join their ranks?”
“Yes, well…I mean, he had no choice. They forced him in, but it was to pay off his debt from the robbery. At least, that’s what he said, or what he intimated anyway. He said it was… He said…” I paused again, rooting around my head for my brother’s exact words. “Bloody hell. Nick said it was more complicated than I knew. Oh my God, he knew. He knew, and he didn’t tell me.” I laid my face in my hands. “Oh, Nick. My God. What did you do?”
“When Nick robbed that store, he brought them right to your door. I have a feeling, once Nick knew who they were and what they wanted, he tried to protect you—from them, from the “sins” of your father, so to speak. An eye for an eye sort of thing. Only it was first born son for first born son. And Nick stepped in. Am I right, Mr. Karras? Did your brother sacrifice himself in a last bid attempt to appease Dmitri Chernov and Alexi Batalov for the death of their oldest brother?”
I thought about the possibility and wanted to toss it out of hand, but there were too many things Nick had said that clicked into place. When we spoke on the phone and I begged him to let me help him. “I’m so sorry, Tyler. Do you see now? This is why I don’t want you to come after me. You were right all along. I just get in the way. And that’s just the half of it,” he’d said. “You don’t know, Ty. You just don’t know...” And then right before his last fight at the cages, he’d said, “No worries. I got this. I know what I have to do now. I’m going to take care of things for once in my life. My last gift to you, brother.” I pleaded with him to fight, but he said, “Someone has to appease the gods.”
It was true. My God, Nick had sacrificed himself for me. Tears flooded my eyes and poured over my cheeks.
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