“Stop where you are,” he said, and pushed the barrel of the pistol into Lisa’s ear.
“Start talking.”
Stewart moved to my side. “Listen John, we know that a high government official is planning an attack. We don’t know his name. Ask me any question you want and I will answer. Don’t hurt the girl.”
I saw Stewart’s eyes watching something behind the big man. On the left side behind him, about three feet from his legs, Lazarus was on his haunches creeping forward. His fangs were bared, but he made no sound. I knew we had to keep John’s attention.
“John, we know that the Russian Mafia is involved in this plot.” I wanted to give him some creditable information to keep his attention on me.
“Give me the names of the people who told you,” he said.
At that moment all hell broke loose. Lazarus leaped forward and viciously clamped his teeth into John’s calf, then swung his head violently, tearing at his flesh.
John’s hands flew up instinctively, and the gun fired. I saw Stewart fall to the floor as Lisa screamed and jerked away. John was attempting to point the gun toward the wolf when I tackled him.
Lazarus released his grip when the big man crashed to the floor with me on top of him. Ham ran forward and stomped his gun hand. He kicked the gun to the side. I plummeted him with blows to his face. He went limp, blood flowing freely from his broken nose and busted lips. I knew at that moment that he was somehow associated in my wife’s death, so I took out all my frustrations and blindly continued to punch him.
Ham grabbed my shoulders and pulled me off. “He’s unconscious Michael. Don’t kill him. We need to interrogate the bastard.”
I fell to the side, attempting to catch my breath.
“Listen Michael,” Ana said. “Calm down. Lisa’s fine. We need to tend to Agent Stewart.”
I struggled to my feet and hugged my daughter. I heard Stewart’s voice, “It’s just a graze,” he said as I turned to look at him.
Lisa reached down and petted Lazarus. “Good boy,” she said. “You saved our lives.”
Ana grabbed the first aid kit from the bathroom and went to Stewart’s side. He was sitting up holding his right arm. “We need to get that shirt off,” she said.
Ana quickly cleaned the wound and bandaged it. “Just a flesh wound,” she said, “but you’ll need stitches. Ham, we need to get him to a doctor.”
“We don’t need to attempt to explain a bullet wound at a hospital,” Stewart said.
“Don’t worry,” Ana replied. “Doctor Stearling has been our friend for years and he is only twenty minutes away. He’ll keep it confidential. Ham, you take Agent Stewart and go to see the doctor. I’ll tie up that killer.”
Stewart and Burris left. Lisa was quietly sitting on the couch with Lazaras’ head in her lap. I looked at Ana.
“You go talk to your daughter. I’ll duct tape this guy.”
I went over and sat beside my daughter. “Honey are you okay?”
“Dad, both of us have been through a lot. Don’t you worry about me. I know you need to find the people responsible for killing Mom. I’ll be safe here with Mr. and Mrs. Burris and Lazarus.”
Lisa, why don’t you go to your room. I’d rather you not be around this man.” Lisa obeyed and Lazarus went with her.
I went back to where Ana was tying up John. “I got his hands and feet,” Ana said. “We need to get him in a chair and I’ll tape him to it.”
I grabbed a straight chair from the kitchen, and lugged John’s limp body onto the seat. Ana secured his taped hands to the chair behind him, and his feet to the chair legs.
“That’ll do. When he regains consciousness, we’ll try to get some answers from him,” she said. She didn’t notice the bulge in his right hand as he grasped something.
“His boss, Debue, was very convincing liar. He wanted was to use me as bait to kill as many people as possible who may be a danger to uncovering his scheme. His daughter is in the country now. She’s surely a player in the planned attacks.”
Ana wiped the blood from John’s face with a damp towel. “His nose is broken, and that’s a nasty bite on his leg.” she said.
“Ana, you know he planned to kill us all.”
John groaned, lifted his head and opened his eyes. He struggled for a moment against the restraints. “Allahu Akbar,” he mumbled.
“Where is Debue now? “ I asked.
“Allahu Akbar,” he repeated. “I will tell you nothing. Shoot me. It would be my great honor to be a martyr.” His eyes flared with hatred.
The front door opened and Agent Stewart and Ham came in. Stewart had a bandage on his right arm.
Eight stitches fixed him up,” Ham said. “No real damage.”
Stewart walked to the chair where John was bound. “Has he said anything?”
I motioned to Stewart, and he followed me to the front porch.
“This guy is not going to tell us anything. We need information so we can act. I believe our time is short to stop what will surely be an unbelievable disaster.”
Shouts came from inside the house. The door burst open and John darted out heading toward the woods. Ham followed him, breathless.
“He must have had a knife hidden somewhere. We turned our heads just for a moment and he cut the tape.”
“Stay here,” I yelled and sprinted after him. In his injured condition, I knew I could catch him. I was gaining on him when he reached the tree line. I slowed down and entered the woods warily. He was not in sight. I saw some broken branches on bushes on the left, and went in that direction. I heard a noise and turned. John was standing there brandishing a switchblade. I slowly backed up looking for a something to protect myself with, a branch or anything.
He charged forward. I sidestepped him. My foot hit something slippery, and I fell to the ground. Just as he lunged toward me, a gunshot rang out. The back of his head exploded. I jumped to my feet.
Standing about fifteen feet away was Agent Stewart holding a service pistol.
“Thanks,” I said.
“That’s one less terrorist we need to worry about,” Stewart replied.
“When we get back to the house, we need to find his cell phone. I’m sure that’ll lead us to Debue, and maybe his daughter.”
Stewart’s cell phone rang. He answered.
“This is Macy our undercover agent. She’s our only hope to secure actionable information.”
He talked to her while we walked back to the house.
My only thoughts were to get to Washington DC to find the murderers of my wife, and to save the Country.
Chapter 57
Macy settled in her austere room at Motel 6. She began listening to the CDs and thumb drives she had confiscated from Dubov’s safe. The first CD contained routine calls from Nevsky, but nothing important. She was starving and took a break.
After taking a hot shower, there was a knock on the door. She looked through the peephole. A bored looking pig-tailed teenager holding a pizza-warming pouch and a 2-liter Coke was standing there. She paid him, and took her hot double ham and bacon pie and Coke to the bed. She put the box and Coke on the end table, took out a piece of the pizza and devoured it. She had a long drink directly from the bottle of Coke, and popped in another CD in the computer.
The particular phone conversation she heard apparently took place prior to the debacle with Sonny, and Nevsky’s loss of confidence in Dubov. She picked up another piece of pizza as the conversation began. She couldn’t believe what she heard. Macy threw down the slice, turned up the volume, and started the CD at the beginning. Her eyes grew wider as she listened.
Maxim Nevsky was talking.
“I have dispatched my most competent assassin to kill the Director of the FBI. The Controller ordered it.” Nevsky chuckled.
“On a brighter note, I’m looking forward to receiving the young American girl you’re sending me. Having a US Senator’s daughter as my concubine will be exciting. When I get tired of her, I’ll sell her to the
Muslims in Iran. I owe you a great favor in return for this.”
“I’m sending her with my woman Macy. I don’t trust the pilot or my driver with such a sexy young thing. Macy will assure that she arrives with her virginity in tact.” Dubov said.
“Maybe I’ll take your sexy Indian woman too,” Nevsky giggled. “I’d love to pour vodka on her rack and lick it off.”
“Anything you want Godfather,” Dubov replied. “What’s up with the Muslims?”
“Ivan, the ISIS Muslims are crazy as hell, but if we play our cards right, we’ll be rich and powerful when they execute their devastating terror attacks on the Americans. The Controller said to me that they had a nuclear bomb in place in Washington, but he would not tell me where. I’ll bet they have it stashed in a mosque there.”
“Where and when does he plan to detonate it?” Dubov asked.
“The Bastard would not tell me. He did say that they plan to take out the FBI, CIA, and the Pentagon, among other powerful government organizations. That’s why I say they’re crazy as hell.”
“Do you think they can pull it off?” Dubov snickered.
“Anything’s possible with these guys. According to The Controller his network is vast including law enforcement, government, and even in the military. He told me this to convince me to continue to operate as his enforcement arm.”
“Who is this Controller? How do you know you can trust him?”
“I know this, he holds a powerful political position in the US Government. He’s able to secure classified information, and knows the interworking’s of the government.”
“Can you speculate?” Dubov asked. “We need to cover our ass in case this scheme of theirs blows up in our face.”
There was a moment of silence from Nevsky.
“Ivan, I’ve had my guys working on that. I do have suspicions about the man. I will confide in you and if you repeat it, I will have you killed. I think The Controller is the Speaker of the House of Representatives, Gilbert Stockman. With these suspicions, I had him staked out for a couple of weeks. He owns a private condo where he meets a sexy redhead who I think is his mistress. There are large glass windows on the side of his condo. The blinds are usually closed, but one day they were open, and my man with binoculars observed him placing a prayer rug on the floor and knelling to pray. It was the Call to Prayer time. The Speaker of the House is a closet Muslim.”
Dubov laughed. “The stupid American government has a radical Muslim third in line for the Presidency. They are so stupid they deserve to be blown to hell.”
“The Controller also told me that he had a terrorist cell activated in Washington. Again he refused to give me any names or specific locations or dates.”
“Exciting times are coming. It’s time Mother Russia is the most powerful nation on earth again.” Dubov said.
“I’ll call you when the girl and Macy arrives. The gift is appreciated.”
Two clicks indicated that the Russians hung up.
Macy sat on the bed dumbfounded. She never expected to uncover such explosive information.
With Director Stancil not available to her, she only had Agent Stewart to trust with the information. She grabbed her cell phone and made the call.
“This is Stewart.”
“Agent Stewart, this is Macy, Agent Ahalya Singh. Are you in a secure position to talk?
“Yes Agent Singh.”
“Please call me Macy. First let me update you on my situation. I intended to come to Pecos to strategize with you, however my plans have changed. Things blew up on me in Chicago. I was forced to kill Dubov and his private pilot Sturgess. I left Nevsky’s assassin tied up in Dubov’s mansion. It’ll be days before anyone finds them. While searching the premises for information I came across some CD’s and thumb drives in Dubov’s safe. He apparently recorded all of his conversations with Nevsky, no doubt for blackmail purposes in the event he needed to protect himself. The Russian Mafia works together, but don’t trust anyone. There are some bombshell conversations on one of the CDs. I have no way to verify the information.”
“I need to know everything you know,” Stewart replied.
“Nevsky apparently takes orders from a man they call The Controller. He told Dubov that a series of attacks were planned on The Pentagon, FBI Headquarters, CIA Headquarters to mention a few. He didn’t tell Dubov dates or details of the attacks. He also said that the Terrorist had smuggled in a nuclear device and it was stored in a mosque in DC for the principal attack. He did not divulge the time and place of that attack. Nevsky indicated that there are Muslim Jihadists in law enforcement, the Armed forces, and the Government. Are you ready for the most bazaar thing of all?”
Stewart took a deep breath. This was the first real break with information about the Plot that he and Director Stancil had discussed.
“This is incredible. What else?”
“Nevsky speculated that The Speaker of the House, Gilbert Stockman, is The Controller and a closet Muslim. The Controller appears to be the principal architect and facilitator of the planned terror attacks.”
Stewart was stunned.
“Are you there?” Macy asked.
“This is astonishing information and absolutely no one will believe us without proof. We’ll be labeled insane,” Stewart said.
“Agent Stewart, that’s why I’ve changed my plans to join you. I’m still in deep undercover and Nevsky will trust me. I’m going to New York to his home. I must find actionable proof and get more details.”
“If anyone discovers Dubov’s body and calls Nevsky, you’ll be tortured and murdered.”
“I’ve must take the chance. This is the only way we can prevent this disaster. We simply don’t know who is implicated, and we must keep this information in a small circle of people we know can be trusted. Director Stancil vouched for you, and you’re the only one I trust.”
“Macy, I have several of my finest Agents guarding Director Stancil. We also have Nevsky staked out by a retired Agent who the Director puts great confidence in. I am presently with Senator Roberts and another retired Agent. If necessary, I know another couple of men who are outside the agency who I can call. So counting you, we have seven people on board and two more if necessary.”
“I’ll contact you when I get to New York. Who do you have watching Nevsky now?”
“Russ Brennan. He’s a reliable retired Agent. I’ll call him and report that you’re on the way. He’ll have your back.”
Stewart gave her Brennan’s cell number and they ended the conversation.
Macy listened to a few more CDs and found nothing else concerning the Controller. However, when she inserted the last Cd, she heard a conversation between Dubov and Nevsky concerning her.
“Are you getting enough sex to satisfy you?” Dubov asked, and laughed.
“Hell no,” Nevsky grumbled. “If I had a sexpot like Macy, I’d be satisfied all the time. I’d give anything for one ride in the sack with her.”
Dubov chuckled, “She’s one hell of a lay. When we finish this thing with The Controller and we’re in power, I’ll give her to you.”
“Don’t you wear her out. I want fresh meat,” Nevsky laughed again.
After that exchange, they discussed Mafia business.
That’s all Macy needed for an in with Nevsky. She would simply tell him that Dubov went on vacation in the Caribbean, and told her to report to Nevsky as his personal gift to the Godfather. She would be the replacement for the Senator’s daughter.
Macy was dead tired. She packed up the CDs and made a call to United Airlines at O’Hair. She made reservations for a flight to New York at ten am. Her next call was to Height Limo Service. She made an appointment for a pickup at eight am.
As tired as she was, she needed to wipe Dubov’s vehicle clean of prints, and move it from the motel parking lot. She couldn’t leave it at the airport or in the parking lot. The possibility of the plates being traced was too great.
There was a 24-hour IHOP next to the motel. Sh
e moved the car to the back of the lot, wiped it clean, and left the keys in the ignition. It would probably be stolen, and with it not being reported as missing, the thieves would not be caught for a long time.
Macy went back to the hotel and collapsed on the bed. Her next course of action would be treacherous and life threatening.
“What the hell is new?” She said aloud, before drifting off to a troubled sleep.
Chapter 58
Stewart’s face reflected astonishment when he hung up the phone with Macy. “What’s going on?” I asked.
“Macy, our deep undercover agent who saved your daughter, recovered information concerning the major terrorist plot. Bombs, including a nuclear device are hidden in a mosque in Washington pending the major attacks. ISIS has partnered with the Russian Mafia in the plans and execution of the scheme. A Russian assassin shot the Director.”
“Oh my God,” I said breathlessly. “How many mosques are in DC?”
“There are six in DC, ten in nearby Maryland, and an additional eight in Virginia. Any suspicion of us knowing where the bombs are located would trigger a transfer to any of the other twenty-three mosques. If I secured a warrant from a judge to search one, and it was not the correct one, there’s no chance we would ever locate the bombs. We must be certain in which location they’re stored before we act.”
“Regardless, we need to get to Washington immediately.” I said.
“Senator, there are a couple of other things you need to know. Macy will be with the Godfather of the largest Russian Mafia Family in the USA tomorrow. His name is Nevsky. She may secure evidence to give credence to this information. Otherwise we’re working on nothing but gossip acquired by illegal actions on Macy’s part. There is one other thing. There was speculation on one of the recorded conversation that the ISIS Commander of this terrorist plot is Speaker of the House Gilbert Stockman. He apparently was observed participating in the Evening Prayer Call practiced by Muslims. Nevsky had him followed for months, and came to the conclusion that Stockman is the infamous Controller.”
Lost in the Maze Page 30
