The Suitcase

by T V Scribner

  CHAPTER 42

  Paisley jumped, when her phone began to vibrate, and held up a finger in front of her, to signify wait a moment, then reached in her pocket and answered, "Hello?"

  "Paisley, it's Aunt Olga, just want to know you arrive...okay?"

  She turned down the volume on her phone, because Aunt Olga always talked on the phone with a loud voice, as if it were the only way she could be heard.

  "Oh, yes—I did. I'm sorry I didn't call you sooner, but the time difference and all...yes, everything is fine...are you okay?"

  "I'm good, love you too. Bye-bye…”

  "Is everything okay?" Boone asked.

  "Yes," she grinned, "I'm sorry, Aunt Olga called…I forgot to tell her I arrived," she smiled and put her phone away, “now, you were saying?"

  "Well," Boone began, "to make a long story short, in 1990, the FBI, did come to Brainerd to investigate the rumor of a suitcase bomb hidden somewhere in the Brainerd Lakes area, during the Cold War, by the KGB. The agents searched around for a few weeks, but nothing ever came of it, so they left, but, a few stories were printed in the local newspaper about it—some of the same stories you found. There were also hearings in Congress about the situation, and needless to say, we had our files on the investigation, in our Counter Terrorism Office, here at the FBI.”

  "Yes, that was strange when I searched for articles, I thought it was preposterous, at the time!"

  Boone continued, "However, because we were contacted by this unknown informant, Mr. Ohm, he did need to be taken seriously, given the accusations made, in the 90s.”

  Her eyes grew big, "Oh, my gosh! How strange that Gregore Kamorov turned out to be your informant, Mr. Ohm!”

  Ignoring her, he continued, "Because I spoke Russian, it was the determining factor in choosing me to come to Pinecrest. As I said before, I thought he was spooked, but of course he’d been murdered, so no wonder.

  Sitting, with rapt attention, she listened to everything Boone said, and asked, "But who did murder him?” She thought a moment, then added, “Wait—let me guess! You figured somehow, someone found out that Kamorov wanted to spill the beans, and they killed him! Am I right?"

  Without giving an answer, Boone called the waitress over and ordered another milkshake. "Would you like another one, Paisley?"

  "No, I'm good." She still wasn’t used to hearing him call her Paisley.

  He continued answering question, "It wasn't exactly like you're saying. Kamorov's murder seemed just a coincidence at first, except for the fact that he was Russian.

  “But after the murder, you knew Kamorov was the one you were looking for, didn’t you?” she reiterated, and sat back in her chair, “but you couldn’t tell me that at the time.”

  Chuckling, he said, "No, it still wasn't that evident. At first, I believed the murder to be random, but it was something to keep me busy, while I searched for the informant, until I found out Kamorov moved here from Russia, then it looked more suspicious, but there was still no proof."

  “Whoa, that must have been a surprise! So, case-closed!" She sipped some more of her milk shake and looked out pensively at the city, as the waitress brought Boone's second shake.

  "Not really," he continued, "because, since I had no proof, I was still just guessing. Perhaps, it was just a normal homicide? But, then we interviewed Pyotr Zolotov—another Russian! A coincidence? Maybe, but still, during our investigation, nothing came up right away, remember? And the next thing I knew, you were obviously under assault from someone, but I couldn't figure out, who or why?"

  "I couldn't figure out that one either,” she agreed.

  It was getting chilly, so she stood, to put on her jacket, and Boone rose to give her a hand.

  "But, of course, now I understand how the thumb drive turned out to be the connection,” he said and looked at his watch. "Perhaps we should make a night of it," he suggested, "since we have a big day ahead of us tomorrow."

  "Okay, that sounds good to me, but what about Ivan's murder?"

  They started walking towards the terrace door to the hotel, "Yes, that raised even more suspicions. Thankfully, you were smart enough to notice the tattoo on Gregore's arm, and it turned out there was an identical one on Ivan—the tattoo connection was impressive. This is when I was sure, that the informant had been Kamorov. They were all in the same Mafia organization—and it required each member to have the green, coiled snake tattoo.”

  "Well, thank you." She accepted the compliment with a smile.

  "On what little information I had from the beginning, I called the Bureau and started the ball rolling, to plan for every possible scenario, and that's when Riley flew out here to stage everything. He put in wiretaps, and had the Russians tailed, to see what they were up to. It became obvious it was something critical, but we still didn't have a clue so we planned for the worst case scenario—that the hidden suitcase bomb had been found.”

  "Hmmm...that's amazing! I had no idea all that went on behind the scenes. Why didn't you confide in me?"

  He laughed out loud, as they left the terrace, entered the hotel, and headed for the elevator, “Because it was on a need to know basis, and at that point, there wasn't a need for you to know!”

  Turning to stare at him, she said, with faux indignation, "Really!"

  By this time, they were inside, and had reached the elevators, "I'm sorry," he said with a sheepish grin, amused by her reaction, but the night you were followed, I feared something was very wrong. Then, of course, they hunted both of us down, we were captured, and landed in the enemy's lair. From that point on, I knew our lives were in serious danger, and there was no time to chat about my back story—we had to escape!

  "I understand now...I was sort of a brat, about it all...sorry!"

  "True," he grinned, “however, when we made it to my place and found Kaufman murdered, I had to get in touch with Riley. The team had already set up the ground work, the surveillance and wiretaps, and so, it was time to rock and roll."

  "I thought we were the ones that produced the critical information when we decrypted the flash drive?" Paisley was puzzled.

  The elevator door opened, they stepped in and Boone pushed the button for the fifth floor. The doors slid shut, and they were alone in the elevator, he ignored her question.

  "My team was prepared from the beginning, because of the agent from Minneapolis, getting the tip from the informant, stating the item which was being negotiated by the Russian Mafia, and concerned weapons of mass destruction."

  "Oh, yes—I forgot about the original FBI guy…”

  Boone continued, "When Riley and the men arrived, they amassed covertly, in a strategic location outside Brainerd. This transpired at night so as not to draw attention."

  "So, I guess I wasn't much help in all this?" Paisley said, with disappointment.

  "To the contrary, Ms. Ingles! You were the one with the most important clue of all—your decryption of the final piece of the puzzle. The flash drive information verified it was a suitcase bomb, and most importantly, it gave us the exact directions to its location!"

  The doors opened on the fifth floor, and she stepped out followed by Boone, then stopped and turned to look at him, "But I still don't see how all this connects to the Gregore Kamorov murder? Why kill him?"

  "Okay," Boone said, crossing his arms, "Kamorov, a computer geek, lived in Zolotov's house and was helping with technical things needed by Zolotov for computer communications, with the Russian Mafia leader. However, Kamorov somehow gained possession of Zolotov's flash drive, hacked into it, discovered the plot, and decided to sell it to the US government, for a hefty price."

  "So, the US was being extorted by Kamorov, and we still have no idea, who killed him." She stated. They were standing in front of the elevator by themselves, still discussing things, when a couple walked up to the elevator to wait. Boone led Paisley down the hallway towards her room, before answering.

  "Yes, actually we do know who the killer is. While we were being chased aro
und the countryside, the police discovered a body floating in one of the old mine pits, which had been filled with water to create a lake. It was the body of a man named Lenny Starko, also of Russian descent, and, with the same tattoo as the others!"

  She said, ”The tattoos helped to link these guys to one another, for sure!”

  "True! He'd been shot in the head, with a gun belonging to Zolotov. There are other facts that point to Starko as the killer of my friend, Dave. It was done with the same knife, used to kill Ivan."

  "So, it seems like this Lenny character, had become a liability to Zolotov, because why else would he kill him? Right?”

  Boone added, ” Yes, Zolotov killed him. When Lenny searched Ben's Burgers and couldn't find the flash drive, he went to your Aunt's farm house and searched, still coming up empty-handed. Then he figured Ivan had it, and killed him to get it. This was drawing too much attention to Zolotov and sooner or later, Lenny would have been linked to Zolotov's group. Starko was a cold blooded, psychopath killer.

  She was shocked, "What a mess! So, Lenny killed Ivan, too? And what about Yury Panuken?" They were walking slowly now, so she could finish her questioning.

  "Yury was totally innocent, without any knowledge of what was going on, he was focused on his education. He has since, relocated to another college near the cities, to continue his studies, and hopes to graduate and become not only a doctor, but a US citizen!"

  They had reached her door, "Good for Yury! You've sure been busy piecing this together," she said as she stood by her door.

  "There are others taken into custody, as well."

  "Good! I'm relieved they're all gone!" She commented.

  She slid her key card into the door to unlock it, then turned, to say good night.

  Boone said, “Wait, hold on a minute, not so fast, there's more." Boone put his arm out to hold the door, "Unfortunately, Zolotov's top man, managed to escape when Zolotov's house was raided, and he's still being hunted. Chances are, he's headed for Canada with false passports, and will make it back to Russia, through some circuitous route."

  “Isn’t there a way to find him?”

  "The police took every shred of evidence, from Zolotov's house, and other places occupied by the Russians, in hopes the information would lead to the head of the Mafia organization in Russia, who set this project in motion. It's possible the Mafia leader, whose name is Tazvoshenko, may have also killed the man originally responsible for hiding the suitcase bombs years ago, in locations around the world. So, as you see, there's still a lot more to investigate."

  "Hmmm…that's disturbing,” and she frowned at this disquieting news.

  ”By the way, we'll meet tomorrow morning in the lobby, at 8:00 a.m., will that work for you?"

  "Yes, of course, and thanks for the milkshake, and for filling in the blanks. What an adventure this has been, it wasn’t the simple murder that I thought we’d solve!” She grinned and said good night.

  "Good night, Paisley…just so you know, I couldn't have had a better partner, and I feel this isn’t the last time we’ll have the opportunity, to work together…”

  "If you say so, Deedrick," she countered, and they both laughed, at her use of his first name.

  EPILOGUE

  Monday, June 12, 2017

  Pinecrest, Minnesota

  Two weeks and four days (to be exact), after Paisley's amazing trip to DC, she went back to work, surprised to see how many of her fellow officers knew of her exploits—the news traveled fast! Of course, everyone had seen the articles in the Pinecrest and Brainerd newspapers, and TV. However, what people didn’t know, was the FBI dictated what they wanted to be reported, which differed greatly, from the true story, which was classified.

  Only Paisley, Boone and the FBI knew the real truth, and Paisley and Boone were sworn to secrecy, because of it being a national security matter. As far as the public knew, Paisley and Boone identified the killer of Gregore Kamorov, and several others, as Lenny Starko. The articles described Paisley and Boone's great work, in discovering his true identity—that of a Russian terrorist.

  The news media quoted them: “We chased the subject through rough terrain for several days, until we discovered his body, floating in an old water-filled, mine pit, in the Cayuna Range, with a self-inflicted gunshot wound, then matched his prints to those found at the murder scene of Gregore Kamorov, and Ivan Belenski.” The media described the two Detectives, as heroes.

  A picture of Boone and Paisley, also accompanied the newspaper stories and the TV news reports, along with a description of their trip to FBI headquarters, where they received special recognition and certificates for their great work, in ridding the country of a terrorist. The only people to know about the suitcase bomb, were the FBI’s Special Unit, Boone, and Paisley. The case was now officially closed.

  Stepping into her office on Monday morning, for the first time, since returning from DC, and it comforted her to have several computers waiting to be worked on—not to mention—Millie to greet her!

  "Hey Pais, how's it going!" They hugged.

  "Well, after a month now, I think I've finally caught up on my sleep, and I'm back to my normal life.” She put her purse on the floor and reached for the computers on the shelf.

  "Oh no—you're a celebrity now! You don't get to have a normal life!" she laughed.

  "Really? Please, Millie, I’m trying to move past all that..."

  "Then how about going out for a bite to eat, with me and Sue tonight? It's been awhile…”

  Paisley looked at Millie, and said, "I'm totally up for doing that, although I do hate leaving Aunt Olga alone, but I've stayed home with her in the evenings since her husband's death for month now, and I don't think she'll mind if I'm not there for one evening."

  Brainerd Millie chose Applebee's. When Paisley arrived, Millie and Sue were already there. They laughed and talked and had a great meal, then ordered coffee and began to chat.

  Millie said, "Well, you see…I had a small part in your case too, because I identified the snake tattoo!"

  "True," Paisley said, "and it turned out to be, a very valuable clue!"

  Sue, not to be outdone, said, "Well, I also, had something to add to the case!" She smiled.

  Paisley and Millie both looked at her with surprise, and Paisley said, "What was that?"

  "Well, after the murder of Ivan Belenski, I saw his picture in the paper, and recognized him from the library...he came in after Kamorov was murdered and used a computer. I contacted the police—in case it might be important—and they discovered somehow, I don't know how, his connection to Zolotov!"

  "No way!” Paisley said, “No one told me about this, but of course, I haven't been out with you guys, for the last month.”

  "Oh, yes!" Sue continued,”They got something off the computer he'd used. They disconnected it and took it for evidence! You were gone by that time or you probably would have been the one to work on it, Paisley!"

  "Well, what do you know, my two friends, are amateur detectives, too!" They all had a laugh over this, and were congratulating each other, but Sue’s laugh was so infectious, that they were almost unable to stop—tears were rolling down their cheeks, before they could get control.

  Paisley said, “It feels so good to laugh that hard, again.”

  At the close of their evening, they ordered coffee, and Sue asked Paisley a provocative question, "What are your plans? Will you stay at the police department?"

  "I have a question, too," Millie said coyly, "...so what's going on with you and Detective Boone? I hear he's still in town!"

  "Here's the answer to both—I don't know!" Paisley blushed, in spite of herself.

  "Way to avoid the question," Millie said.

  They all grinned and Paisley said, “Well, you never, never, know!”

  June 15, 2017 Somewhere in Russia

  In his dacha, hidden in a remote area of Russia, Tazvoshenko and several of his loyal followers were hiding to keep the disappointed (to say the least), bad ch
aracters from finding them to deliver retribution, after his failed attempt to acquire the suitcase bomb, as promised. The disgruntled despots, who bought into the project, never recovered their investments, and now, there was a huge price on Tazvoshenko’s head—their goal was to annihilate him and the men left over, from his decimated Mafia organization.

  Tazvoshenko eagerly awaited the return of Lev, whom he’d sent to the US to locate the Detectives, Paisley Ingles and Deedrick Boone. These two, had disrupted and destroyed his men, his project and his Mafia organization, leaving nothing for him, except a desire for revenge, at all costs. Weeks later, when Lev returned, from the US, he was able to give Tazvoshenko the information, for which he’d eagerly awaited. They sat down over cups of Espresso.

  Lev began, “The female has been living with the Shenkovskys, in Brainerd, Minnesota.”

  Shocked by this, Tazvoshenko said, “Are you sure?” Lev nodded and Tazvoshenko smiled a slow, evil smile which turned to rage. “Perfect!” He pounded the table with his massive fist, almost overturning their espressos. “I will get revenge for newest betrayal and destruction of my Mafia business! Also revenge for old an betrayal—by the Shenkovskys! How do you know it’s the Shenkovskys? I search for them many years. They stole from me. I knew I’d find them someday!”

  “I thought you would be surprised,” Lev said. “Lenny Starko, ransacked their house to find the Ingles Detective, and guess what he found instead? A picture of them—the Shenkovskys! The two of them are in this old picture,” and he handed the black and white photo to his boss. “Starko gives it to me. He is dead now.”

  “Eventually, they will all be killed for what they did, now and in past! I will have my revenge!” he screamed, as he stood and shook his fist in the air, causing even Lev, to recoil.

  THE END

  AUTHOR’S NOTE

  THE SUITCASE, is only a story, which I concocted, but there are several FACTS, in my fictional story. I was inspired to create a “what if” scenario, based on information I came across, while doing research. My research turned up information on a high-ranking Russian defector, who testified in government sub-committees, concerning sites containing caches, stocked with Russian military equipment, which were situated in locations, in Europe, and the United States, during the Cold War.