“Boris had a team of six men guarding the warehouse. Four inside. Two outside.
“There were three Rangers. They killed the outside guards first. Then they surrounded the place. All hell broke loose when they burst through the doors. Stun grenades detonated. Gunfire erupted.
“When the smoke cleared I could see the corpses scattered on the warehouse floor. Two were Boris’s guards. Three were Rangers. And one was my wife.
“Nika had been caught in the crossfire. That last image of her is forever burned into my mind. That horrible image. Nika lying there in a pool of blood. Her wheelchair on its side. One wheel spinning.
“My heart sank. I wept like a baby. Guilt consumed me. My wife and friends had died because of me. My poor judgment. My bad decisions.
“Nika was my world. When she died my world died too. It died right there on that warehouse floor.
“After that I had nothing left to live for. I wanted to join her in death. To be with her. Forever with her.
“Her absence hit me like a rain of arrows. Arrows to my heart. You can’t imagine the loneliness. The bleakness. I felt as if my soul mate had gone to a better world and left me behind on this one. On this lonely planet. Earth.
“If not for my religious beliefs, I would have committed suicide. That would have been the easiest thing to do. The easy way out.
“Fortunately I found another way. A better way. I found something to live for. To fight for. A purpose in life. A single purpose:
“To kill Boris.”
CHAPTER 56
WE STOPPED FOR the night in Cincinnati.
We had traveled more than seven hundred miles that day. Eleven hours of driving. Through Florida. Alabama. Tennessee. Kentucky. Ohio. Five states in all.
We had another five hundred miles to go. Seven hours of driving. Through the rest of Ohio. Then Pennsylvania. Then New York. Then we would finally see Lake Ontario.
Boris would be waiting there for us. Waiting on his yacht. Waiting to receive Sam.
I had mixed feelings about handing Sam over to him.
On the one hand I would feel good about Boris handing Kelly over to me. She would be free. Her father would be relieved. And I would be able to keep my promise to him.
On the other hand I would feel bad about Sam’s fate. No doubt Boris would kill him. Probably torture him too.
Maybe it had been a mistake to let Sam ride up front with me. A mistake to get to know him as a person. To understand him.
The best thing would have been to keep him in the trunk. Far away from my ears. Far away from my empathetic heart.
Not that I am Mr. Empathy. I can be a cold bastard at times. Sometimes you need to be. I have no trouble rising to the occasion.
Both Mr. Empathy and Mr. Bastard exist in me. Like Dr. Jekyll and Mr. Hyde. They battle each other for supremacy. A constant battle.
Cold bastards have it easier than warm souls. No remorse. No guilt. No second thoughts.
In the hotel room I took out a length of rope. I had bought it earlier that day from a Walmart in Louisville.
“Come here,” I told Sam. “Sit down in the chair.”
“You expect me to sleep in a chair tonight?”
“Sit down.”
I tied him to the chair.
Then I ordered room service.
Fifteen minutes later knuckles rapped on the door.
I set Sam’s dinner on the table in front of him.
“How am I supposed to eat with my hands tied behind my back?”
“Eat like a chicken.”
“What’s that supposed to mean?”
“Bob your head up and down.”
“I can’t eat chicken strips that way.”
“Why not?”
“It’ll make me a cannibal.”
“Shut up and eat.”
We ate.
After dinner I took out my phone and brought up the browser.
I wanted to check out Sam’s story. See if he had told me the truth.
Sometimes people lie to gain favor. Maybe Sam had lied to me. His whole story might have been a complete fabrication.
First I searched for information about the limestone quarry in Albany. It turned out that Oryol Financial Group owned the quarry. That meant Boris owned it.
Sam had been truthful about that.
Next I searched for information about the apartment building in Albany. It turned out that Boris had owned the building and it had burned down.
Sam had been truthful about that too.
Two for two.
Next I searched for information about the warehouse in New York City. It turned out that Boris owned it. But I found nothing about the night Sam’s wife got killed there.
“How come I can’t find any articles about your wife’s death?”
“Because there aren’t any.”
“Why not?”
“Nobody reported it.”
“Why not?”
“Think about it. Boris held my wife captive in his warehouse. Former Army Rangers stormed the place. Boris’s guards killed them. Nika got killed in the process. Boris didn’t want that story to get out.”
“You could have gone to the cops.”
“Yes. I could have.”
“Why didn’t you?”
“There would have been a trial and Boris would have gone to prison. But I can’t get to Boris in prison. I can’t kill him in there. I need him to be out in the free world.”
That made sense.
Sam seemed credible.
“Time to get some sleep,” I told him. “We’re hitting the road early in the morning. We should get to Lake Ontario by midday.”
“Where specifically?”
“Rochester.”
I tied him to a bed.
Then I got into the other bed and shut off the bedside lamp.
“Good night, Rip. Sleep well. Thanks for leaving me ungagged.”
“Yeah yeah.”
Sleep eluded me much of the night. Not only because of Sam’s snoring and other emissions but because of my tangled thoughts and feelings.
Sam seemed like a good man who had lost a good woman.
Lost her because of Boris.
The same thing could happen to me. It could easily happen. I could lose Kelly because of Boris.
Boris had held Nika captive.
Now he was holding Kelly captive.
Boris had forced Sam into doing his dirty work.
Now he was forcing me into doing his dirty work.
Boris had failed to keep his word to Sam.
Now he might fail to keep his word to me. He might not let Kelly go free. He might keep her and continue his control over me. Just as he had done to Sam.
In the end Sam’s wife had died.
No way would I let that happen to Kelly.
CHAPTER 57
AFTER BREAKFAST WE hit the road.
Me driving. Sam riding shotgun.
In the cool dark I started thinking about Boris’s involvement with sex trafficking. I could picture Kelly working as a prostitute on the streets of Russia. Servicing dozens of men a day. Nothing more than a sex slave.
The image horrified me.
“You awake over there?” I said.
Sam stirred in his seat.
“Yeah. Just resting my eyes.”
“Yesterday you asked me how much Boris is paying me to bring you back to him.”
“You’re going to tell me?”
“I am.”
“So how much is he paying you?”
“Nothing.”
“Nothing? Not much of a negotiator. Are you?”
“He’s holding a friend of mine captive. A woman named Kelly. He’ll let her go when I deliver you to him.”
“Is that what you think? That he’ll let her go? Come on. You know that’s not going to happen. You know Boris will do the same thing to you he did to me. No doubt about that. He’ll use your friend Kelly as leverage to force you into doing more jobs for him. His deman
ds will never end. Kelly will never be free. You’ll never be free. Boris will always be your puppet master. You know I’m right about that. Right?”
Right.
Sam continued before I could respond.
“You can’t trust Boris. His word means nothing. He screwed me. He’ll screw you.”
We drove in silence.
Silence in the car. But not outside.
Freeing Kelly. That was my goal.
Would I achieve it by delivering Sam to Boris?
That seemed less and less likely with every passing minute.
The more I thought about it the less I liked it.
My mind started searching for alternatives. Other approaches. Better options.
Seconds passed.
Minutes passed.
Then an idea illuminated me. As if I were a cartoon character with a light bulb over my head.
My game-changing idea would throw Boris for a loop.
Game-changing ideas disrupt things. They change the rules. Turn everything upside down.
Sam and I were somewhere between Cincinnati and Columbus when I pulled over onto the shoulder and shut off the engine.
Vehicles zipped past.
Sam looked over at me.
“What are you doing?”
I got out of the car and walked around to the other side and opened the passenger door.
Sam stared up at me.
“What are you doing?”
“Cutting your hands free.”
“Why?”
“Because I’m not going to deliver you to Boris.”
“What made you change your mind?”
“I’ve got a better plan. You’ll like it.”
I reached into my pocket and took out a pocketknife. I had bought it the previous day from a Walmart in Louisville. The same Walmart where I had bought the length of rope. All your shopping needs in one convenient location.
I bent over and leaned into the car and unfastened Sam’s seat belt.
“Get out.”
“Gladly.”
“Now turn around.”
The pocketknife sliced through the wire that bound his hands.
He rubbed his wrists where the wire had been.
I opened the glove compartment and took out Sam’s wallet.
“Here. I found this yesterday. You might as well hold on to it.”
He nodded and pocketed the wallet.
“Fake driver’s license,” I said. “Fake credit cards too. Smart to change your identity.”
“I had to. Otherwise Boris would easily have found me. The fake identity kept him off my trail for a while. At least until you came along.”
“I saw the photos of your wife. Very pretty.”
He nodded sadly.
“Thanks.”
“Sorry for your loss.”
“Thanks.”
He twisted the wedding ring on his finger.
“Where’s your phone? I found your wallet but no phone.”
“I don’t have a phone anymore. Phones make it easy for people to track your location. No point in making it easy.”
“How’d Janet contact you?”
“Through a telephone message center where people can leave voice messages for me.”
“You’re good, Sam.”
“Got to be. Especially when it’s a matter of survival.”
“Especially.”
“Can I have my gun back?”
“Not yet. But you can have the keys. You’re driving.”
He took the keys from my hand and walked around to the other side of the car and got in behind the steering wheel.
Meanwhile I got in on the passenger side.
He started the engine. He hit the gas. The car pulled out onto the highway and accelerated.
“Boris’s daughter,” I said. “Tell me what you know about her.”
CHAPTER 58
“INNA?” SAM SAID. “What do you want to know about her?”
“Anything you can tell me,” I said. “Anything and everything.”
“Okay. Well. Boris spoils her. Gives her the best of everything. Ensures she never has to do anything for herself that he can do for her. Treats her like a princess. Protects her from everything and everybody. Daddy’s little girl.”
“That’s what I thought. In his cabin on the yacht I saw photos of Inna everywhere. As if she were a glamorous movie star or something.”
“She was. Sort of. Back in Russia.”
“A movie star?”
“A model.”
“She’s not one anymore?”
“Not since Daddy made millions from sex trafficking.”
“So what’s she do now?”
“Helps Boris run his businesses.”
“Bet that pays well.”
“Better than modeling in Russia.”
“Boris wore no wedding ring. And I saw no photos of a wife. What’s the story there?”
Sam shook his head.
“Nobody knows. Nobody asks. Though I did hear some rumors.”
“What rumors?”
“That he never got married. That Inna’s mother was a prostitute.”
“I see.”
“You’re thinking about taking Inna hostage. Aren’t you? That’s what these questions are all about.”
“You read my mind.”
“Hostage exchange. Inna for Kelly.”
“Exactly.”
“A bold plan.”
“Want to help me?”
He shrugged.
“Depends.”
“On?”
“What’s in it for me?”
“What do you want?”
“You know what I want.”
“Then we’ll make sure you get that.”
CHAPTER 59
“SO HOW DO we do it?”
“I’m still working on that,” I told Sam. “You got any ideas?”
He tapped his finger against his lips.
“Not yet. Give me some time.”
“How was Inna’s security when you worked for Boris?”
“Neither Boris nor Inna went anywhere without guards. They were both constantly guarded. Day and night.”
“Sounds like a problem.”
“Nothing we can’t handle.”
“No doubt.”
“How was the security on his yacht?”
“Motion sensors. Night-vision surveillance cameras. Guards. Storming the yacht to take Inna would be as hard as storming the yacht to free Kelly.”
“Then we should take Inna when she’s off the yacht.”
“The problem with that is we don’t know her schedule.”
“We could watch the yacht for a while. See if it runs on any kind of schedule. Both Boris and Inna would have to come ashore now and then. They’ve got businesses to run.”
“They can probably run the businesses from the yacht. They might stay on it twenty-four/seven. Their guards might do all the grocery shopping for them.”
“Maybe you’re right about that. Watching the yacht could be a big waste of time. There’s got to be a better way.”
“There always is.”
We stopped for lunch in a small Pennsylvania town.
“Turkey wrap,” I told the waitress. “Coffee. Glass of water.”
She turned to Sam.
“And for you, honey?”
“Pizza. Cheese fries. Large Coke.”
“Coming right up.”
When she had gone I eyed Sam.
“Your cholesterol must be off the charts.”
“That’s the least of my worries.”
After lunch we got into the car.
“Getting cold out,” I said and blew on my hands. “I miss Florida.”
Sam jerked his thumb toward the back seat.
“Have you got any warm clothes in that suitcase back there?”
“I do.”
“Well?”
We got out of the car and put on some warm clothes. Then we got back in and headed toward Ne
w York.
After a while we started seeing patches of snow on the ground.
“Sure didn’t miss that stuff,” I said. “Not one bit.”
“Me neither.”
We drove past Erie.
Soon we would cross the state line into New York.
“What about friends?” I said. “Inna have any?”
“Harper Groves. That’s her best friend. I used to see them together all the time. They were joined at the hip.”
“You know where Harper lives?”
“Syracuse.”
“We could use her to draw out Inna. Instead of going to Inna we could get her to come to us.”
“Good plan. I like it.”
“We’re off to Syracuse.”
CHAPTER 60
WHEN WE GOT to Buffalo we stopped at an Exxon to fill up the gas tank.
“Two and a half more hours of driving,” I told Sam and started pumping gas. “Then we’ll be in Syracuse. We can get something to eat there and then pay Harper a visit.”
I had used the browser on my phone to find her address. She lived in a house close to Syracuse University. Apparently she lived alone. No husband. No kids. That would make the job easier.
“I’m getting a snack from the vending machine,” Sam said. “You want something?”
I shook my head.
He left and returned.
We got into the car.
He tore open the Snickers wrapper and crumpled it and dropped it onto the car floor.
I gave him a look.
“What?” he said.
“That doesn’t bother you?”
“What?”
“Making a mess of your car.”
“What mess?”
“Never mind.”
He bit into the Snickers and started the engine and pulled out of the Exxon.
Two miles later he wiped his chocolaty fingers on his pants. Then he looked over at me.
“What do you do for a living?”
“Used to be a deputy U.S. marshal. I’m retired now. Janet must have told you that already.”
“She did.”
“Then why’d you ask me?”
“Just making conversation.”
“I see.”
“You married?”
“Nope.”
“You said that as if you’ve got something against marriage.”
“I do.”
“So you think marriage is a bad idea.”
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