by Brian Meeks
Jack let Pytor lead and make the introductions. It was a brief meeting as everything was proceeding as planned. Pytor and Jack went back and sat on the hood of his car. Pytor held out his pack of cigarettes and said, “It was a good call.”
Jack took one, lit it, and pinched it between his fingers. “The Americans…” he paused. Having been among them for so long, it was good to say the word with contempt again. “The Americans don’t know a damn thing about making smokes. When I was a kid in Moscow, we used to steal Turkish cigarettes from my buddy’s father. Those were good smokes. And yes, it was the right decision.”
“The parts are good to have, but the reports and formulas are what is important. What do you think the Navy will do after they hear of Matthew’s unfortunate demise?”
Jack blew out the smoke and shrugged. “They will probably cancel the contract and never take delivery. It is too bad.”
“Yes, it would have set their sub program back a year or two when they realized their new super parts and gauges were mostly defective.”
“Don’t feel too bad, comrade, it was still a fine idea to switch out the defective parts for the good ones. What will you do when we get back home?”
Pytor had thought of nothing else all day. He didn’t want to talk about it, so he just shrugged.
“I think I'll spend my days just talking with anyone who will listen. Hours and hours of speaking with Russians in Russian about Russia. I can’t wait. Then I will drink.”
Pytor laughed. “We had better get moving.”
They both got in the car and drove off just as the doors to the loading dock bays were being closed. The trucks would head to their contacts at the docks while they went to Matthew’s office.
Once at the office Pytor retrieved the thick file folder of reports, specifications, and testing data. Jack held out his hand. Pytor gave him the file, then joked, “You think you can read this scientific stuff?”
Jack sneered, “I can read it well enough. Don’t you worry about it.” He was getting tired and knew they had much to do before the sun came up. He didn’t appreciate the comment. Jack brushed past Pytor and left without another word. His mind returned to Celine and his plans for her. The memory of the ribbing he received from Gilbert was still burning him despite having just shot him in the face. He wished he had been able to torture the bastard for a while first.
Pytor let it go, not really sure if he outranked Jack or not. Pytor made a mental note to find out as soon as they were home. He was not used to disrespect, and it left a bad taste in his mouth, but not so much as to make an issue right now.
CHAPTER 78
Henry picked up the phone expecting it would be Jack. “Hello.”
“Did you get my note?”
Henry didn’t recognize the voice. The caller sounded shaky. “I’m sorry, who is this?”
“It’s William. I couldn’t wait around all day for you to show up.”
Something about William's attitude touched a nerve. “Wait around all day? I don’t have time for you. What do you want?”
William, in a phone booth, was filthy after days on the street and barely recognizable to anyone who had known him. The cocksure stock broker had been beaten down by fear. Still, he wasn’t used to being talked to this way. He found his voice and said, “Mr. Wood, I saw the guy who shot those two other guys in your building. I know where he went after he left. Maybe that is something worth your time?” He said with a sneer in his voice.
Henry still didn’t like the guy, but he was his only lead. Henry apologized, “I’m sorry…William, is it? Where did he go?”
It was a rush berating a new broker and breaking his spirit. William sensed his old self returning. “That’s better. I followed him after he left the bar, and he went to…You have a piece of paper?”
“Go ahead.”
William was in a booth a hundred yards from the building he had been watching. He hadn’t figured out the address before calling. His bravado slipped away. “Just a second…” William sheepishly admitted he couldn’t see the address.
This was trying Henry’s patience. “Just tell me where you're at?”
William described the corner. A car rolled past, and it made him nervous again. “Listen, I’ve got to go.”
Henry could tell he was losing William. His pulse quickened. “Stay with me, William. Is he alone?”
“He isn’t there anymore.”
Henry wanted to reach through the phone and strangle him. “William, it isn’t safe for you on the street. I have a place; nobody knows about it. Can you wait there while I send someone to bring you in?” Henry was shooting from the hip. Lawrence could go find William and bring him back. Then Henry could find out what he knew.
William just wanted to hang up the phone and disappear into the shadows. He almost did just that, but the voice in his head said it was his best chance of surviving. “I’ll come to you.”
Henry thought about it for a second and realized that would be much better. He didn’t really want to leave the phone in case Jack called. “Okay, just a second…” Henry put his mouth over the phone and looked at Bobby. “He wants to come to us.”
Bobby said, “Tell him to go to the corner of East 20th and 5th Avenue, the north side. I’ll meet him there.”
Henry said, “William, I’m sending my friend to meet you at E 20th and 5th Avenue. His name is Bobby.”
“You got any food at this place?”
Henry still wanted to strangle him but was worried he might disappear again. “You go meet Bobby. He’ll bring you here, to me, where it's safe, and we’ll find you something to eat. Okay?”
“I’ll be there soon.”
Henry hung up the phone.
“He says he knows where Jack went after the shooting, but he’s gone now. Lawrence, you go with Bobby. Here’s a twenty; I think there is a 24-hour deli across the street.”
Bobby loved being part of the gang. “There is! It is great; I go there all the time and…”
Henry interrupted, “Great, pick up something and bring it back with you. I'm going to stay here and watch the phone.”
After they were gone, Henry started to pace. Why hadn’t Jack called? Henry knew his type. Jack was a man who didn’t like to lose. Henry had embarrassed him pretty well. It made sense he would want revenge, to get back his pride. It was the only motive that made sense. Celine wasn’t of any value otherwise.
Henry played it out in his head. He imagined the call, how he would react and what he would say. If anything happened to Celine, it would be his fault. The call had given him hope, albeit slight.
CHAPTER 79
Mike was feeling anxious. He hadn't had a chance to read the note, and he knew it was important. He needed to get away from the crowd to someplace quiet. He went back inside and called to the rookie standing by the bodies. "Follow me, patrolman."
He looked relieved to have something to do. It was late, and his shift had ended hours ago. "Yes, sir."
When they got to Henry's office, Mike showed him inside and recounted the story Henry had given him. "You understand that Henry Wood is our prime suspect right now. He is also a close personal friend."
The patrolman nodded, not sure why he was there but happy to hear the details.
Mike continued, "Close friend or not, if he is guilty, I'm sworn to uphold the law. Sorry, what's your name?"
"Patrolman Josh Hopkins, sir," he said, not remembering if any detective had ever asked him his name.
"You can see where one of those bastard lawyers could use our friendship in court?"
"Yes, sir."
"Call me Mike."
"Sure thing, Mike."
Mike was laying it on pretty thick to seal the deal. "I want you to look around the office and see if there is anything you notice that is different from what I told you or that I missed."
Josh couldn't believe it. A detective asking his opinion was unheard of; usually, they just wanted coffee. He wanted to run downstairs and tell his bud
dies, but he put on his game face. "Sure thing, Mike." He walked around Celine's desk and stepped on Button's tail. A black fur ball shot out from under the desk. "Sorry, cat, I didn't see you there." As he said it, he heard himself talking to a cat in front of the detective and could imagine how silly he looked. His face started to shift to a hue of red generally found on caps in Cincinnati.
Mike smiled and said, "His name is Buttons; he is a good cat. I'm confident he'll forgive you."
Josh felt better and reached down and ran his hand across Buttons’ back. Buttons purred; apology accepted. Josh went back to inspecting the office. He looked behind the painting of the White House and found the wires. "Look at this, detective."
Mike was impressed. Henry had mentioned the bugs, but they hadn't found this one. "Good find, detective...er patrolman." Mike was good.
Josh could barely contain his smile and turned away. He walked into the back office and looked out the window. "The street lights are pretty bright, and it's easy to see someone crossing. His story seems plausible."
"I agree, but again, I'm biased. I want you to write up a report detailing your findings and observations. Can you do that for me?"
Josh would have run through fire for Mike at this point and said, "Sure thing, Mike."
"Josh, what do you think? We should probably get the photographer up here to get a few shots, especially the bug you found."
Mike had a deft touch. Josh said, "I think we should. I'll go get him." He literally bolted down the hall. Mike took out the note from Henry.
We are in the basement, sort of. I'll explain later. Bobby got my phone line switched down here to his secret lair.
Mike put the piece of paper back in his pocket, not at all sure what the hell Henry was talking about. Secret lair?
Josh quickly returned with the photographer, a man in his 60’s who had been with the force for around 1000 years. He didn’t believe in walking briskly unless he was lining up for a buffet.
Mike gave a nod to the photographer and said to Josh, “Make sure you two get every angle of the office and especially the bug you found. I'm leaving you in charge.”
The photographer had no idea why this detective was treating the patrolman like he was, but he didn’t care either. He put in a new bulb and popped a shot of the outer office.
“When you get done here, I want you to write up a full report and seal off the office.”
“What about the cat?”
“His bowl is in the corner; give him some more food and check his water.”
Buttons said, “Meow,” and went and stood by the bowl.
Josh’s shoulders drooped. He felt like a rookie again.
The photographer laughed, and Mike closed the door on his way out. He walked down the hall until he got to Bobby’s door. A quick look behind him, and he slipped inside. He had never seen the jungle that was Bobby’s office and had no idea what to make of it all. Fortunately, he was tall enough to see over the pile of Life magazines and notice the phone near the door to the back office. He picked up the receiver and dialed Henry’s number. It rang once.
“Hello,” Henry said cautiously.
“What is this about a secret lair?”
“Hey, Mike, I’m glad you called. I’ll explain it all later; right now I need to get off the phone. We think we know where the shooter, Jack, went afterward. The guy who saw Pytor shoot the lumber baron, John Fleming, is coming in, and he may know where Jack went.”
“What?!” Mike almost shouted, “You know who murdered John Fleming?” His tone was unmistakable.
“I’m sorry Mike. I should have told you. He came to me a couple of days ago, but he was out of his mind. I went to meet him, and he wasn’t there. I wasn’t sure he was credible. I’m still not, but he says he saw Jack leave after the shots, and he followed him. Mike, Celine is missing and I’m afraid he is going to use her to come after me. We need to find Jack.”
The near panic in Henry’s voice was all Mike needed to get on board. He knew his friend wouldn’t keep something so important from him unless it was necessary. “Okay, what do you need from me?”
Henry gave him the address of the phone booth. Mike agreed to check it out and call him when he got there. Henry hoped that William would be able to give them something more concrete to go on.
Henry hung up and waited for the next call, which he hoped would be Jack making his next move.
CHAPTER 80
Pytor asked, “Why are we bothering with Richard and Charles?”
Jack sneered, “It is above your pay grade.”
Pytor had just dined with Nikita Khrushchev and Alexander Shelepin. Who does he think he is? Pytor fumed to himself. The mission had been clear when they set out. The two deep undercover agents were to be in charge. Oleg and he were there to make the operation run smoothly. Pytor didn’t imagine he would be so young. He expected a more experienced agent or, at the very least, one whose entire experience didn’t consist of working for the CIA.
“So you want me to drive to Richard’s place now?”
“I thought you were supposed to be one of our best agents? Do they teach ‘stupid’ questions at the KGB? It’s a good thing they are bringing me home; it seems there needs to be a serious evaluation of personnel and policy.”
Pytor suppressed his anger. We will see who is evaluating whom, he thought. Pytor drove along without saying another word but replaying the events of the evening in his mind. He was building quite a list of ill-advised moves by his young comrade.
Jack kept playing his date with Celine over and over in his mind. He had been incredibly charming. She had looked beautiful. The conversation had been sharp, and, by the end of the meal, he was quite looking forward to the night that lay ahead. They had gone dancing and afterward he suggested, none too subtly, a little romance. She had flatly refused, saying something about wanting to get to know him. For thirty minutes he pressed, and she resisted. Eventually, he saw her to her building door and was rewarded with a spectacular kiss. Then she went inside alone. He was furious. When Gilbert found out and then proceeded to mock him, it made him insane with rage.
Now, as Pytor drove towards Richard’s penthouse apartment, Jack was deciding if he should torture him just to feel better. He looked briefly at Pytor, knowing he would say something about torture not being necessary for the mission. He hated him for it. It was his call after all, and he doubted Pytor would ever say a thing against him. He smiled to himself.
CHAPTER 81
The strange man with the gun had untied Celine’s hands after setting the omelet, bacon, and juice on the table. She said thank you but wasn’t sure if he heard her. He acted like he didn’t. She stared at the food for a minute, afraid it might be poisoned but reasoned he was the sort of man to look one in the eye. She was hungry and sobbed as she ate.
Celine had last cried when she was eight. Her neighbor, Mr. Jackson, was a nice black man in his 80’s. He told stories and let her help him with his garden and plants. Every day during the summer she helped him water the outside plants, then they would take care of the indoor ones. After that they ate cookies. She really loved the indoor ones; they were called bonsai. He had kept some of them for over 50 years. One day, she knocked his favorite one over, and it fell to the ground. The fall broke off one of the big limbs, and dirt was everywhere. She felt so awful and tried to put the tree back together. Mr. Jackson came in from the kitchen and saw the tears streaming down her face. “It’ll be alright, little one; never you pay it no mind. This tree is a strong one, just like you. It’ll be fine.”
She stopped crying when he asked her to but still didn’t feel any better. Celine went home and told her mother what she had done and the tears started up again. Despite her best efforts, her mother couldn’t make Celine stop. She was proud of her daughter for admitting what she had done. Eventually, she took Celine back to Mr. Jackson’s house, and they brought him a new plant. Celine tried to explain that it wasn’t the same thing, but Mr. Jackson said he loved it. M
r. Jackson sat Celine down and they talked but not like they usually did. He looked her in the eyes, like he did with the grownups. He had told her how it was okay to be sad but to save her tears for the really important things.
Celine’s feet were still tied to the bed, but he hadn’t come back to retie her hands. She lay there, sobbing, with the pillow over her face. Celine worried about dying, then she thought about Buttons and cried more. He was probably wondering where she was and why she hadn’t gotten his dinner. Somehow, letting down Buttons seemed worse than dying.
In the other room, Oleg wondered about the woman. He had seen trained agents beg for their lives when they knew the end was upon them. All men fold when staring eternity in the face. He wondered why she was trying so hard to hide it. Such a strange thing, this American woman, he thought as he cleaned his other gun. It didn’t matter.
CHAPTER 82
Henry became more and more agitated as the minutes rolled past, and the phone said nothing. He paced and worried. Finally, it rang. “Hello.”
“Henry, I've been calling you all night. You're still at work? Trying to solve the case of the blonde bombshell?!”
“Hello, Luna, it isn't a good time.”
“It doesn't seem like you have much time for me anymore.”
“Listen, Luna, I'm expecting a call. I really need to get off the phone.”
“It's the middle of the night! Who's calling now?” Luna’s voice was getting louder with each question.
“Luna, it's Celine. She’s missing.” Henry said, not trying to hide his worry.
There was a brief silence. “Oh, Henry, I'm such a fool. I didn't know. What happened?”
“I think it's a new guy she's seeing. He's a bad guy, and I think he's trying to get back at me.”
“For what?" she asked, her voice lowered.”
“It's a long story and I really have to go.”