No Law (Law #3)

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No Law (Law #3) Page 14

by Camille Taylor


  She nibbled on her lip as Dmitry ran his fingers through his dark hair in frustration, a frown creasing his forehead. “You get the egg. I have an idea.”

  She nodded, then looked in the kitchen for something to put the egg in, since the crate it had come in was too inconvenient and cumbersome. She hadn’t even had coffee yet, her mind barely functioning.

  Yeah, and you might want to put some clothes on too.

  She put the egg in a box along with some stuffing so it wouldn’t break, and grabbed her bra and jeans from the floor as she hurried down the hall into the bedroom and threw on a clean pair of panties and another shirt. She came back into the dining room, combing her hair with her fingers, to find Dmitry also fully dressed in the pants he’d worn yesterday, along with a black polo. He held a small Netbook laptop in his hands.

  “What are you doing with that? You heard Mikhail.”

  He nodded. “I did.” He grabbed his keys and handed them to her as she picked up her museum I.D. She didn’t bother with her cell or purse. Dmitry picked up the dinner set box, containing the egg and put the laptop between himself and the box, making it invisible to the eye.

  They didn’t talk at all in the elevator down. She hit the lock on the keychain and the indicator lights on his Ford Taurus flashed. She readjusted the driver’s seat as he climbed in beside her.

  “You think you can get us there in twenty-five minutes?”

  She nodded. “Sure.”

  She knew every possible way in and out of Hamilton Museum. She had spent the past few years exploring each and every avenue, which came in handy whenever there was an accident or traffic jam. As she drove, she kept an eye out for someone tailing them. Either no one was there, or they were extremely good at not being seen. Dmitry placed the box in the foot well on the passenger side between his feet and opened up the laptop.

  “What do you—”

  He raised his hand for silence, then reached over and turned on the radio, fiddling with the dials until he found a heavy metal station.

  “Relax, Carey, I know what I’m doing. He may have bugged the car so I didn’t want you to say anything until we were safe. Monitoring emails is extremely hard to do but it can be done, if given enough time to set it up. So I’m going to create a dummy account to send Lucas an email. The email filter will be watching my accounts, not a new one,” he added, already plugging in a small antenna he’d produced from his glove box as he talked.

  “So why not use your cell? I thought you said it was possible.”

  She remembered him saying something along those lines the day before, but she couldn’t be sure. Her mind was in a muddle, the events blurring together, and only one image remained. That one, pleasurable as it had been, wouldn’t help them right now.

  “This is the age of technology, malyshka, anything can be done,” he said. “But more than likely Mikhail has tagged my cell number and IP address so any communications I make will notify him of what I’m doing. Which was why I left the cell at home. This way I’m not using my wireless, but instead I’ll bounce off the satellite as we drive.”

  She nodded, and out of the corner of her eye she could see Dmitry tapping away at the keyboard. She was scared and wasn’t afraid to admit it. All she kept seeing was her husband’s dead body. She pushed the image aside and focused on the hostages. Were they still alive or would she find the corpses of her colleagues when she arrived?

  The memory of Alan’s body appeared in her head. She spared a glance at the monitor and noticed Dmitry was already well on his way to creating the false email account.

  “Hack Man?” she asked, looking at the first and last name he had given for the account.

  Dmitry shrugged. “Had to write something.”

  Navigating through the early morning commuters, she continued to keep an eye out for anyone following them. Was it her imagination, or did that black vehicle a few cars behind seem interested in her?

  “So, do we have a plan?” she asked.

  “That depends.”

  “On what?”

  He turned in his seat to face her. “On if I’m wasting my time here or not.”

  ***

  Dmitry had already brought up a new message. He quickly began typing, revealing the pertinent information without spelling it out in detail. He had to be careful, not knowing what keywords might be flagged or even if Mikhail had set up a program to monitor messages. It was better safe than sorry. Elena’s and Lucas’s CIA email addresses went into the to field.

  “How do we even know Elena and Lucas are going to get their emails within the next few minutes?” Carey asked. “We’re kind of on a time crunch here.”

  “I thought of that.” He quickly typed a code into the body of the email and hit send. “Luckily for us, I’m a computer genius who has spent more hours than I can count at the CIA writing codes for this type of situation.”

  “What does the code do?”

  “It’s basically a priority code, overriding all over emails on the server and will be pushed right through the CIA central mainframe and will sound out an alert on their cells.”

  Carey reached the road that led to the Hamilton Museum, and in short time she was driving through the gates. She slowed down as she made her way up the pebble drive like she had all the time in the world, giving him the last few seconds he needed, and parked the white Taurus in the staff parking section of Hamilton Museum. By the time she had applied the emergency brake, he had stored the Netbook under his seat and out of sight. He lifted up the box and exited the car, just seconds after her.

  “So, what exactly is our plan?” she asked again as he neared her.

  “We stall and hope like hell Lucas will bring the cavalry.”

  She nodded, and he wasn’t sure if that meant she agreed with his plan or not. He took her jaw gently with his fingers and kissed her hard on the mouth. When he was done he pulled back and stared into her surprised eyes.

  “I didn’t want you to forget what Mikhail interrupted, malyshka.”

  They walked to the entrance of the museum together, the box under his right hand, his left resting on the small of her back.

  “Of course not, dorogaya, how could I?” Carey replied, the words dripping with sweetness.

  He grinned at her sarcastic darling as she stepped through the door, placing the keys to his vehicle on the conveyor belt next to the x-ray machine. The museum was deserted, no guard manning the metal detector. The mansion was silent and the atmosphere eerie. He placed the box containing the egg down on the belt as well and followed Carey through the metal detector. The machine stayed silent.

  “It’s always bugged me how they managed to bypass this.”

  Dmitry had some ideas, none of which he shared. They collected their things from the end of the belt and made their way gingerly through the mansion. He could see the security cameras attached to the corners of each room and knew they were being watched. The mansion had three levels and from the sign he’d just passed, the first level along with the majority of the second were used as the main museum and viewing areas. The second also housed the security office. The third floor was off-limits to visitors, containing the offices—which he assumed also included Carey’s—and the preservation rooms. They were coming up to the first staircase when he caught movement out the corner of his eye. Carey noticed it too, and she swung around to face whoever it was.

  “Carey, is that you?” came the voice from the parlor. A young man with obvious Italian roots stood in the doorway, looking about the mansion warily.

  “Milo, what’s going on?” Carey asked, as she stepped closer to the terrified looking man.

  “Jesus, Carey, am I glad to see you. There are men in the museum and they’ve taken hostages. I managed to avoid detection and have called the police. They said they’re on their way and to stay clear until they get here.”

  Carey shook her head. “No, Milo, they said not to call anyone. This is going to get ugly. We have to get to Mikhail before he hears the sire
ns. Milo, you need to make a break for it.”

  Milo balked. “I can’t do that, I’m the head of security.”

  “Okay, then you have to help us. It’ll be good to have a man on the inside.”

  Dmitry refrained from saying he didn’t like the idea, instead following Carey as Milo led them up the stairs. He noticed there were no cameras pointed at the staircase. Carey was only a step behind Milo. She watched him closely and as soon as they were in the middle of the staircase she pushed him hard against the wall, while simultaneously grabbing the Glock from his belt holster and pressing the barrel into his chest. Hard. The man winced.

  “What the fuck?” Milo said, his eyes once more going wide. He tried to shrink away but couldn’t, not with his gun digging into his flesh.

  He quickly moved in close and flanked her in case she required assistance. Milo’s eyes remained wide as he took in his situation. While Dmitry wasn’t certain what she was doing, but trusted her and went along with it.

  “Do you think I’m stupid, Milo?” She took his pepper spray and handed it to Dmitry. “How is it that you evaded being taken hostage by the Russians? While we’re on that subject, where were you when they shot Brian?”

  “Jesus, Carey, I was with you, for fuck’s sake.”

  He tried to struggle, but she pushed the gun barrel into his chest harder. Dmitry glared at him and he stopped moving. He wasn’t sure if it was him or the gun that had changed his mind.

  “Before that, Milo. You weren’t at security when I called. Were you too busy dismantling the metal detectors so our new friends could get past without the sirens going off? Coincidence is one thing, but twice is a pattern.”

  So that’s where she was going with this. They had a mole inside the museum, probably keeping an eye on Brian or cataloguing the artifacts for a robbery.

  “I didn’t think they were going to kill him, Carey, I swear. I just thought they’d rough him up a little. You know, keep him in line.”

  “So you’re still on their payroll, then?”

  “It’s not easy to get out. I was des—”

  “You were greedy, Milo, that’s all.”

  His face turned ugly with rage. He glared at Carey and called her a bitch, pushed at her, intent on taking the gun back. With one hand, Dmitry grabbed Milo’s arm and twisted it behind his back. Before he could scream in agony, Carey clobbered him over the head with the butt of the gun. When he remained standing, yet dazed, she hit him again, this time harder and he crumpled to the floor unconscious.

  “Thanks,” she said.

  “No problem. Maybe next time you might forewarn me about your plans so I can be prepared.”

  She placed her hands on her hips. “I wasn’t planning that. It just sort of happened. I saw Milo and it all clicked into place.”

  “Like how the Russians were able to get past the metal detectors?”

  “Not once, but at least three times. It had to be someone on the inside. Milo was the logical choice.”

  He looked down at Milo. “What are we going to do with him? We can’t leave him here.”

  Carey pointed to a door at the top of the stairs and Dmitry handed her the box before lifting the man into a fireman’s lift, and followed Carey up the remaining stairs and past the door to find himself in a large cleaning supply cupboard.

  Switching on the light, he searched the shelves for rope or something to tie Milo up with. Carey tapped him on the arm. He turned to her and grinned. She’d found a roll of heavy-duty duct tape.

  “That’ll do.”

  Chapter 27

  Elena’s cell phone made a shrill noise from where it sat on the wooden coffee table. She was sitting on the floor playing with the musical buttons on the Fisher-Price Laugh and Learn Musical Table she had bought for Yvonne, who found it quite entertaining and funny. She glanced over her shoulder at her phone. She’d kept it close since Carey had left with Dmitry, wanting to be available if something happened.

  She grabbed it, finding an alert from her CIA email account which only ever sounded unless it was of high importance. She frowned when she saw it was listed as unknown sender. Intrigued, she opened the message and sucked in her breath as she read the content. Blood rushed from her face and she called out to Lucas who was in the laundry room.

  Yvonne crawled over to her and made a gurgling sound. She scooped her daughter up and started towards Lucas.

  “What’s up, sladkaya?” he asked, grinning at his daughter.

  “I got a message. I think it’s from Dmitry.”

  Lucas frowned and took the phone from her and read the message, then read it again. She was certain it was from her brother. It sounded like Dmitry. He had used the program he had implemented to get the message across to them. Lucas’s own phone sounded, and he pulled it from his pocket.

  “I got one too.”

  “That must mean they’re in trouble. Mikhail is the name of the man who killed Carey’s boss.”

  Lucas tapped speed dial number five on his phone and ran his fingers through his blond hair while he listened to it ring. When the man on the other end answered, Lucas detailed what he wanted and that he wanted it now. She followed him as he stalked into their bedroom and opened the small safe in the closet and retrieved his firearm, clipping the holster to his belt and then secured his badge next to it. Hanging up, he turned to face her.

  “I’ll be home shortly,” he promised. “I’m just going to shoot your brother for interrupting my day off.”

  He gave her a long kiss and lightly pinched Yvonne’s cheek. Elena followed him to the front door.

  “Be careful.”

  He gave her a brief nod. She was worried about Carey and Dmitry. She hadn’t liked this situation from the start but it was the only way Carey would’ve agreed to it. She knew Dmitry was more than capable of looking after her, otherwise she wouldn’t have let Carey go with him, but the mafiya didn’t play nice. She had seen the crime scene photos of more than one mob hit—Alan Thomas’s included—to know what they were capable of doing to a human being and she felt useless, unable to do anything but sit and wait for news.

  Lucas opened the door, fear for him making her want to keep him there. She stamped down on the emotion. Lucas could handle himself, and so she ignored her fears and kissed her palm, blowing it across to him.

  Lucas grabbed it and placed the kiss on his lips. “Love you,” he said, as he stepped out the door.

  Chapter 28

  Carey stepped out of the supply closet, close behind Dmitry. They had bound Milo’s wrists and ankles with duct tape so he couldn’t go anywhere. She had added some to his mouth as well, in case he regained consciousness while all the shit was still going on. Dmitry told her to keep the duct tape with her in case they needed it again. After swapping weapons—his pepper spray for her gun—they moved silently towards the security office where Dmitry planned to shut off the metal detectors using Milo’s cyber trail.

  “The man is an amateur,” Dmitry said with a hint of derision. “I doubt he was smart enough to erase his path. I should be able to follow it with my eyes closed.”

  She barely refrained from rolling her eyes at his arrogance but she knew it was well justified, having seen firsthand what Dmitry was capable of. Still, the man was a major snob.

  Using her pass, she unlocked the security office’s door. He went in first and sat down at the unmanned station. She followed him, keeping her focus on the door, occasionally allowing her gaze to flick over to the monitors looking for sentries. There were none. This seemed like a small operation, which suited her fine.

  Dmitry brought up the command dialog box and began typing. His fingers flew across the keyboard with such speed she found herself in awe. She was no slouch but Dmitry’s typing skills seemed to defy all odds. Should she happen to blink, she would miss it completely.

  “Like oily fingers on glass,” he commented, and she assumed he’d found Milo’s imprint on the hard drive and was now following the commands to disengage the metal de
tectors. A warning popped up on the screen informing him of just that. He sat back in his chair and grinned at her.

  “Done. Easy as pie. The man’s computer skills are almost caveman drawings. I could have done with something harder.”

  This time, she did roll her eyes. “We have bigger issues right now than your superiority.”

  He caught her waist and dragged her close. “Yes, we do, but just remember I am the superior man. Your words.”

  She playfully slapped him before turning serious. Taking a deep breath, she took his hand in hers and led him out of the room and up the stairs to where the offices were situated. Vasily and Thug Number Two waited patiently at the end of the hall guarding the only entrance to her office. Dmitry reached around his back with his free hand to ensure Milo’s Glock was concealed.

  The two men stood straighter when she and Dmitry approached, their stances immediately more alert. Their hands went to their waists, resting on the butts of their guns. Their eyes narrowed, watching them warily, as if they would be stupid enough to try something.

  Not going to happen. She alone with her untrained eyes could count more than one concealed weapon. Once again the cut of their jackets wasn’t done to their specific need. She could only wonder how many knives each held hidden on their person. She shivered, wishing to never find out. Dmitry’s arm brushed against her own and she felt extremely thankful he was here with her. She knew she would be a puddle of nerves if it hadn’t been for him.

  She stopped before them and glared at the two beefy men. “You owe me for a rear window and back paneling,” she told them, thinking of her poor car, now hidden away in Elena’s and Lucas’s garage.

  Thug Number Two smirked. “Yeah, I’ll cut you a check when you leave.”

  “Sraka.”

  Asshole, she muttered not so quietly, as Dmitry pushed on her lower back, gently propelling her forward into the room. Mikhail sat behind her old desk which faced the door, and she could see the connecting door to the inner office was closed. Were the hostages still alive?

 

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