"Zamochit," Mary said. "Lavrov and his Spetsnaz goon?"
"That would be my bet," Aaron said.
There was a pinging sound from the oven timer. Aaron put his beer down and opened the oven door.
"Dinner is served. Can we talk about something else while we eat?"
"Sure," I said. "Tell us about the fishing around here. You said it was good."
11
We sat at the breakfast table, talking. Tired from our drive yesterday, Mary and I turned in early last night, right after our dinner with Aaron. We met him at the lodge this morning. While we were eating, Aaron gave Mary a new Phorcys-supplied iPhone with a custom operating system to replace the one she lost.
Finished with breakfast, we lingered over coffee, killing time until Aaron heard from Jill Hardwick. When she called, she announced that she was entering the dirt road through the swamp. Aaron and I left Mary in the lodge to wait for Jill while we took the trail out to where we left my rental SUV.
"Will we wait for Jill to get here before we take off?" I asked. "The road's too narrow for us to pass her on our way out."
Aaron and I were going to a quick meeting with Mike and Bob. According to Aaron, they wanted a few minutes with me outside Mary's hearing. Besides, Jill Hardwick wanted Mary to herself for their first day's counseling session.
Aaron chuckled at my question. "No. She's coming in by a different route. There are several ways to get through the swamp. We wanted to make sure that our comings and goings wouldn't be easy to observe, so we rotate the use of the routes. Jill will park in another spot and take a different trail. She may already be introducing herself to Mary."
"I see," I said, as we got in the SUV. "Where to?" I asked, as Aaron buckled his seatbelt.
"Make your way back to the Tamiami Trail and head for Marco Island. We've got a safe house there. Mike and Bob should be there about the time we get there."
"What's on tap after we meet them? We've got the day to kill, right?"
"I'll be surprised if they don't have some suggestions for you on how to spend your time while Jill works with Mary."
"Speaking of Jill," I said, "how did she come to join us?"
"Once you killed Nora and Lavrov got her boss, our old group fell apart. There was nobody left except the worker-bees. Then you killed the Secretary, and there was nobody left who even knew Nora's little group existed."
Aaron and I worked for Nora; her boss was an undersecretary reporting to the Secretary of Defense. We were there for about 20 years before we left and became part of Phorcys. We discovered our whole chain of command was corrupt. Before we left, we did some cleanup work, and then we parted ways with them. Part of our cleanup was getting rid of Nora, but that's another story.
"So you and Mike and Bob have been doing a little recruiting?"
"Sort of. Let's just say the sharper people found their way to us. The ones who had a good handle on what was going on. That would be Jill and a few of my key people from the intel group."
"What will happen to the others?"
"I'm not sure. The other field operatives won't have a problem finding work, and the inside troops will get absorbed into the bureaucracy without much trouble."
"How many of them know what happened, do you think?" I asked.
"Only the field operatives would have a clue — Nora's direct reports. The others who were left were so compartmentalized they have no idea what the group was even doing."
"The field operatives are the ones who worry me," I said.
"Yeah. Don't lose sleep over it. We're on top of them. There weren't many, and most of them have been picked up by other agencies already. You know what those people are like; they've got their own connections, just like you and I do."
"What if some of them go astray? Or go into business for themselves?"
"So far, none of them has. But if that happens, we'll take care of it. We know who they are, and there's not one who's a match for you and Mary. If we need to, we'll take them out."
"Speaking of Mary, do you have a reading on where Mike and Bob come out on her?" I asked.
"As far as I know, that's up to you and Jill. You're the one with the most at stake; they trust your judgment."
"What about you?"
"What do you mean, Finn?"
"You've been busy digging into everything there is to know about her, Aaron. I know you; you would've done that whether or not Bob and Mike ordered it. She's pulled the wool over my eyes before; I'm being cautious. I want to know if you've found anything that's inconsistent with her story — her recent story, or her ancient history. If I have to make the call on her, I want to know as much as there is to know."
"Yeah, I hear you. There's nothing that sticks out. We haven't been able to backtrack from that one killing she told you about — the one that brought her to the attention of her 'broker,' as Mary refers to the woman. All we know about that is what she told you earlier. She probably killed a few lowlifes before she got him, but nobody that attracted any attention. The one she told you about the other night got a lot of publicity, but nothing that tied back to her."
"What kind of publicity?"
"He was a rich kid. A campus cop found him with his pants around his ankles in his Mercedes roadster in a spot near the edge of the campus that was favored for late-night trysts. He was gagged, his hands bound to the steering wheel with duct tape. Kneecapped and sexually mutilated. Left there to bleed out, which didn't take too long, according to the coroner's report." Aaron paused and looked over at me.
"Ugly," I said. "No evidence to point to a killer?"
"No. The rounds in his knees were hollow-points fired at close range — contact shots. The bullets were too fragmented to yield any usable ballistic markings. The guess was nine-millimeter, but that's about it. The cutting was done with an extremely sharp knife — nice, clean wounds. And the victim was no angel. Several women accused him of sexual assault over the years, but none of them would testify. Speculation was they were either intimidated or paid off to keep them quiet. Or both, in a couple of cases."
"No wonder that got the broker's attention."
"Yeah. There was a lot of press coverage. The kid's father was a high-roller, a big operator in politics at the state level. A money man. He made sure all the relatives of his son's accusers were thoroughly investigated. The case is still open — unsolved."
"Sounds like he got what was coming to him," I said.
"Yeah. That was the sentiment in the opinion pieces in the press. Still, it was a vicious piece of work. And well done, too. But to answer your question, that's the first time we could pick up Mary's trail, other than what was in the private detective's report on her that Bob gave us. And we would have never connected her to that hit, except for what she told you the other night."
"Are you sure she did it?"
"Well, that's a good question. The short answer is no, but given what she told you, it's highly likely that she did. The timing fits perfectly with the beginning of her odd travels back in her student days. Plus, it wasn't too long after that that she began to show evidence of a big change in her finances. Nothing too flashy, mind you, but enough of a change to support the story that she found work. And that's about all I know, except the stuff she did for Phorcys before you and I joined. I hope that makes you feel better about her."
"It does. Thanks."
"Glad I could help. Pull into that subdivision up there on the left. We want the sixth house on the right, on the main road."
12
The house was in an upscale development. The homes weren't overwhelming, but this was an expensive neighborhood. Upper middle class, but nothing too flashy. There was an ordinary-looking SUV in the semicircular driveway.
"That's Bob's car," Aaron said, pointing at the SUV. "Just pull in behind it."
Pulling up close to Bob's vehicle, I got out and stretched the kinks out of my back. When Aaron slammed his door, I locked the car with the remote, and we walked up to the entrance. I rang th
e bell, and Mike opened the door.
"Come in, gentlemen," Mike said. "Bob and I are in the den; there's coffee and juice if you'd like."
He motioned for us to go through an archway, and Bob greeted us as we entered the living room. "Good morning. Make yourselves comfortable. Need a break from the road or anything?"
"Morning, Bob, Mike," I said. "I'm okay for now."
"Same here," Aaron said.
"Good," Mike said. "Have a seat and let's get started. Jill sent us a text a few minutes ago; she and Mary are settling in with one another. Finn, now that you're away from her, what do you think?"
That was Mike; no beating around the bush for him. "I think she's okay. Still struggling to put the pieces in order — her memory of what happened before Charleston was scrambled, but it's coming back. I couldn't tell how far back in time her confusion went. But then I didn't know her all that long before Charleston. She's also annoyed with herself for losing control, as she puts it."
"Losing control?" Bob asked. "What does she mean by that?"
"She's upset that she flipped out and killed the people on Anastasia. She says it was a temper tantrum; it didn't meet her self-imposed standards of professionalism."
"Uh-huh," Bob said, with a nod. "Her psychotic break could explain that, according to Jill. I'm surprised her own therapist didn't help her figure that out."
"She held back a lot of information from Dr. Peterson; Mary didn't want to put her in an ethical bind."
"I'm not sure I see the logic there," Bob said. "I think telling a shrink about past crimes is protected. It's telling them about crimes you plan to commit that's a problem."
I shrugged. "I can only go by what Mary told me. When her broker's people hooked her up with Peterson, they warned her about what she could say safely. Maybe they were overly cautious, or maybe she misunderstood."
"From what Jill told us, the drugs and the shock of being snatched off the street would have been enough to set Mary off," Mike said. "And she said the shock of Mary's coming to grips with killing the crew on Lavrov's yacht would have added to her problems. Do you see anything that argues against that view?"
"No," I said. "Unless Jill comes up with something we haven't thought of, I think Mary's playing straight with us."
"What's your take on whether we can put her back to work?"
"I'm comfortable with her loyalty. What worries me is the effect it will have on Mary if we ask her to kill again. I'd like Jill's opinion on that."
"Right," Bob said. "Same here. We already asked Jill about it. Her answer was guarded, as you'd expect. But she says that if Mary's break was indeed triggered by the drugs, she'll probably be okay. She needs to deal with her feelings about the temper tantrum, but other than that, Jill says the prognosis is good — pending her first-hand examination, of course."
"Jill's other comment was something about not waiting too long to get back on the horse," Mike said. "If Mary's psychotic break was really what we think, then she'll be okay to return to duty once she sorts out her confusion. Probably the sooner the better. Jill says she's either done for good, or she'll be okay soon. Jill will know more in a few days. How do you feel about that? Trust Mary to have your back, still?"
"Yes. My gut reaction is that if Mary's in the heat of battle, her instincts will win out over this new-found doubt of hers. After all, that's what happened on Anastasia; her instincts took over."
"Good," Mike said. "We'll see where Jill comes out. Now, let's talk about you."
I looked at Mike, feeling my brow wrinkle as I wondered about his shift in direction. "About me?"
"Yes," Bob said. "We need to know how you feel about going back to work while Jill's counseling Mary."
I relaxed. "Thanks for asking, but I've been doing this almost as long as Mary has been alive. Nothing's changed as far as I'm concerned."
"You sure about that?" Mike asked. "We know how close you two are."
"Yes. My feelings for Mary aren't tangled up in what I do for a living, Mike. I appreciate your concern, but I've told Aaron before, it's like there are two different people inside me. I learned to isolate my work from my personal life a long time ago."
Mike smiled. "I knew you'd say that, but we both wanted to hear it. And Bob and I know what you mean. We've been there."
I nodded, waiting to see where he and Bob were going with this.
"We've made a decision on Lavrov," Mike said. "Before Charleston, we wanted to watch him and learn more about him, but we've changed our position. He's too dangerous; we have to take him down. First, though, we have to find him. We'll make him the next target for you and Mary, once she's got Jill's blessing."
"Okay," I said. "If I'm right about Mary, she'll like that. No matter what she says, she's extra pissed off at Lavrov after Charleston. Getting even with him will appeal to her. Just my uneducated opinion, you understand."
Mike and Bob laughed.
"What's funny?" I asked.
"Your uneducated opinion, my ass," Mike said. "You're a shrewd judge of people. Save that 'aw, shucks' routine for somebody who doesn't know you."
"Well, I — "
"Hey, Finn?" Bob asked.
"Yes?"
"We've got an idea on how to draw Lavrov out into the open. Let's kick that around. We're spinning our wheels talking about Mary until Jill gets through with her."
"Okay," I said. "What's your idea?"
"The police are still holding those two men who attacked Dr. Peterson. We're thinking about starting the rumor that they're cooperating. That there's a secret federal task force that's going to roll up their whole chain of command, including David Grissom and whoever he's working for."
"How's that going to get Lavrov out in the open?" I asked. "Seems like it would have the opposite effect."
"Well, if that's all we did, it probably wouldn't flush him out. But we have in mind some sleight of hand that will make him think more of his direct reports are cooperating. He'll have to respond to the threat; if it's broad enough, he may be forced out in the open. Besides Grissom, we're thinking about Stringfellow and Theroux. Remember them?"
"Savannah and Charleston," I said. "Mary and I were staking out Theroux when she was snatched in Charleston."
"Yes," Bob said.
"But based on what we know about Lavrov's methods," I said, "when they met him, they were blindfolded. They can't identify him, so why will Lavrov see them as threats?"
"We've been thinking about something Mary suggested, back before she was kidnapped," Mike said. "Remember when Lavrov left her that voicemail pretending he wanted to recruit her as his enforcer?"
"Yes. What about it?" I asked.
"She wanted to send him a text to provoke him, get him off balance," Bob said. "Or maybe even take him up on it and go undercover in his organization."
"I remember. She was hoping we could make him stumble somehow and give himself away. We were still thinking that over when his people snatched her."
"Right," Mike said. "We've decided we like that idea."
"Wait," I said. "We thought that was too dangerous for her back then. It's even more dangerous now."
"It was her idea of actually going undercover with him that was too dangerous," Mike said. "Provoking Lavrov won't make him any more dangerous than he already is."
"But isn't it a little late for Mary to send him a text responding to his voicemail? That was over a month ago."
"Yes, probably so," Bob said. "We have a different provocation in mind. We'll plant the rumor about that bogus federal task force, and then we will make Stringfellow, Theroux, and Grissom disappear. We want to make it look like they're being held somewhere. Then we'll do the same with his guy in Miami."
"You want us to kidnap them?" I asked.
"No. That's too much trouble. Just kill them, but leave no sign. No bodies, no evidence of what happened." Mike said. "Then Aaron's people will run a disinformation campaign to make it appear that the four of them are in custody somewhere."
"Wait," I said. "That won't fly. If they were under arrest, they would be entitled to lawyers; they wouldn't be invisible."
"Only if the government were following the rule of law," Mike said. "But they aren't — not these days. That's why we're here."
"Granted," I said. "But I still don't see how this would work."
"Think about the government rhetoric these days, equating the war on drugs to the war on terror," Aaron said, breaking his long silence.
"Okay," I said. "So you plan to put out the word that they're terrorists. How does that change things?"
"Guantanamo," Aaron said, "or better yet, a mysterious black site that nobody knows about."
"But these guys are U.S. citizens," I said. "The government can't treat them that way. Lavrov's smart enough to know that."
"Correction," Aaron said. "The law doesn't allow the government to treat them that way. But our current government isn't playing by the rules. Picture what will happen once these four disappear in the middle of the night and the word leaks out that they're being held incommunicado. No lawyers, nobody even knows where they are, because they're such dangerous terrorists. And that they're being interrogated under duress."
"The liberal establishment will be all over it," I said. "They'll be standing in line at the courthouses to file lawsuits."
Aaron grinned. "Most likely. The government will deny everything, but nobody believes what they say any more. Their denials will just reinforce the bogus story."
"Talk about 'fake news,'" I said.
"Hey, they're the ones who coined that phrase," Aaron said. "We're just showing them how to play the game they invented."
"Okay," I said. "This will make the government look like a bunch of thugs again. Nothing new there. How's that going to flush out Lavrov?"
"His operation will come to a sudden halt in the southeastern U.S. He'll have a big staffing problem; he'll have to replace four of his key people, his direct reports. Besides that, he's going to turn up the heat on the bureaucrats and politicians who are on his payroll. He'll blame them for letting this happen. Lavrov's no armchair general; he's going to have to show up on the front line, where the action is. And we're determining where the action is, so we'll have you and Mary waiting for him."
Villains and Vixens Page 6
