by J. C. Fields
Not taking his eyes off the monitor, JR said, “Wait, watch this.” He clicked the mouse again and the time stamp jumped forward another forty-three minutes. As the motion started again, Kyle Sandifer hurried out of the building, turned left and walked out of camera range.
Sandy turned to Kruger. “Should I head to Washington?”
“Not yet. I’ll ask Clark to speak with Sandifer about this little encounter.”
Knoll nodded and returned his attention to the computer monitor as JR replayed the sequences.
An instant message appeared on the middle monitor: Call for you on line 1.
JR stood and motioned for both Kruger and Knoll to follow him as he headed for the conference room. As Kruger shut the door, JR plugged his laptop into a USB port on the side of the Polycom phone unit occupying the center of the conference table. When he was satisfied the two were connected, he hit the button for line one.
“This is JR.”
“Mr. Diminski, this is Dennis Greene. How are you today, sir?”
“Mr. Greene, I told you during our last phone call, the company is not for sale.”
As he spoke, his fingers danced on the laptop keyboard.
“Yes, you did mention that, but you also agreed to look at our offer.”
“I did look at your offer and the company is still not for sale.”
“I see. My client will be most disappointed. They don’t like being disappointed.”
“They’ll just have to get over it.”
“If we increased the offer, would you reevaluate your decision?”
“Mr. Greene, I don’t know how to be clearer than to say the company is not for sale, period. Regardless of your offer.”
The only sounds in the room were JR typing on the keyboard and the hiss of air forced through the ventilation ducts as they waited for the caller to reply.
“Very well. I have been authorized to make the following amendment to our original proposal, Mr. Zachara.”
JR stopped typing and his head jerked up. His eyes widened and Kruger saw his friend take a deep breath and bring one hand to his forehead.
“I beg your pardon,” JR said slowly.
“You heard me. We know who you are and what happened after the sale of CWZ Software.”
Kruger started to say something, but JR raised his left hand and shook his head rapidly. The FBI agent stayed silent.
“What do you propose to do with this information, Mr. Greene? I will assume that is not your real name.”
“Very astute, Mr. Zachara. When you agree to sell your company, we will remove your resume from our records and things will return to normal.”
“If I refuse?”
There was a slight chuckle on the other side of the call.
“Use your imagination, John. If we know your real name, your association with CWZ Software and the truth about what happened to Abel Pymel, think about what else we might know.”
“Is that a threat?”
“Take it for what it is. An additional incentive to sell your company.”
“How long do I have to think about it?”
“I’ll call tomorrow at this time. Have your attorney in the room so we can finalize the deal.”
The call ended.
JR looked over at Kruger and Knoll, who were now sitting across from him. Knoll tilted his head and asked, “CWZ Software? What was that all about?”
JR took a deep breath. “It’s the name of the company I helped form with Tony Chien and Steve Wilson after college. We were all computer nerds. Tony and Steve wrote code and I debugged it. The company was Tony’s idea. He asked Steve and me to join him. Thus, CWZ Software. Those first few years, we’d work till two or three in the morning, crash and start all over again at nine or ten the next morning. We had a blast.
“After our first program was released, Tony stopped programming and became our one-man sales department. Within six months, we had twenty people working for us. Steve was the genius behind all of the different products and I was the guy who simplified the code and kept the programs working. We made a good team.
“About a year after we started, Tony had a meeting in Albany and bragged about me to some New York state senator. Not long after the meeting, I was asked to consult on the redesign of the state’s revenue and licensing software.”
Kruger turned to Knoll and added, “That’s how he was able to delete his New York driver’s license file.”
Knoll smiled.
JR continued, “Everything went great for the next nine and a half years. We grew to about a hundred employees. Tony was a great individual to work for. He paid well and shared the profits with his associates. We all had shares in the company, like an ESOP, but not quite. My company is transitioning to a true ESOP structure. Back then I had chosen not to get into management, so the number of shares I owned didn’t equal Tony’s or Steve’s.
“One day, Tony gathered ten of the individuals who had been with the company the longest and had a meeting. Since Tony owned the majority of the stock, he made most of the decisions. He would consult with Steve, myself and a few others, but generally he had the final say. To start the meeting, he took a bottle of champagne from a small refrigerator and passed out plastic cups. He poured us all a small glass and said, ‘We have just made the big time. P&G Global has agreed to invest in our company.’ Steve shook his head and said, ‘Why are we celebrating? I’ve heard about them. They’ll destroy this company.’
“Tony shook his head, ‘I have it in writing. They plan to leave current management in place and provide needed funding for our next expansion.’
“It was probably thirty days after that little meeting when all the employees were called into the company’s food court for a conference. When I got there, everybody was either sitting or standing around talking. We all grew silent when three guys in dark, expensive suits walked into the room. Tony was with them, but he wasn’t wearing a suit and did not look happy. Everyone grew quiet. One of the suits was Abel Plymel.”
“I know the story from there,” Knoll nodded. “Thanks for the background, JR.”
Kruger pointed at the Polycom unit and asked, “Where did the phone call originate, JR?”
“With a cursory trace, it would appear to be New York City. But…” JR displayed a small smile as he spoke, “…it didn’t.”
“Where then?”
“You’re not going to like this.”
Rolling his eyes, Kruger shook his head slightly.
“WHERE, JR?”
“An office building in Paris.”
Knoll and Kruger stared at JR, both realizing what he was telling them.
Kruger said, “Let me guess. The office building where Dmitri Orlov is located.”
JR nodded slowly. “Another piece of the puzzle falls into place, doesn’t it?”
“It would appear so.”
“Apparently you two see something I don’t,” Knoll frowned. “What?”
“Abel Plymel was a sleeper agent planted in the United States during the Cold War to disrupt our financial markets.” Kruger took a sip of his coffee. “When the Berlin Wall fell and his handler died of a heart attack, he disappeared into the maze of Wall Street, believing no one in Russia knew about him. He amassed a fortune as a merger and acquisition specialist. As you know, Sandy, his real name was Alexei Kozlov.”
JR took up the narrative: “My guess is since Orlov was with the KGB, he knew about the sleeper agents in the US and probably knew that Kozlov was posing as Plymel.”
“They’ve been at this for a while, haven’t they?” Knoll crossed his arms over his chest and leaned back in his chair.
Kruger nodded. “Yeah, it would appear so.” He stood and walked to the end of the room and back. Stopping behind his chair, he placed his hands on the top of it. “I don’t see how Orlov could know of our association, JR. Do you?”
Shaking his head, JR pursed his lips. “With these guys, anything is possible.”
“I know he blames me for
exposing Robert Burns Jr.”
Both JR and Knoll nodded.
“And it’s public knowledge I was involved with exposing Plymel as Kozlov. So why, all of a sudden, are you involved, JR?”
“I don’t know, but we’re avoiding the real question here.”
Both Knoll and Kruger looked at JR. Knoll said, “What’s that?”
“How did they know my birth name?”
Chapter 15
Springfield, MO
Kruger stared at JR for several silent moments.
“You’re right, too many coincidences. There has to be a relationship somewhere.”
Knoll pursed his lips, “There’s another question we haven’t discussed.”
Both JR and Kruger answered in unison: “What?”
“If they know where you are, do they know about your family?”
JR jumped from his chair, went to his cubicle and brought back his cell phone. He touched an icon and pressed the phone to his ear. The call went unanswered. Turning his back to his friends, JR wrote a short text message to Mia and sent it. He closed his eyes and said a silent prayer.
A minute later, the phone chirped. JR wasted little time answering it.
“Where are you?”
“Joey and I are at the grocery store, why?”
JR looked at Knoll, who nodded and stood. JR returned his attention to phone.
“Which one?”
“The one across the highway from your office. Why? What’s up?”
“Sandy is heading that way. Stay in a crowd until he gets there.”
“JR, you’re scaring me. What’s going on?”
“I’ll explain when I see you. Stay on the line. He’ll be there in less than five minutes.”
Looking at Knoll, JR said, “She’s across the highway at the grocery store. Can you go get her?”
“My pleasure. We’ll be back in a few.”
When the big man was gone, JR returned to talking to Mia. Four minutes later, he heard the distinct sound of Knoll’s voice over the phone.
“Mia, I’m ending the call. Do what Sandy says.”
“Okay, JR.”
With Mia in safe hands, JR stared at Kruger and said, “I need to leave town for a while.”
“What about Mia?”
“She and Joey can stay at Joseph’s. They’re leaving soon and Jimmie will be there. Mary’s due back from Washington today to do some packing.”
“I’ve seen your paranoia before, but never like this. What are you thinking?”
“Sean, you more than anyone else know how completely I deleted all public records of my prior life when I came here seven years ago.”
“Yes. The only thing left was a top-secret Army file even the FBI couldn’t get to. But I also know President Osborne pardoned John Zachara of all criminal charges before he left office two years ago.”
A small smile appeared on JR’s lips as he said, “My old life holds nothing but bad memories. It’s as dead to me as the name John Zachara. I am JR Diminski.”
He stood and did something Kruger had never seen him do.
He started pacing.
“JR, think about it for a few moments. There has to be a connection somewhere. How in the world could Orlov know you were involved with Kozlov?”
“There is only one way. The hacker in Mexico City.”
JR stopped and stared at is friend. “The one who arranged for the body to be found?”
A small nod was Kruger’s answer.
“What do you know about this hacker?”
“Not much. He keeps a low profile on the internet and only frequents a few chat rooms. Why?”
“Could he also work for Orlov?”
JR was quiet as he started pacing again. After taking a deep breath, he let it out slowly. “I didn’t think about that. I guess it’s possible.”
“I think it’s more than possible.”
“Then I have to find him.”
“How?”
“I’m going to Mexico City. He’s the only possible link. There is no other way for Orlov to know who I am.”
“Does this person in Mexico City know who you are?”
Silence returned to the conference room.
“I don’t see how, but…”
“It’s possible.”
“He’s good, maybe as good as I am. As Sir Arthur Conan Doyle said, ‘Once you eliminate the impossible, whatever remains, no matter how improbable, must be the truth.’ It’s the only explanation.”
“You’re not going by yourself.”
“I can take care of myself.”
“Yes, but you can’t speak Spanish.”
JR didn’t answer.
“Jimmie can go with you.”
“I thought he was going to make sure nothing happened to Mia and Joey?”
“I know a few local FBI agents who will be more than willing to help while we’re gone.”
“We?”
Kruger nodded.
A smile came, once again, to JR’s lips.
***
Gibbs sat across from JR, a mug of coffee in his hand. Sandy Knoll sat next to him. They were situated at the kitchen table in Joseph’s Christian County home.
“What did you want to talk to me about, JR?”
Looking up from his laptop, JR pursed his lips and sighed.
“How familiar are you with Mexico City?”
Gibbs gave JR a slight smile and asked, “By familiar, do you mean I know my way around, or I know where the place is?”
“The former.”
“I can tell you were the good bars are located and which tourist bars to avoid. Why?”
JR glanced at Knoll, who nodded slightly.
“I’m searching for someone I believe lives there. But, without eyes and ears physically in Mexico City, I won’t be able to pin him down.”
“There’s nine million people in Mexico City,” Knoll frowned. “How do you propose we find him?”
Jimmie chuckled slightly, “Like we found Trinh Huy?”
Nodding, JR closed the laptop.
“A little more difficult than Huy. But, yeah, the same concept.”
Trinh Huy was a Vietnamese ex-pat living in Bangkok who was responsible for financing Islamic terrorists in Malaysia. He was the money man behind a series of planned attacks in the United States against targets in twenty different cities by immigrants from Vietnam and Malaysia. JR had been instrumental in uncovering the plot, allowing Knoll and his team to intercept the attackers before they could act. He also helped find Huy in the busy city of Bangkok. The team was able to find him because Huy, being over confident about his security, never changed cell phones and frequented the same restaurants.
Sipping his coffee again, Gibbs looked over the mug to ask, “Who is this guy?”
“I actually don’t know who he is. He’s a hacker I’ve had contact with for about ten years. The only fact I know about him is he’s located in Mexico City.”
“How do you know that?”
JR smiled. “I needed his assistance on a project a few years ago.”
Gibbs smiled and nodded.
Knoll sat his coffee mug down. “JR, could this guy have moved since then?”
“Sandy, I’m not even sure it’s a guy. I’ve always assumed he was. The hacker community is gender neutral and faceless. But the point is, he’s still in Mexico City.”
“Okay, how do you propose we find him?”
“I make contact and ask for help again.”
Raising his eyebrows, Gibbs said, “Again?”
Knoll frowned. “You probably need to tell Jimmie what he did for you seven years ago.”
Nodding slowly, JR said, “He’s the individual who arranged for a body, identified as Plymel, to be found in Mexico City?”
Knoll grinned.
“So, what actually happened to Plymel?” Gibbs asked.
“He never left Missouri. His body is at the bottom of the deepest part of Stockton Lake.”
“How’d that happen?
”
JR just smiled.
“Oh…” Gibbs grinned. “So, this Plymel guy was really a Russian named Kozlov?”
“Yes.”
“You think Orlov knew him?”
“That’s the current working theory.”
“The what?”
“Sean was able to determine the truth and discovered Plymel was really Kozlov, a former KGB sleeper agent. Orlov’s job with the KGB, before the fall of the Soviet Union, was overseeing the department responsible for those types of agents. The thinking is Orlov knew about Kozlov and when he disappeared, started making inquiries.”
Taking another sip of his coffee, Gibbs was quiet for a few moments. “So, you think this hacker in Mexico sold you out?”
“Kind of a harsh way to put it, but yeah.”
“How dangerous was this Kozlov person?”
“He hired someone to look for me and when he did, Mia was kidnapped.” He paused and took a deep breath. “She almost died. Once again, without the help of Sean and Sandy, she wouldn’t have made it. After that, Kozlov went on a killing spree. That’s when he shot Sandy and Mike at my old building.”
“We lost a good man that day.” Knoll crossed his arms over this massive chest, his gaze on a distant spot out the sliding glass door of Joseph’s house.
JR continued, “I made a deal with Kozlov: I would return his money if he left us all alone. He agreed, although I knew he had no intention of keeping his end of the bargain. So, I didn’t either.”
Knoll broke out of his funk to pick up the story.
“A year later I got curious and visited the spot where you shot Kozlov.” He turned to Gibbs. “Eight hundred yards from the loft of a rickety, falling-down barn. How many shots did it take, JR? Two?”
“I don’t remember,” JR shrugged. “Just that the first one missed.”
“JR hadn’t made a long range shot in over ten years and nails it with two shots.”
Gibbs stared at JR with new-found respect. “Huh.”
JR returned to his narrative. “The bottom line is I had to get rid of the body and make it look like he had escaped. Kozlov’s passport and twenty thousand dollars ended up in Mexico City. The hacker arranged for an unrecognizable body to be found with the passport.”