by J. C. Fields
She took another sip of wine. “Okay, about what?”
“Uh…” He paused as he sipped his glass of Cabernet. “Do you remember the terrorist attack in Fayetteville, Arkansas, a few years back?”
“Sure, who doesn’t.”
“I’ve always been fascinated about how it was prevented. I’m thinking about writing a book about it.”
“Really. Have you ever written a book?”
“No,” he shook his head. “That’s what I wanted to ask you. You’re a researcher—how do you do it?”
She smiled. “I could help and show you how.”
“That would be nice. When?”
“How about tonight, your place?”
“Would we get any work done?”
“Maybe, but I doubt it.”
He chuckled. “I was thinking about starting with the FBI agent who is credited with stopping it. How would I find more about him?”
“Oh, that’s easy. I did an extensive work-up on him. Unfortunately, the paper didn’t use any of the material.”
“Why?”
“I was never told for sure, but I heard a wild rumor the president asked the publisher not to print the story.”
“Really?”
She nodded as she sipped her wine again.
“Could I look at it?”
“I don’t see why not. I can access the file from my laptop. Will I get credit in your book?”
“I’ll definitely give you credit when it’s published.”
***
Brenda was correct. They got very little work done after returning to Yanovich’s apartment. The nude woman lay next to him, gently snoring. He quietly slipped out of bed and put on a pair of jogging pants. When he was in the kitchen, he took the flash drive she had saved the file to and inserted it in his own laptop.
The information on the FBI agent was extensive and followed Kruger’s career as he rose in stature within the Bureau. It outlined his personal status as married and living in Kansas City, Missouri.
After he finished reading the file, he did a Google search on FBI Agent Sean Kruger. The information provided was disappointing. He found very little information from the search more recent than five years ago. His curiosity for the evening satisfied, he returned to his bed, stripped off his jogging pants and curled up next to the sleeping woman.
He decided violating his rule concerning women spending the night was in order. They needed to get some work done in the morning.
***
The time approached 11 p.m. in the room shared by JR and Mia at Joseph’s home. Joey lay sound asleep on a folding bed in the same room. Mia sat up in bed as she waited for JR to join her. As he lay down, his cell phone chirped with a series of sharp tones. They both frowned.
“What is it, JR?”
Shaking his head, he picked up his phone and read the message.
“I warned Larry Page about this when he was developing Google,” JR murmured.
Mia blinked several times, her eyes wide. “You know Larry Page?”
“Not really, I was at MIT when he was at Princeton. We knew of each other through various projects we worked on. He had a problem and posted a question online to our department. I got in touch with him and offered a suggestion on how to solve the issue. It did.”
“JR, are you telling me you helped develop Google?”
“No, all I did was solve an algorithm problem that helped with the search engine.”
“Oh? You never told me about it.”
“Nothing to tell,” he shrugged. “He never acknowledged the suggestion fixed it. I do remember telling him, when we spoke on the phone, his project would lead to privacy violations. He laughed and our conversation ended. It was the only time we ever spoke to each other. I am sure he forgot about me. So, a few years ago, I hacked into their system found the algorithm and modified it, uh…” He paused and gave her a mischievous grin. “Just a bit.”
She chuckled. “What did you do, JR?”
“Well, let’s just say I know how to protect you and me, Sean and Stephanie, Brian and Michelle, Joseph and Mary, plus everyone on our team from being searched by Google. Plus, I’m warned if anyone tries to search for any of us.”
Mia frowned. “Was that the warning just now? Was it about you?”
JR shook his head. “Someone is trying to determine where Sean lives.”
Chapter 23
Washington, D.C.
The Next Day
It was noon before Brenda Kozlow dressed and, with a promise to use Washington Post resources to find more information about FBI Special Agent Kruger, left the apartment. After her departure, Yanovich inserted the flash drive and read, in more detail, the information given to him by the researcher.
The FBI agent did not have a presence on Facebook or Twitter, nor did his wife or son. After a quick search for Kruger’s ex-wife and the son’s mother, Yanovich discovered the woman was deceased. With this dead-end staring him in the face, he chose a different route.
The information provided by Kozlow identified Kruger’s residence as Kansas City. Using tricks learned as a real estate attorney, he found the property, a condo on the western side of the Plaza. Unfortunately, ownership of the property changed hands four years earlier. Further search of the surrounding counties proved fruitless in his search for the agent’s new residence. Knowing full well the FBI would not tell him where Kruger lived, he searched the data on the flash drive until he found the maiden name of Kruger’s wife. A quick Google search found little about the woman except a reference to an old LinkedIn posting made before she was married. Most of it he already knew. The one piece of new information referred to a sister in Overland Park, Kansas.
A quick search of the Johnson County, Kansas, property tax files gave him an address and a phone number.
His phone call was answered on the fourth ring.
***
Linda Benton resembled Stephanie Kruger in numerous ways. Both inherited their mother’s naturally curly brown hair and both were petite. Linda, being the younger of the two sisters, possessed hazel eyes compared to her older sibling’s blue eyes. Both earned college degrees, but Linda’s interests changed after graduation. Where Stephanie went on to graduate school and later a corporate career path, Linda followed her parents into the medical field by becoming a Registered Nurse. Now twenty years later, with additional training, she held the title Nurse Practitioner.
Childless, she and her husband, David, led a hectic life both socially and career wise. Currently the administrator for the hospital system employing Linda, demands on David’s time were considerable.
The caller ID on her cell phone displayed the number and a location of the call, Washington, D.C. Curiosity overcame caution, so she answered the call.
“Hello?”
“Is this Linda Benton?”
Remembering a recent staff meeting with a discussion of phone scams, she did not answer with yes, but instead, “Who’s calling?”
Yanovich recognized the ploy.
“My name is Oscar Malkovich. I’m an attorney in Washington, D.C. and I’m trying to get in touch with Linda Benton.”
“What’s this concerning?”
“Ms. Benton, I can assure you there is nothing sinister about this call. I am merely trying to locate your sister, Stephanie.”
“I see. Well, Mr. Malkovich, I don’t know you or if you are actually an attorney, so I’m hesitant to continue this conversation.”
“I understand your concern. Let me explain the reason we need to contact Stephanie Kruger.”
“Please.”
“During her time with Hallmark, Inc. several lawsuits were filed against the company for discrimination. Ms. Kruger was named in these suits. I wanted to let her know those cases have been dismissed by an appellate court in Washington.”
Linda smiled. Now she knew the call was bogus.
“I see. I’m not comfortable giving you any contact information, Mr. Malkovich. I would prefer you give me your numbe
r and I will have her call you.”
The call ended without any additional comment from the attorney. Smiling, Linda Benton dialed her sister’s cell phone number.
***
Stephanie Kruger smiled when she glanced at the caller ID. A call from her sister was always a welcome reprieve from her day-to-day activities.
“Hi, sis.”
“Steph, where are you?”
Frowning, Stephanie hesitated for just a few moments.
“On my way to pick up Mikey at daycare. Why?”
“Have you had any strange calls recently?”
“No, why?”
“I just got a weird one. Someone in Washington is trying to contact you.”
“What did they want?”
“Your contact information. When I offered to give you his phone number, he hung up.”
“Huh.”
“You sound like Sean.”
“He can rub off on you. Tell me more about the call.”
“He mentioned the lawsuit you were in years ago and told me he needed to tell you it was dismissed in an appeals court in Washington.”
Stephanie frowned again. “That was settled—like seven years ago. Do you think it was a scam?”
“I would say so. Kind of worries me how he found me.”
“Let me talk to Sean and I’ll call you back later. Okay?”
“That would make me feel better.”
***
Kruger listened on the speaker of Stephanie’s cell phone as Linda Benton summarized the phone call from Washington. He remained quiet until she completed her narrative.
“First, thank you for not responding to his questions, Linda. It was a fishing expedition. Someone is trying to locate us.”
He heard a gasp, then silence for a few moments. “Why?” Linda asked.
Ignoring the question, Kruger said, “Call the security company you and David use and alert them about the call.”
“You’re scaring me, Sean. Should we be worried?”
“Maybe. Give me the phone number from your caller ID. I have a friend who can trace it.”
She did and afterward asked, “What should we do now, Sean?”
“At this point, nothing. Let me see what I can find out. I’m sure it was nothing but I want to make sure. Okay?”
“Okay. I called David. He wants to talk to you when he gets home.”
“Just have him call.”
“Okay, thanks, Sean.”
The call ended and Kruger took a deep breath. Stephanie stared at him with her arms crossed over her chest. “I’ve seen that look before. You’re worried.”
With a half-smile, he nodded. “Too many related incidents for them to be a coincidence. I need to get that phone number to JR and let him do his magic. Let’s hope I’m being paranoid.”
She only nodded.
***
“It’s a cell phone belonging to a D.C. attorney named Peter Yanovich. His website indicates he specializes in real estate law and merger and acquisitions negotiation.”
“Huh.”
“Born in Alaska, he moved to D.C. after getting his law degree and has been there ever since.”
“His name sounds Russian.”
“It is. His parents immigrated back in the early sixties during all the Cuban missile crisis nonsense. They settled in Alaska and became citizens in 1975. The son was born a year later.”
“JR, can you tie him to Orlov in anyway?”
The computer hacker grinned and nodded. “He’s the M&A attorney for one of Orlov’s banks.”
“Damn.” Kruger paused and rubbed his chin. “How could he have found Steph’s sister?”
“Don’t know, but I would guess something on social media. Plus, as an attorney doing real estate, I’m sure he knows how to search county property tax data.”
“Then he can find Steph and me.”
“He would have to know where to look first. Lots of counties to search, Sean.”
“I’m not going to assume he isn’t looking.”
“Wise.”
They were both sitting in the conference room on the second floor of JR’s building. Kruger stood and started pacing. After several silent laps, Kruger stopped, tilted his head to the side and asked, “How much more information can you find on Yanovich?”
“First pass was cursory. Social media, Better Business Reports, his website, American Bar Association, etc. I’m sure there’s more out there.”
“Find it. Then I’m going to have a few FBI agents pay him a visit.”
***
Tracy Adkins looked up from her computer. Brenda Kozlow stood at the entrance to her cubicle with a vanilla-colored file folder in her hands. Tracy smiled and greeted her, “Good afternoon, Brenda.”
“Hi, Tracy. I have the background you wanted.” She handed the folder to Adkins.
“Thank you.” She placed the folder on her desk and directed her attention back to the story she needed to finish before deadline.
Brenda remained standing, trying to regain Tracy’s attention. Finally, Adkins looked up again. “Is there something else, Brenda? I’m on deadline.”
“I know, I’m sorry to bother you, but would you have a few moments after you’re done?”
“Sure, come back after five, I’ll be here.”
The afternoon passed slowly, but Brenda appeared at Tracy’s cubicle promptly at 5.
“What can I help you with, Brenda?”
The researcher smiled and sat in the lone chair on the opposite side of Tracy’s desk. “You know FBI Agent Sean Kruger, don’t you?”
Adkins nodded.
“A friend of mine is working on a book about the terrorist attack on the Bud Walton Arena four years ago.”
“Really, how interesting.”
“Yes, it is. He wants to pursue it from the perspective of the FBI. So, he’s interested in interviewing Agent Kruger, but can’t seem to find any current information about him. Do you know how to contact him?”
Adkins raised an eyebrow. “What’s his name?”
“His name is Peter Yanovich; he’s an attorney. We’ve been seeing each other for about a year now. It’s kind of exciting, our relationship has progressed to the point he told me about his interest in writing a book. I’d like to help him if I can. Do you think Agent Kruger would grant him an interview?”
Blinking several times, Adkins did not respond immediately. “I don’t know, Brenda. He’s a very private individual and, as far as I know, never granted an interview about the incident. Trust me, I’ve tried. But I can ask him.”
Brenda Kozlov stood, a big smile on her face. “Thank you, Tracy. I really appreciate it.”
Adkins pulled up Google and performed several searches on her computer after the young woman left. Frowning at what she read, she waited almost ten minutes before shutting off her computer. She gathered her things and left the cubicle. Once in her car, she scrolled through her contact list on her cell phone, found the number she was looking for and pressed send. The call was answered immediately.
“Kruger.”
“Sean, it’s Tracy. How many Russians have you pissed off recently?”
“Depends, why do you ask?”
“Ever hear of an attorney named Peter Yanovich?”
The call went silent.
“I will take your silence as a yes.”
“What about him?”
“He’s supposedly writing a book about the incident in Fayetteville and wants to interview you.”
“Interesting. How did you come to know this bit of information, Tracy?”
“Apparently, one of our researchers is dating him and he’s using her to get information about you. Did you know he has a business connection to Dmitri Orlov?”
“You’re just full of good news today, Tracy.”
“What do you want me to do?”
“Don’t know. Let me think about it.”
“Do you want me to tell Ryan?”
“Yeah. Maybe Ryan needs to have a li
ttle chat with Mr. Yanovich. Tell him I’ll call him tonight.”
Chapter 24
The White House
Now in his third week as President of the United States, Roy Griffin stepped off the treadmill in the White House gym and used a towel to wipe the sweat running down his face. Running five miles inside was unlike running five miles outside.
Outside you could smell nature, see small creatures scurry out of your way, wipe rain out of your eyes, watch the sunrise, the list was endless. Inside all he could do was monitor the various news feeds on the TV monitor placed in the gym, or read briefing papers. Boring. Unlike Bill Clinton, the Secret Service would not allow him to run on the streets anymore. Too many crazies with an agenda only they knew about.
As he walked toward the door leading to the resident’s quarters, a familiar figure joined him as he walked.
“Good morning, Joseph.”
“Good morning, Mr. President.”
“You’re here awfully early.”
“First day back in Washington, sir. I wanted to get an early start.”
Grinning, Griffin glanced at his new National Security Advisor. “Bullshit, Joseph. Don’t start lying to me this early in your tenure.”
Joseph Kincaid laughed. “What I really wanted to do was to talk to you before it got too hectic around here. I have an update on what Sean Kruger has learned about the problem you asked him to check out.”
Both men stopped walking. Griffin frowned, “Is it bad?”
Nodding, Joseph said in a voice barely above a whisper, “I wouldn’t use the word bad, but it’s not good either.”
“Let’s go to my private study and we can discuss it there.”
***
Immediately off the Oval Office is a short hallway containing the president’s private lavatory and kitchenette. Across from those two rooms is a small room sometimes used as the president’s personal study. Griffin jumped at the opportunity to have a smaller, more intimate place to read and prepare for the day. It also provided a location for private discussions with his staff.