The Man in the Black Suit

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The Man in the Black Suit Page 37

by Sylvain Reynard


  Rick gestured to Steve and Ray. “We’re going to sweep the floor, the elevator, and the stairwell. Wen, call me when you’ve got something.”

  “I ordered room service,” Acacia said quietly.

  Rick nodded at Wen. “Cancel that order.”

  Rick drew his gun and the other guards followed suit. They exited into the hall.

  Acacia stood behind Wen as he canceled her room service order. The air in the room was tense as the analysts scanned their computer screens.

  “Jeff and Kevin aren’t responding via com link,” Jim announced. “Their cell phones are on, but they aren’t answering. I’ve traced the phones to the parking garage downstairs.”

  “Copy that.” Wen quickly relayed the message to Rick.

  “I found something.” Another woman stood next to her laptop.

  “Put it on the main screen,” Wen ordered.

  Acacia gazed in shock at images of Nicholas being bustled out of an elevator by a group of masked men and entering what looked like an underground parking garage. He was pushed into a waiting van, and the limp bodies of his security guards were loaded into the back. The van sped off.

  “God damn it.” Wen lifted his voice over the cacophony that erupted in the room. “Liz, I want you to analyze the video and pull everything you can. Try to get a license plate. Everyone else, divvy up the video feeds to see if we can find out where the van is going.

  “Dave, I need you to hack into the Moscow streetlight and security cameras. See if you can pick up the van.”

  “We’ve got the feed to the floor,” Olga interjected.

  “Main screen,” Wen ordered. “Rewind the past thirty minutes.”

  The command center grew silent as they watched Nicholas and his security guards being ambushed by a group of six masked men, armed with automatic weapons, who’d been hiding in the service elevator.

  “Shit,” said Wen. “They’ve got eyes inside the hotel. The service elevator opened as soon as the boss entered the hall. They were waiting for him.”

  Wen quickly relayed the findings to Rick. Acacia could hear him swearing over the com link.

  Acacia clasped a hand over her mouth as Olga played the images of Nicholas’s capture over and over again. His security guards had been struck in the head, knocking them out. Their bodies had been carried into the elevator.

  Nicholas had attempted to wrest one of the guns from an assailant, but another masked man had placed his gun to Nicholas’s temple. After they’d restrained him, they’d punched him in the face. Acacia saw blood spill from Nicholas’s mouth.

  As his hand covered his mouth, she saw something glitter at his wrist.

  “The watch,” she croaked, touching Wen’s elbow. “Nicholas is wearing his watch, the one with the tracking device.”

  “Right,” Wen muttered. Again, his fingers flew across his keyboard. “Dave, I’m sending the link to the tracking device in the boss’s watch. I want you to pinpoint his location and report back.”

  “Affirmative,” the bearded man replied. He tapped several keys on his laptop.

  “Where are they taking Nicholas?” Acacia whispered.

  “Dave, status,” Wen called out.

  “Okay, I’ve got eyes on the watch. He’s still in the city,” Dave replied.

  Acacia closed her eyes and said a prayer. Kidnappings took extensive planning, especially inside what should have been a secure hotel. If the Russian had Nicholas, he would probably kill him. They needed a rescue plan, and they needed one fast.

  “Where’s Rick?” she asked.

  “On his way back up.”

  “We need to contact the incursion team at the Russian’s house and send them after Nicholas.” Acacia spoke to Wen quietly.

  He gave her a quizzical look.

  “You know who I am to Nicholas,” she continued. “I’m not going to hamper your efforts; I’m here to help.”

  Wen frowned. “The boss wanted the team to go in.”

  “If the Russian isn’t in the house, the incursion is pointless. Nicholas told me that. Right now, his safety should be our first priority.”

  “No argument there, but we have a protocol.”

  “And that is?” Acacia lifted her eyebrows.

  “Rick’s in charge.”

  “Fine.” Acacia crossed her arms. “Call him.”

  As Wen did as she asked, she stood and surveyed the room and all the computer screens. “Can you patch the incursion team into the surveillance on Nicholas’s watch?”

  “Yes.” Wen looked toward the door. “Rick’s back.”

  The door to the conference room opened and all eyes swung to the door. Rick, Steve, and Ray entered.

  Acacia went to Rick. “I want Wen to activate the incursion team to rescue Nicholas.”

  Rick frowned. “The boss isn’t going to like it, but I was thinking the same thing. Russian law enforcement isn’t an option, not with the operation we have going on here.”

  “What about hotel security? Will they call the police?”

  Rick scoffed. “Someone paid them off. The extraction team drove right into the parking garage and took the service elevator to this floor. They’d have to have an elevator key to do that. I doubt the hotel will call the police, but just in case, I’ll activate one of our contacts.”

  Rick walked over to Olga and began speaking to her in low tones.

  Acacia followed. “Nicholas is wearing his watch, and Dave is tracking him. How can we find the Russian?”

  “The boss was supposed to speak to a contact in Russian Interpol.” Rick looked around Acacia to Wen. “Did you make the call?”

  “Yes. When the boss was delayed, the agent hung up.”

  Acacia chewed at the edge of her lip.

  “Kuznetsov knows we’re here,” Rick mused. “Look at the timing. He leaves the house, knowing it will provoke a reaction from us. Then his guys jump the boss. Kuznetsov must have people inside the hotel.” He turned to Wen. “Patch the incursion team into our surveillance on the boss. Tell them to get ready for an extraction.”

  “Affirmative,” Wen replied. “Rules of engagement?”

  “Tell them not to leave a large footprint,” Rick replied. “Obviously, we want the boss unharmed, but they’re going to take fire getting him out.”

  “Copy that,” said Wen. He began speaking into his headset in a low voice.

  “We need a diversion,” Rick muttered. He approached Wen and waited until he’d finished speaking. “Tell the incursion team to trip the security system at the compound. That will bring out the cavalry, and it will buy us some time.”

  As Wen followed orders, Acacia turned to Rick. “Kuznetsov probably has Nicholas, but without involving law enforcement, we may not be able to tie him to the kidnapping. If we let the artwork go, Nicholas will have failed.”

  Rick looked at her keenly. “I think we agree the boss’s safety is our first priority.”

  “Of course. But I want to tie Kuznetsov to the stolen art. It may give us some leverage if the incursion team runs into problems.”

  Rick shook his head. “We have two teams. The first is going to get the boss, and the second is on their way here. We need them for security. I’m surprised Kuznetsov didn’t try for you, too.”

  Acacia’s heart leapt into her throat. A wave of anxiety washed over her, and she was suddenly in Morocco, sitting in her cell in the dark. She found it difficult to breathe.

  “You need to sit down.” Rick took her elbow and led her to a chair. “Do you want me to call the nurse?”

  She shook her head.

  Steve quickly retrieved a glass of water and handed it to her.

  Her hand shook as she took the glass.

  “Take a deep breath,” Rick ordered, “but don’t close your eyes. Look around you. We’re doing all we can to help th
e boss. Don’t fall apart on me.”

  Acacia kept her eyes open and visualized her panic attack as a wall of water. She imagined it crashing over her from head to toe and then disappearing into the carpet. She drew a deep breath.

  “Do you want to go back to the suite and lie down?” Rick’s face creased with concern.

  “I want to help.” Shakily, she sipped the water.

  Rick placed his hand on her shoulder. “We’ve got this. You should go. This will take time.”

  “The artwork,” she managed, tasting the water again. “We have to find a way to tie Kuznetsov to the artwork. Then we have something Russian law enforcement can prosecute.”

  Rick shook his head. “The boss has a contact in Russian Interpol, but his hands are tied. He doesn’t have legal grounds to search.”

  “Sure he does,” Olga called from across the room. Her face reddened as Rick and Acacia scrutinized her.

  She left her workstation and walked over to where Acacia was seated. “Olga Ivanova,” she introduced herself. “I’m the Russian specialist. Russian law requires only that law enforcement have the suspicion of the presence of weapons on private property to justify a search. If you can provide Interpol with video of weapons in Kuznetsov’s compound, it’s enough for suspicion.”

  “That’s risky,” Wen interjected as he walked over to the huddle. “The video is illegally obtained. Kuznetsov can challenge the search.”

  “Not if Interpol sees footage of an armed response to a security breach,” Olga countered. “Rick called for the incursion team to trip the security system. If they can lure Kuznetsov’s men outside the walls of the compound and videotape them, the footage wouldn’t be the product of an illegal wiretap.”

  “That may work,” Rick admitted.

  “Please,” said Acacia. “It’s worth a try.”

  Rick nodded at Wen.

  “Okay, Kris, get eyes on the compound so we can get footage of their response.” Wen looked over at the analyst seated next to his workstation.

  “Copy that,” said Kris.

  “Dave, location,” Wen barked.

  “Still in Moscow,” Dave reported. “The boss is on the M-9, which is the Baltic Highway. It looks like they’re headed west, outside the city.”

  “Possible destinations?”

  “The highway runs all the way to Latvia. But settlements outside the city include Golyevo, Novyy, and Voronki.”

  “What about Kuznetsov?” Rick asked.

  “The convoy disappeared,” Dave admitted. “Several of the side streets in his neighborhood don’t have cameras on them.”

  “Start pulling up aerial views of the settlements you mentioned,” Wen instructed, “but keep an eye out for the convoy.”

  He turned to Rick and Acacia. “We just received some good news. Nicholas is on the M-9 heading west. That’s in the general direction of the Barvikha area, which is where the compound is. Our incursion team won’t be too far away.”

  “Have they tripped the security system yet?” Rick asked.

  “Kris, status,” said Wen.

  “Nothing yet,” Kris reported.

  “Okay, tell the team to breach security in such a way as to draw Kuznetsov’s men outside the compound. Then they need to get the hell out,” Rick instructed. “Since Nicholas is traveling toward them, they should be able to catch up with him.”

  “Affirmative.” Wen spoke into his headset in hushed tones.

  “I need my cell phone. It’s in my purse, which is in the suite,” Acacia said quietly to Steve, who stood next to her.

  He turned and exited the conference room.

  She moved to sit next to Wen. “Does Nicholas’s Interpol contact know him as Nicholas or one of his aliases?”

  “Pierre Breckman. Why?”

  “I’d like to speak to the Interpol contact.”

  Wen looked up at Rick and lifted his eyebrows.

  Acacia frowned. “I speak Russian. I know about the stolen art, and I’ve seen photos of Kuznetsov’s vault.”

  “That’s not a good idea,” said Rick. “You’re under a lot of strain. And we’ve got the incursion team poised to trip the security system. Let’s see what they can do first.”

  “I’ll wait a few minutes, but I want to talk to the contact.” Acacia was determined. “I’m going to call Paris first.”

  Rick shook his head. “That’s the wrong move. We need to work with the Russians.”

  “The French may help us motivate the Russians,” Acacia explained. “You said yourself that Nicholas’s contact hasn’t been able to help. Maybe the BRB can persuade him.”

  Rick frowned. “Who are you going to call? Luc?”

  She nodded.

  Rick’s frown deepened. “He isn’t going to help us.”

  “He’s BRB,” Acacia argued. “He knows the agent who is hunting the stolen Matisse we saw in Kuznetsov’s vault. It’s the best lead they’ve had in years.”

  At that moment, Steve returned and placed her cell phone in her hand. She thanked him.

  She took the phone to the far corner of the room and dialed Luc’s number. She rubbed her hamsa pendant, praying he would answer.

  “Do you have your head straight?” Luc’s voice was cool.

  Acacia closed her eyes. “It’s an emergency.”

  Luc’s tone changed and grew alert. “Where are you?”

  She opened her eyes and faced away from Rick and the others. “I’m in Moscow.”

  “What are you doing in Moscow?”

  “It’s a long story. Listen, we found the Matisse, the one that was stolen from Musée d’Art Moderne. It’s here.”

  There was silence on the other end of the line.

  “Luc?” She grew panicked. “Are you there?”

  “Is this some kind of a joke? Do you and your new boyfriend make up these games just for laughs?”

  “This is not a joke. I called you first, but his security team is also calling Russian Interpol.”

  “Good. Tell them I said hello.”

  “Wait!” She lifted her voice. “Don’t hang up.”

  Luc huffed into the phone. “I’m here. But Caci, you’re trying my patience.”

  “I need your help. The man who has the Matisse is Serge Kuznetsov. He’s Russian mafia, and no one will touch him. Not even Russian Interpol.”

  Acacia heard footsteps on the other end of the line and the sound of a door closing.

  “This is out of my jurisdiction. I’m not even assigned to the Musée case.”

  “I thought you could speak to Philippe.”

  Luc made an exasperated noise. Then Acacia heard the sound of fingers on a computer keyboard. “What else can you tell me?”

  “Kuznetsov has other stolen works in his vault. Our security team was able to hack into their system. We have video surveillance.”

  “Can you send it to me?” Luc rattled off his BRB email address.

  “Of course.” Acacia crossed over to Wen and scribbled Luc’s email on a piece of paper. She quickly listed the files she wanted Wen to send and pointed to them with the end of her pencil.

  Wen nodded.

  “We’re sending them. But Luc, I need the BRB to do something now.”

  There was silence for a moment.

  “That’s not possible.” Luc breathed heavily into the phone. “We’d have to coordinate with Russian Interpol, as well as local law enforcement. It will take days. Maybe weeks.”

  “We don’t have that kind of time!” She raised her voice, at the edge of tears.

  “Why isn’t your boyfriend handling this?”

  “Because Kuznetsov has him.” She barely restrained a sob. “He was kidnapped from our hotel. I’m with what remains of his security team.”

  “Call the police. Caci, I’m in Paris. What the hell d
o you expect me to do?”

  “I expect you to help me. Not for his sake, but because I’m asking you.” She sniffled. “I’m asking you. Please.”

  “I’ll look at what you have, and if it seems credible, I’ll pass it on to Philippe.” Luc’s voice was low and gravelly. “I get that your boyfriend is in trouble, but there’s nothing I can do about that.”

  “Can you at least speak to Russian Interpol?”

  “No. I’ll look at what you send me, but there’s no way I’m putting my ass on the line for this.”

  “Why? Because I don’t have my head straight?” Acacia’s temper balanced on the edge of a knife.

  Luc blew out a breath. “I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have said that. But this is my career. After what happened last time, you can understand my hesitation.”

  “This is his life,” she whispered.

  “Call the police,” Luc repeated firmly. “Report the kidnapping, and contact your boyfriend’s embassy.”

  “Fine. Goodbye.”

  “Caci, wait!” Luc raised his voice.

  “What?”

  He sighed deeply. “I’m sorry. I’ll look at what you gave me and see what I can do. But I’m not making any promises.”

  “Thanks.” Acacia hung up.

  She pressed her cell phone to her forehead and closed her eyes. Time was running out, and she’d just wasted precious minutes on someone who she’d thought was going to help.

  She’d never make that mistake again.

  Chapter Sixty-One

  “MY NAME IS ACACIA. I’m Pierre Breckman’s girlfriend. He’s been kidnapped.” Acacia spoke in Russian through Wen’s headset. Olga sat next to her, listening silently to the exchange through her own headphones.

  The Interpol agent on the other end of the line cursed. “Now there’s a war.”

  “A war you can end. We will rescue Pierre. We’re asking you to help us track down Kuznetsov.”

  “Do you have evidence Kuznetsov is behind the kidnapping?”

  “Pierre was kidnapped inside a secure floor at the Red Square Hotel,” Acacia grew testy. “You tell me—who else could be behind it?”

 

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