by Noah Boyd
“And the LCS can’t have that. So if you refuse, you lose—your life.”
“They can’t be approaching these people cold and expecting them to turn,” Kate said.
“You’re right, they’re probably not. The key is Gaston disappearing in Las Vegas. Where better to compromise someone than a place with unlimited liquor, gambling, women, and desperation?”
“So they’re blackmailing them into giving up classified secrets.”
“That’s the only way everything makes sense. I suppose they may occasionally get a lead on someone who’s heavily in debt or overleveraged with the bookies, but I think their tool of choice is most likely extortion. It’s as old as spying itself. Another advantage to it is that if you’re just an everyday double agent for the Russians, you can quit anytime you want to, but if our Lithuanian chess players have got something on you, you’re in forever.”
“So these people they recruit aren’t being paid?”
“Once they’re compromised, and probably recorded, the LCS owns them. I’d guess they’re given a small percentage of what the Russians pay. At this point I think we can safely assume that Longmeadow is Preston. Remember what he said on the tape: ‘This time I want a hundred thousand dollars in cash, just for me.’ In other words, he’s tired of sharing. He wasn’t talking to his Russian handler, he was negotiating with an LCS extortionist.”
Now it was Kate who stared at the five questions on the wall. She filtered them all through Vail’s conclusions. Finally she said, “You’re making some leaps, but I can’t think of anything to disprove it. It does all fit.”
“For the moment.”
“Meaning?”
“This is all supposition. They know that the only way we can prove any of this is by turning the people they’ve recruited. That’s why they’ve been killing them as soon as we get close.”
“So they’ve destroyed all the potential witnesses against them.”
“Not all of them. We have Longmeadow, who evidently they think we’ve missed so they’re leaving him be.”
“Then why don’t we go get him and see if he’ll come clean? If he is being blackmailed, he’d probably be glad to get them off his back.”
“Two things. First, we have no evidence other than that brief recorded conversation, and I’m not sure we could prove it’s his voice or that there’s any real spying involved. Second, every time we’ve gone anywhere near one of these people, they wound up dead. The LCS has some early-warning system in place. Until we can figure out what it is and how to get around it, I think we should let him be. With Rellick dead, they probably think we’re satisfied that everything has been put to rest. A couple of days isn’t going to make any difference. This is another advantage to our not telling anyone else; we don’t have to worry about it leaking out while we wait.”
“And in the meantime . . . ?”
“The routine stuff. We’ll try to find out if they recruited someone else from Matrix-Linx after Gaston disappeared, like they did with the air force. We’ve got the advantage now. They don’t know we’re coming.”
“You don’t think our little trip to their clubhouse will force them to tie up loose ends like Longmeadow?”
“With Rellick dead, I’m hoping not. They’ve killed all the evidence, remember? But if they do get nervous, they’ll have no option but to play defense, and that might mean eliminating all loose ends.”
Kate asked, “Aren’t we loose ends?”
“These people aren’t fools. The easiest way to prevent Rellick from being exposed would have been to kill you. . . .”
Again Vail’s thoughts were drifting in another direction. This time she couldn’t wait. “What?”
“Your suicide attempt.”
“My what? You knew about that?”
Absentmindedly, Vail said, “The director told me about it. That’s how he got me to change my mind downstairs that day.”
“You believed I would try to commit suicide?”
“Over you dumping me, yeah, that makes sense. He told me that your reputation was being questioned. I know how small-minded these people can be. He thought that if you and I could resolve the Calculus list, the rumors would be put to rest.”
“And you never told me? Why? And why would you go through all this if you didn’t believe it? You were almost killed—more than once.”
He grabbed her roughly by her arm and pulled her against him. His lips were almost touching hers. His breathing quickened. “Aren’t you ever going to get this?”
32
Unsure where it would take them—and not sure she cared—Kate touched her lips lightly to Vail’s.
Suddenly the door downstairs opened. She drew her head back and, with her voice unintentionally throaty, said, “That’s Luke.”
“Luke who?”
She put her head on his chest. “I wish I could remember.”
She started to move away, and Vail pulled her hand to his mouth, nipping the skin at the back of it. “What idiot gave him a key?”
As soon as Bursaw walked in, he sensed he’d interrupted something. “I . . . uh, forgot something in the car,” he offered diplomatically. “I’ll be right back.”
“That’s all right, Luke. We were just finishing an argument,” Kate said playfully.
Bursaw noticed the new handwriting on the wall and went over to it. “Is there one answer to all five questions?”
“We think the LCS is doing contract recruitment of sources for the Russians. Using blackmail when they can.”
Bursaw reread the questions and Vail’s terse, cryptic answers. After a minute he said, “Impressive. Logically, it does answer all the questions.”
Vail turned to Kate. “We must be right. Philosophers take a death oath to never agree with any definitive conclusion.”
Bursaw said, “I guess the challenge is proving it?”
“That’s what we were trying to figure out.”
“Do you think Sundra was approached?” Bursaw asked.
“Hard to say, but my guess would be that they found out she was making inquiries about Longmeadow. Somewhere it leaked out. Maybe, like us, she picked up on all the calls to car washes and started making inquires into Zogas’s businesses and he got wind of it. We may never know now. If they approached her, maybe she was offered money to shut her up. It wouldn’t have been hard for them to find out how much debt she was in. If they offered her something and she refused, their only option left would be to make her disappear, along with her computer files.”
Bursaw turned around, and the anger he was trying to suppress was obvious. “So she was just doing her job.”
“Her problem was that she was doing more than her job. Don’t worry, Luke, we’re going to settle this, I promise. But right now we all need to be cool.”
Bursaw took a few seconds and then nodded. “I’m okay.” He opened his briefcase and removed a stack of papers. “I had those plates run and got only a couple of hits.” He smiled more calmly now. “But I had an idea. The few plates that came back to them all listed the club’s address, so I had this gal I know at DMV security run an offline search for all vehicles registered at that address for the last three years.” He handed Vail a sheet of paper. “Everyone from Alex Zogas on down. Eight altogether.”
Vail scanned the list. There was Algis Barkus, who’d had the cuts around his eyes at the club, and one other that Vail found very interesting. “Jonas Sakis.” Vail turned the list so Kate could see it. “The guy who tried to kill me in Chicago.”
She said, “Then two of them are probably the guys you and John shot in Annandale.”
“Which would mean we’re down to five.”
“So what do we do now? Sit on the club?” Bursaw asked. “We don’t have a home address for any of them.”
“They’ll be looking for us there. No, I was thinking that my car needed washing.” Bursaw looked at him questioningly. “Zogas owns car washes. His machines have money in them. You don’t think a good businessman would l
eave them full overnight, do you?”
“I’ll go with you.”
“Let me change into some surveillance clothes,” Vail said. “Kate, you want to come along?”
“Surveillance? You mean me watching you sleep? As enjoyable as that would be, it’ll be slightly less boring if I get back to the office and put another dent in that paperwork. You’ll call me if you get anything?”
“Only if there’s going to be shooting involved.”
Alex Zogas had been brooding since the FBI left, and he hadn’t said a dozen words. The other four men knew not to say anything when he was like that. At the moment he was playing chess against Algis Barkus, and Barkus could tell by his distracted play that Zogas was planning something. Although he’d told the agents that all the men of the Lithuanian Chess Society were chess masters, only Zogas was, and right now Barkus was playing him even. It was part of Zogas’s planning process. There was something about the discipline of the game that he used to unravel and reassemble the most complicated problems. Finally he shifted in his seat, redirecting his concentration to the board, and almost immediately made a brazen move, straightening up and smiling confidently. Whatever the problem was, it had been solved, and Zogas was now less than a handful of moves from checkmate.
It was Zogas’s fourth move that caused Barkus to tip his king over in surrender. Zogas got up and went to the office. The men could hear him typing on the computer. A couple minutes later, he came back and gave Barkus a slip of paper with an address on it. “Nine o’clock. Meet me there.” Zogas nodded at a second man playing chess, Bernard Mindera, to go with him. Short and powerfully built, Mindera seemed pleased to be chosen and started picking up his chess pieces from the board.
It was after 8 P.M., and the temperature had fallen well below freezing. Vail and Bursaw sat parked at a discreet distance from one of Alex Zogas’s Sunshine car washes. “Man, I can’t believe that in the dead of winter so many people stand out in the cold to wash their cars,” Bursaw said.
“It does seem like a license to steal.”
A silver Lincoln pulled in and parked in an out-of-the-way spot that precluded the possibility of its being there for a wash. The two agents watched the well-dressed man get out and tug up the collar on his topcoat. “That’s Zogas,” Vail said.
There were three washing bays, and they watched as Zogas emptied each of the machines of the day’s receipts and put them into a canvas bag. “I had my doubts,” Bursaw said, “but you were right about him not wanting to leave the money overnight.”
Zogas got back into his car and waited for a break in the traffic. Vail said, “I assume you can follow him without getting made.”
“Although I should never bet against you when food is at stake, dinner says I can.”
“Why do I get the feeling that my supper tonight is going to be at some drive-through?”
The Lincoln pulled into traffic heading north.
“Any idea where he might be going, Steve?”
“I’m just hoping he leads us to where he lives. We have no background on this guy at all. With a residence we can get a phone number and all kinds of other information.”
They followed him to a second Sunshine Car Wash, and Bursaw, once again, set up down the street.
After a third car wash, Zogas drove to a bank and parked in the lot. He sat in the car for a while before Bursaw said, “Looks like he’s counting money and filling out a deposit slip.”
“I do believe we have found where he does his banking. Those records should be interesting.”
Finally Zogas got out of his car and walked over to the night depository, using a key to open it. On the way back, he checked his wristwatch. “Looks like he’s got something scheduled. It’s after eight thirty, kind of late. Maybe it’s spy stuff,” Bursaw said.
“Wouldn’t that be nice?”
The Lincoln pulled back into traffic, and Bursaw waited for a couple of cars to get between them before easing into the same lane. “He’s driving too slow. Think he’s early for an appointment?”
They had been traveling southeast for almost twenty minutes when they reached Temple Hills. Zogas parked outside a large apartment complex. The two agents watched as he turned off the ignition and dialed his cell phone. “What do you think, Steve?”
“I have no idea. We’ve just got to stay with him.” They could see him dialing a second number now. After a minute he hung up, started his car, and made a U-turn. Vail and Bursaw looked at each other questioningly. Bursaw turned the Bureau car around and maintained his distance behind the Lincoln again. They followed him for almost a half hour to an upscale neighborhood in Capitol Heights, where he pulled into a three-car garage and then closed the door. Vail made a note of the address.
“So now we know his bank and home address. Not a bad night’s work,” Bursaw said.
But Vail didn’t answer. Bursaw glanced at him. He was sitting with his head back and his eyes closed. Finally Vail said, “Why did he go to Temple Hills to make a couple of phone calls?”
“Maybe he didn’t want to call from his home because he’s worried about us getting a fix on what cell tower he was running off of. You know these people always think we have more capabilities than we do.”
“Maybe,” Vail said. He took out a map book of the greater D.C. area. After studying it for a few seconds, he said, “Do you know what’s less than two miles from where he stopped in Temple Springs? Andrews Air Force Base. Where does Longmeadow live?”
Bursaw reached into the backseat and retrieved his briefcase. He shuffled through the papers and pulled out Longmeadow’s information. “His current address is in Camp Springs, Virginia.”
Vail looked back at the map. “It’s adjacent to the base, less than two miles from where Zogas made the calls. They’re going to kill Longmeadow.”
33
As they neared the address for Master Sergeant Longmeadow’s apart- ment, Vail spotted one of the cars he’d seen at the chess club. There were two men in the front seat. “Luke, there! The guy driving is the one who calls himself Barkus.”
Bursaw waited until there was a little more distance between them before making a U-turn. “Think they saw us?”
“A black guy with a white guy, in this car? I wouldn’t be optimistic.”
“Do you want to try to stop them?”
“Not yet. If they did kill Longmeadow, he’s either in his apartment or in that car. If it’s the car, then we want to see where they’re going with the body.”
Bursaw knew what Vail wasn’t saying. Wherever they were heading, if Longmeadow’s body was in the car, they were taking it to someplace they considered safe to dump bodies. Maybe that was where Sundra was.
Vail picked up the mike and radioed the Washington Field Office. “We are following a car with two men who may have just committed a homicide. We need you to call the Camp Springs PD and have them immediately check the following location for a victim.” Vail gave them Longmeadow’s address and apartment number.
Bursaw continued to follow the car at a discreet distance, keeping at least two other vehicles between them. “Looks like they’re heading for 495.”
Vail didn’t say anything but continued to watch the car closely. It exited onto 495 and then 95 South. “Notice anything funny about the way they’re driving?”
“It’s by the book. Signaling lane changes, right at the speed limit.”
“Who drives like that?” Vail said.
“Someone who doesn’t want to get stopped. I’m guessing the late Chester Longmeadow is aboard.”
For the next fifteen minutes, they followed the car driven by Algis Barkus. As the traffic thinned out, Bursaw was able to lengthen the distance between it and his Bureau vehicle. Suddenly the WFO radio operator’s voice cut through the air. “The Camp Springs PD just called back. They had the manager let them into the apartment, and it was empty. There were no signs of a struggle or that anything unusual had taken place.”
“Copy, Central,” Vail said,
and leaned back. “I guess we’re on the way to a burial.”
The area was more rural now and the road darker. Bursaw was able to drop back even farther. “Think we should call for some help? We’re getting close to the Richmond office’s turf.”
“The whole point is to follow these two until we find where they’re going to dump the body. The chances of someone jumping into the middle of a surveillance in progress and not getting burned are about zero.”
Barkus signaled that he was exiting off the highway and onto Route 30. “Too late now,” Bursaw said. He turned onto the ramp for 30 East. “Here we go.”
Once they were on Route 30, Bursaw closed the gap between them. They had gone less than ten miles when Barkus turned right onto a dirt road. Bursaw slowed to let the distance increase, since it would be harder to go unnoticed in such an isolated spot. The road was little more than a trail, narrow and barely passable. Bursaw slowed the Bureau car to a crawl and switched his headlights to parking lights.
There was no illumination from the main road, but the moon had risen and was providing some light through the partially cloudy sky. The road wound around, and with their headlights off, the two agents didn’t notice an overgrown path off to the right, which Barkus had turned his vehicle into. The Lithuanian had then made a left-hand turn and switched off his lights and engine, leaving him invisible as Bursaw went by with his parking lights now off. Barkus rolled down his window and listened. Once he heard the FBI car go by, he started the engine, backed up onto the dirt road, then shut the car off again, blocking the road so the agents couldn’t drive out of the woods.
Without a word both men got out and went to the trunk. They shoved the heavy canvas bag containing Longmeadow’s body to the side and took out night goggles, putting them on quickly. Ironically, Longmeadow had given Zogas the thermal-imaging devices when trying to demonstrate to him the utility of the larger system he was about to sell him the secrets to. Then they took out Russian-made Bison submachine guns, chambering the first round. Positioning themselves behind the car, they waited for Vail and Bursaw to drive back.
