The Russian (Federal Hellions Book 2)

by Gray Gardner

  “You need to get your bag and get out of here. Right now,” Burton said, not wanting the girl to get hurt.

  “Look, I go to school with Chance and Daisy, the Senator’s kids. If you want to hurt the Fords I don’t think I can let you.”

  “Leave right now, Ellie!” Burton demanded, holding the remote and setting the explosives on a chair next to the crying couple.

  “No. What are you trying to do here?” she demanded stubbornly.

  “Get out or I will make you get out,” Burton said, shifting the remote to her left hand and walking towards the other girl. This was official CIA business.

  “Are you some kind of dealer?” Ellie inquired, backing away from Burton’s grasping hand. “Because if they didn’t pay you, I know they’re good for it.”

  “This is much worse than drugs, Sweetheart,” Burton muttered, grabbing Ellie’s jacket sleeve and trying to yank her towards the door.

  “I wouldn’t do that,” Ellie growled, not budging.

  Burton sighed and released her, then held her hand up with the remote device. “I’m going to blow this place in a few hours.”

  Ellie suddenly leapt over a coffee table and grabbed the phone off of the hook. As Burton charged after her, she suddenly found herself on her stomach, the phone cord around her neck. She grasped but couldn’t get a hold of it, Ellie’s weight on top of her, so she swung her left hand and the remote back and nailed Ellie on the side of the head. Her grip loosened and Burton jumped to her feet.

  They stood perfectly still, only a few feet from each other. They also found they were both staring down the barrels of a pistol. Ellie was a dealer so it didn’t seem strange to Burton that she carried a weapon.

  “Why do you have a gun?” Ellie demanded, not flinching as she stared over her outstretched arm at the other girl.

  Burton shifted her weight but kept her pistol aimed at Ellie. “Why do you have a gun?”

  “My supplier’s a little shady and I’m not exactly towering over my clientele. I need protection,” she answered, her eyes flickering over to the terrified couple on the bed.

  “I need you to leave,” Burton said, almost pleadingly. Full disclosure was out of the question and she was fairly certain this little girl, though tough acting, had been hurt by the Fords. She was way too jumpy.

  “I can’t do that,” Ellie replied, shaking her head.

  They were at a stalemate, and neither would break. They could have possibly been standing in that room with their weapons trained on each other’s heads for hours if a woman in a business suit hadn’t charged in suddenly.

  “This is a bust! Everybody drop your weapons! Down on the ground! Down on the ground!” she shouted, busting into the large room from the hallway, her badge swinging on a chain around her neck and her pistol aimed at the pair standing off.

  Ellie and Burton jerked their arms back and forth between the woman in the gray skirt, white button down, and black heels underneath a knee length trench coat, and each other.

  “I am DEA and I said drop your weapons!” the woman ordered loudly, frowning as she spotted the tied up couple on the bed. “What the fuck?”

  “You need to turn around and get out!” Burton demanded, pulling up her left hand with the remote device.

  “She’s got a bomb,” Ellie nodded, looking at the dark red headed woman’s confused face and the badge around her neck.

  “Look, let’s… Why do you have a bomb?” the woman asked, shrugging her shoulders and looking puzzled. She dropped her arm with the pistol. No need for a gun with a bomb in the room.

  Ellie took her chance and lunged at the woman, grabbing her wrist and trying to pry the DEA agent’s gun from her hand. To her surprise, the woman quickly wrestled free and loaded the chamber in her pistol, ready to fire.

  “Do not discharge that weapon!” Ellie commanded, suddenly sounding very authoritative.

  “Put it down!” the woman warned, finger on the trigger and a look of resolve in her eyes.

  “I will blow this whole building if you two don’t get the fuck out of here!” Burton finally hollered, getting annoyed with the distraction and losing her patience. She had one job to do, and it involved the woman tied up on the floor, not these two red headed jokers.

  They all stepped towards each other before the woman in the trench coat who claimed to be a federal agent suddenly threw her hands in the air and disengaged her weapon.

  “Hold on. Just hold on!” she said in a loud whisper, eyeing the sweating and crying pair on the bed. “Look, I’m DEA, I spotted this kid making a deal in the mall and I followed her here. If you don’t believe me, call my supervisor.”

  She held out her cell phone and holstered her pistol. She was trying to be the mature one. She seemed to trust them, too. Now she needed them to trust her.

  Ellie frowned and stood up a little straighter. Then, to Burton’s surprise, she shoved her pistol into her school vest.

  “I’m from the Department of National Defense, Black Ops,” she sighed, placing her hands on her hips. “I’ve been undercover for months trying to bust my supplier and fucking Rambo over here just blew my damned cover!” She gestured at Burton.

  Burton eyed the two of them. No way. No way this would happen. What were the chances of three federal agents just running into each other?

  “I want to talk to both of your supervisors,” she demanded, placing her pistol in her pocket but continuing to hold her remote detonator.

  “Hey, dude, you’re going to have to explain what the hell you’re doing here,” Ellie said, nodding her head at the DEA woman. “Plastic explosives on the chair.”

  “What the…” the woman said, grabbing both of their arms and pulling them around the corner and into the hallway leading to the door. “Who are you?”

  Burton rubbed her eyes. They were both undercover government agents. They might believe her, or they might kill her. Black Ops agents were ruthless. And the DEA, well, since the merger with the ATF, they’d become very sensitive. The truth might be the best way to go.

  She swallowed.

  “I’m CIA,” she finally sighed, shaking her head as the other two looked incredulously at her. And why not? It was hard for even her to believe. She’d been in the CIA for two whole minutes. “I’ve been deep undercover since Thanksgiving trying to bring down a child sex slave ring and the elusive Mrs. Senator over there. I need to press her for information so I need you two to get the hell out!”

  “You’re CIA?” Ellie asked, frowning. “How old are you?”

  “How old are you, junior?” Burton snapped.

  Ellie squeezed her hands into fists and grabbed her cell phone. She dialed some number and long code, spoke a few passwords, then put the phone on speaker.

  “Jailbait, target acquired?” a man’s voice asked.

  “No sir, but I did have a little run-in with the law,” Ellie sarcastically replied. “To verify identity please call…” She looked over at the woman.

  “Director Katrina Nelson at the Department of Justice,” the DEA agent said into the speaker.

  Burton looked down at the phone and then replied, “DCI Marty Austin at Langley.”

  There was silence, amazement, and confusion until all three of their identities were verified and superiors had thoroughly reamed them out for being made. As agent Ellie Darby stuffed her cell phone back into her pocket they all looked a little defeated.

  “So,” the DEA agent, whose named they had learned was Jane George, began, “we, I mean, you have evidence that Senator Lilly Ford is not only guilty of buying children for sex, but for orchestrating the kidnapping and enslavement of children around the world. She’s like, the mastermind?”

  “Essentially,” Burton nodded, turning and glancing over her shoulder. She couldn’t really see the pair around the corner, but their muffled sobs let her know they were there.

  “Jesus,” Ellie Darby sighed, looking troubled as she rubbed her head. “Is it possible people can be that evil?”

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nbsp; “Your supplier is part of a Southeast Asian cartel,” George nodded, holding her hands out. She’d obviously been checking up on her lead as she followed the strawberry blond high school dealer. “There are worse people out there.”

  “The Asians, really?” Darby asked, nodding her head like she’s just been told it might rain that day.

  “You are a cracker jack agent, Darby,” George sarcastically remarked.

  “Blow me, narc,” she huffed. “My objective is to push the suppliers away from the school. My sector is privately funded so we work for private citizens.”

  “Hey,” Burton said, standing between them. “Who the fuck cares! I need to squeeze the Senator before she has a fucking heart attack, so please, go!”

  “We can help,” George nodded, recalling the awful things Burton had claimed the Senator was guilty of. She’d learned a few things about interrogation at the Department of Justice.

  “I say we kill ’em both,” Darby suggested, fixing her loose hair in the mirror after she’d calmed down. If she’d had a title at her black ops agency, it would have been simply, Assassin.

  “You just can’t kill a United States Senator!” George argued, leaning in and trying not to let the prisoners hear as they congregated by the door in their impromptu meeting.

  Burton looked torn. “I don’t know, they know too much about us. In the end, we may have to dispose of them.”

  “Can’t you spooks erase memories?” George asked, holding out her hands.

  “Actually, yes,” Burton nodded, shifting the dress she was wearing around. They’d done it to her when she was eighteen, they could certainly do it to a senator.

  “They’ll just buy more kids and more drugs,” Darby sighed, looking over her shoulder and around the corner at the scared pair, tied up on the end of the bed in their designer suits. She scratched her head with her Beretta for dramatic effect. She loved the fright she could see in evil people’s eyes.

  “We could make them think we’re going to kill them,” George nodded, as they all eyed the two terrified assailants around the corner. “I mean, they saw those explosives, right?”

  “Yeah, but I wouldn’t know how to get a charge in there, make it look convincing,” Burton shrugged, showing them the detonator she was holding. “It was all for show, really. Scared straight, and all that. I literally got those explosives out of the back of a van on the street.”

  “Let me see that,” Darby said, taking the little black device and squeezing it. “It’s a dead man’s switch. We could make them think they have to hold it indefinitely and then we could leave. They could potentially be sweating this out for hours.”

  “What’s a dead man’s switch?” Burton asked, as George looked nervously at the famous politician, crying her eyes out with a piece of tape on her mouth. She backed further out of view around the corner and motioned them into the hallway.

  “If they let go of the little red button, then boom,” George sighed, looking at the device. It was a favorite torment of the Southeast Asians gangs.

  “Yup,” Darby nodded, taking her finger off of the little red button to show it to Burton.

  The entire room suddenly blew to pieces.

  The force of the blast gushed down the hallway and sent all 3 girls crashing back into the red carpeted hall of the hotel in a hot burst of smoke and sound. They all lay on the floor momentarily, slightly dazed, then quickly looked at each other in their little mangled dog pile.

  “Oh fuck,” Burton said, pushing up to her feet and stumbling back into the room, pieces of gray dry wall scattered in her dark red hair.

  Darby and George groaned as they stood and quickly followed. The ringing in their ears made it hard to hear, but hearing anything was the least of their problems. They stumbled down the remnants of the hall and around the corner to what was left of the big, elegant room.

  The Senator and her husband were now evenly dispersed all over the ceiling, walls, and floor. And a little bit out of the window. Oh fuck.

  “How the hell am I going to get any information out of them now!” Burton hollered, grabbing her head. She’d blown it. Literally. The most important person in the whole ring was now dripping off of the ceiling.

  The hole where the windows used to be sucked the smoke and dust out of the room, but the girls still swung their arms and coughed, trying to assess their situation.

  “We need to go,” George said, waving her hand in front of her face and coughing. “We can’t risk blowing our covers.”

  “How am I going to explain this to the bastards who are coming here to take me back to my prison?” Burton asked, rubbing her eyes as dust hovered. She wasn’t sure she wanted to call the CIA this time. “Besides, there are over forty other kids there that I need to save and at least three mother fuckers who I need to bust.”

  “You’re going to have to meet them downstairs and try your best to explain that there was a fire alarm, and everyone had to evacuate,” George stated, pushing both girls out into the hallway with other guests who were heeding the fire alarm. “It’s going to be okay.”

  “How?” Burton asked, wondering what method of destruction the CIA would use on her for ruining the case.

  “I have to get back to that school,” Darby casually sighed, sticking a piece of gum in her mouth as they walked down the hall, scared patrons rushing past them. “I can’t be seen here. Sorry about the mix up, too. I guess I’ll see you two soon. There’s like, definitely going to be a hearing after this shit.”

  “Maybe,” Burton nodded, looking worried. Should she call someone? Should she disappear for a while? Should she go back with Wolinski? “Shit. I need to call the agency.”

  “Hopefully we won’t meet again in prison,” George mumbled, sounding hopeless.

  There was a dead senator, after all.

  Kool-Aid and the Gang

  If Burton had felt out of control before, in captivity, she didn’t know what she felt in the days of the hotel bombing aftermath. The CIA had swooped in, obviously keeping close ties with her GPS chip, and had whisked her away to the underground facility in Langley. She objected strongly, wanting to get back in and get the kids. She wanted to nail Wolinski.

  She was out, they told her. It was over.

  After debriefing her they said they had most of what they needed, not to mention DNA evidence from the swift clean-up they’d sent into the hotel. They had Senator Lilly Ford’s unmistakable DNA and records of her being in that same room for years. They had remnants of her obvious sex bag her husband had carried, not to mention logs from her husband’s numerous texts to their children’s friend, known drug dealer Ellie Darby. And then there were the pictures locked in the safe at home. Damning, to say the least.

  They had evidence, they would prosecute, they would bring down the ring one important person at a time. The scandal was impending. Inevitable. What they didn’t have, though, were the kids.

  “How many suburbs in this fucking city can there be?” Burton shouted, pacing in her solitary room as a doctor checked her over and Eubanks and Payne stood watching. She’d been in that room alone for a couple of days, so she was a little edgy.

  “That’s not the point.”

  “Fuck you!” she shouted, pushing the doctor to the floor and getting in their faces. “You told me this was about the kids. You lied to me and said this was about justice for them and their families! This wasn’t about the kids at all, damn it! This was about you making a bust and getting the CIA into the public’s favor again!”

  “Burton,” Eubanks growled, warning her.

  “Shut up!” she screamed, throwing her hands in the air. “You have no fucking idea what I’ve been through the past six months, but forget that! Drive me around the suburbs and I promise, I swear to you, that I will find that house and those kids.”

  Eubanks looked away, annoyed, as Payne rubbed his brow.

  Burton suddenly saw her in. “Agent Payne,” she begged. “You released to the press that I was one of the dead. I’m
a ghost to those guys now. Please. Please! I can’t let those kids down. You have to understand that. I can’t not go looking for them. I am the only one who can help them. There is no other way. You won’t find any information about Wolinski in Ford’s files. I’ve seen where he lives. I’ve eaten in his kitchen. I am the person who can bring him down.”

  Eubanks shook his head and left the room as Payne finally looked up at her. It wasn’t hopeful. It was pained.

  “Baylor, I’m sorry.’

  “You just wanted the boss,” Burton huffed, staring at him with sad green eyes. “All along, you knew who it was, you just needed evidence against her. But, what about those kids?”

  “I’m… it’s not…”

  “Agent Payne,” she growled, stepping up so close to him that their chests were two inches apart. “I can do this. I just need the chance. No harm if I can’t find the house, but I know I can. I have to. You already found Brent Tracy’s house in Florida. All of those precious, broken children now have a chance at life. Think about the ones here, right under our noses.”

  The tables were turned. She was the one convincing him to help now. Payne nodded, looking over his shoulder and making sure they were alone. He wiped the sweat off of his forehead and placed a hand on her shoulder. He whispered, “I’ll send you and Connor, but you have to finish your debriefing here so I can say I’m sending you two to do recon in the city. Know what I mean?”

  “Absolutely,” Burton grinned, pushing the fact that she hadn’t seen Connor in months to the back of her already overly burdened brain. “Take me to the debriefing room. I have more to say.”

  She gave detailed descriptions of the bakery, the cruise liner, the captain, the Florida house, and Mr. Wolinski. They’d already busted all of the johns after her second or third meetings with them in the hotel, so really all that was left was Wolinski. He was prudent, never careless. He would be the one enterprising enough to start the underground ring all over again.

  The day she was supposed to leave was only her third day back at Langley, but it had felt like much longer. Being alone in a room for a long period of time made her edgy. She wasn’t used to sleeping in a bed, she wasn’t used to eating at a table with other people, and she wasn’t sure what it would be like to see Connor, so she was having a lot of anxiety about that.