by Matt Lincoln
CHAPTER 26
The noise couldn’t keep Ronnie awake anymore. Volkov had his men dump her back into the cell at some point while she was out of it. She had a vague memory of him offering her one more chance one she got her wits about her. As a gesture of his “good faith,” he left her with a water bottle and a slice of bread.
She was too tired, too hungry, and the effects of the taser on her weakened body had sapped what little strength she had left. Chewing stale bread was almost more than she could manage. Her stomach acted like it didn’t know what to do with the food, but she forced it down.
Hours… or days... later, she couldn’t tell, Volkov arrived. The noise was turned off. This was new. Ronnie pushed herself up from where she lay on the bare floor… they hadn’t allowed her to have the blanket back.
“I have gift for you,” Volkov announced. “Someone came looking for you. I say, I do not know this woman, but he did not believe me.”
He spread his hands as if confounded. Ronnie certainly felt confounded. The room spun, and she felt like she was going to fall over. She watched Brain shove a man with a bag over his head into the cell. Blood stained the side of his torn shirt, and his arms were bound behind his back.
The man stumbled and grunted, and even though it was no more than a hint of a voice, she knew it was him. Bile rose to her mouth, but she swallowed it and tried not to otherwise react.
“Welcome your brother, Veronica.” Volkov pulled the bag from over Robbie’s head. Ronnie held back a cry when she saw the condition of his face. “He came from far away to locate you. It is impressive, really. I did internet search. No wonder you are tough. Your brother is SEAL, one of America’s best. This must run in family. Are your parents tough?”
Robbie stirred and growled. He pulled at Brain’s grip, but he didn’t have the strength that Ronnie knew her brother was capable of. He must have been faking, but God, those bruises on his face were brutal.
“I don’t know him,” she rasped, and then she laid down.
She knew she wasn’t fooling anyone, but she wasn’t about to cooperate. Not now that her brother was here. He’d only be in the cell with her if his team were close behind. They could be rescued at any time.
“Then I will leave you to get reacquainted,” Volkov informed her. “He is injured. You have choices to make before I return. If you want him to live, you must answer my questions.”
He signaled to Brain. The lackey shoved Robbie several more steps into the cell and then walked away. Ronnie wanted to tell them to uncuff him, but she knew that Brain hadn’t forgotten a damn thing. They wanted the retired SEAL contained in some manner, no matter his condition. Robbie stumbled over to a wall and leaned against it.
“You have one hour to decide,” Volkov announced. “I must see to business. When I return, you talk so I do not have to hurt Robert even more.”
Volkov stalked over to Ronnie, crouched, and then grabbed her face by the cheeks. His crushing grip dug the insides of her right cheek into her teeth until she tasted blood.
“You will tell me who you work for,” he hissed. “You are covert operative, but I will forgive you if you talk. Perhaps we find way for you to work with me. You are smart and strong. We have need of this, and you would have good life. Think about it.” He released her face.
“You said you were going to kill me,” she whispered. “Why change your mind?”
“Because I like you.” He scoffed. “Women, they do not see what is in front of their faces.” He smiled and shook his head. “I do not want to kill you, but I will if you do not cooperate. Same with brother. I will hurt him if you do not help.”
He walked over to the door and stopped. Without turning his head, he added, “I bring warm meal if you say real name and name of brother.”
He slammed the door shut, and the noise track resumed, but not at full volume. Ronnie crawled over to Robbie as he slid to sit on the floor. One of his eyes was swollen almost shut, he had a busted lip, and it looked like he was missing a tooth or two.
“What the hell?” she whispered not to avoid being heard but because her voice was gone. “You shouldn’t be here.”
The mere act of whispering triggered a series of coughs that shook her upper body.
“Ethan’s not moving fast enough,” he answered in a slurred voice. Ronnie caught the faintest hint of alcohol on his breath. “Tried to find you.” He moaned and clutched his side and abdomen. “They found me first.”
If he weren’t so hurt, she would’ve punched him.
“What did they do to you?” Another round of coughing ripped at her throat, and her nose dripped. What a sad pair they made. “They didn’t do this to me.”
“Last case…” He clenched his teeth and winced. “Bleeding inside.”
Ronnie put her hand on his belly. He was right. His abdomen was distended and too warm to the touch.
“Shit, Robbie. Oh God, you need a hospital.” She’d thought she was too dehydrated for tears, but she was wrong. “You are the dumbest brother in the universe.” She tried to swallow against the scratchiness in her throat.
“I found you,” he grunted as he eased himself to the floor. “Need a nap, kiddo. Ground you later.”
Ronnie put her hand to her mouth. Her training made it clear that her missions came before everything, including family, but this was her big brother, the toughest badass she’d ever known, and he would die if she didn’t do what their captor demanded.
Ronnie had less than an hour to decide how much she was willing to throw away, including her freedom, to save her brother’s life.
CHAPTER 27
It was Davis’s turn to go see Mister V.
“I can’t stand the waiting,” I complained on the video conference with Meisha and the others. “I saw enough to get a warrant.”
Warner had delivered more laptops to Davis’s house by the time I got back. All our things from the hotel had also been dumped into his bare living room. Sadie had gone back with Warner, so it was just Davis and me at his house. The Ferrari was once again tucked away from view.
“It’s not enough, and you know it,” Meisha countered. “We might find Ronnie, we might not. If we go in without solid evidence, we might miss her and Robbie. Do you really want to risk the entire case by basing a warrant on a man trying to get his friend’s sister back? Wait for Davis.”
I slammed my fist on the dining table. Tea sloshed in the glass next to my hand. The search for Robbie hadn’t turned up any leads while I was out, and it was now Davis’s turn to see Mister V, if that’s what he went by when Davis got there. The only good thing was that Warner had Mister V’s address to run a search on. One way or another, we were going to get that slippery bastard.
“It sounds like he’ll be more comfortable with me,” Davis said with a glance in my direction. “He said I’ll get a photo of the item I choose, right? You know, he didn’t tell me not to bring a camera, just not to bring a phone or voice recorder.”
“He won’t let you get away with anything,” I warned him. “Whatever you’re thinking, rethink it.”
Davis pinched the bridge of his nose. “Have a little faith. I’m not going to do anything to endanger either of the Holms, assuming he even has Robbie.”
“He does, otherwise Robbie would’ve showed up.”
Davis nodded. “Fair enough. Look, I will do what I can and improvise if possible. I will get us something. Maybe you should go work on Maloney to give us something to use on this guy.”
“That guy’s lawyer won’t let us anywhere near him,” I countered.
“Talk with the DA,” Meisha said from the laptop. She kept looking to the left on her end. “I’ll have to talk later. One of the SEALs is trying to show Sadie the parts of an AK-47.”
Davis snorted, and I shook my head. The idea of some random active-duty guy flirting with Sadie bugged me, but she was a grown woman who could make her own decisions. Since I was going back to Miami after this “vacation,” it wouldn’t be fair to push
anything. And yet, there was something sweet yet strong that pulled me toward her.
“Marston.” Davis’s sharp voice cut through my thoughts. “Are you with us?”
“Yeah, I was thinking about something.” I pulled my focus back to the case. “You said I should work on Maloney. That’s not a bad idea. If we get him to flip on Mister V for a plea deal, that could be what we need.”
“And in the meantime, we keep running this op until we have enough evidence to hit him and hit him hard,” Davis added.
“I don’t want this to go past today,” I told him. “I’m already worried about Ronnie even being alive. If that’s where Robbie is, he might not get so long, especially if he gets into a fight.”
There was no way he could handle getting the shit beat out of him this soon. He still had another month before he got more than desk duty.
“You want me to drop you off to see Maloney?” Davis asked as he stood.
“Sadie left me the Prius. I’m good for now.”
I called ahead to the lockup where Maloney was being held, and I also left a message for the US attorney’s office about getting a deal offer. By the time I had everything set up, Davis had reappeared, this time dressed in blues with a golden pocket square. The border was a faded line of honeycombs.
I stopped him on the way out. “Okay, what’s with the bees and honey?”
“I come from a family of beekeepers.” He laughed. “When my mom finds a themed pocket square or tie, she sends it to me. The honey in my kitchen is from a local place. I can’t get the stuff out of my blood.”
“My grandparents left me an orange grove,” I told him. “The neighbors keep an eye on it in exchange for all the oranges they and their friends could ever want. The wife brings me marmalade every year.”
“That sounds… great.” Davis made his way out to his Corvette, which was still under its tarp. “Personally, I can’t stand the stuff.”
“Me either,” I confessed. “I take it into the office. There’s always someone who thinks it’s the best thing ever.”
“Okay, Paddington Bear, I’ll catch you later. I’ll call or text when I can.”
“I’ll keep the burner phone close for that photo. Choose wisely.”
Davis laughed again, and he left for his meeting with Mister V. I grabbed a few things, locked Davis’s house, and then left in the Prius. By the time I got to where Maloney was being held, he and his attorney were in the interview room. The ADA, Chuck Kline, met me in the observation room.
“If you’d asked me a day ago, I don’t know that I would’ve agreed,” he told me, “but with what you saw today and your guy missing, I don’t feel I have much of a choice.”
We watched Maloney sweat it out a bit with his lawyer. The mics were off because their conversation was privileged until I entered the room. I would’ve loved to sneak a listen, but Kline didn’t strike me as a rule breaker.
“After our other agent gets done today, we’ll have what we need to set a sting tomorrow, but I don’t know that our people have another day,” I pointed out. “This Mister V fellow doesn’t like being crossed. I want to push Maloney enough to convince him that V thinks he’s a liability. That he’s been crossed.”
“No rough stuff,” Kline warned. “We have to get our answers the right way. Otherwise, we’re no better than them.”
I nodded, and in theory, I agreed. Doing better was a great thing. Unfortunately, there were some times and situations when it wasn’t optimal to spend the time needed to coax answers from subjects.
Maloney and his attorney stopped talking when Kline and I walked in.
“Go ahead and talk,” I said in a laid back tone. “I don’t mind.”
“Funny, Agent Marston,” the attorney said. “My client will be out in a few hours. You have nothing to offer.”
“Is that so?” I took a seat and looked Maloney in the eye. “Did you hear that they found your pretty bowl was worth only a fraction of what you paid for it?”
Maloney’s gasp was as fake as any I’d ever witnessed. He blinked several times and then met my stare.
“They ripped me off, clearly.” He forced a shuddering breath and appealed to his lawyer. “It’s not fair. I paid a lot of money for that. Who do I sue?”
“Be quiet, Colin,” the attorney said. To me, he said, “My name is Bill Wyatt. If I don’t feel it’s in my client’s—”
“If it’s not in your client’s best interest, he won’t talk. I get it.” I need to move, so I got out of the chair and paced in slow, even steps from side to side in the cramped room. “Here’s the thing. Mr. Kline is a federal prosecutor, and he’s given the go-ahead to offer you a deal.”
“I’m listening,” Maloney said despite a gesture from Wyatt. “What? A guy can listen long enough to tell them ‘no.’”
“Mr. Maloney, time is a critical issue here. If you tell us all you know and agree to testify about the Russian known as ‘Mister V,’ we’ll drop the laundering charges.”
Wyatt raised a brow. “Is this appraiser fellow really that important?”
“Yes or no, Mr. Maloney,” Kline said. “This is a limited-time offer, and that time is three minutes.”
“What about the assault charges on those female agents?” Wyatt demanded. “They pushed his buttons and practically dared him to act out.”
“They did no more than any other agent, Mr. Wyatt, and you know it,” I countered. “He couldn’t handle the fact that women were challenging him.”
“That’s not true!” Maloney protested. He leaned forward like he was about to jump from his chair. “They made me think they broke property that was taken without my permission, and then they acted like it wasn’t a big deal.”
“And that’s a reason to launch yourself at a federal agent?” Kline asked in a mild tone.
Maloney sat back and glared. “No.”
“Not another word,” Wyatt warned his client.
“Time’s almost up,” Kline announced. “We can talk about the assault charges later. That’s something you’ll have to bring up to those agents. If you help us here, you’ll be helping one of their own, and they may be more inclined to grant you some leeway.”
“You’ll drop the laundering charges?” Maloney asked. His hooded eyes wandered and then narrowed. “What if he sends someone after me?”
“We’ll keep you safe,” Kline told him. “There aren’t any indications that he’s more than an independent contractor, so one might expect it ends with him and his closest associates.”
Even though I only saw one lackey that morning, I wasn’t so sure I agreed with that. Redding was dead, and black market operators often worked with syndicates and other organizations. Still, if Kline felt comfortable making that promise, I wasn’t going to question it.
“Give him immunity from the assault charges,” Wyatt said in a firm tone. “If he gets threats, we reserve the right to back out.”
“We’ll provide protection appropriate to the situation,” Kline stated. He put his elbows on the table and folded his hands. “Your cooperation in this situation will be appreciated more than you can guess. There are two lives on the line here.”
Maloney leaned back. “Seriously?” He looked to his attorney. “Bill, does this make the deal better or worse?”
“What can you tell us about these two lives?” Wyatt asked us. “If this individual is more dangerous than we thought, I don’t want to endanger my client.”
“I only saw one guy,” Maloney told Wyatt.
“Colin, not another word.” Wyatt glared at his client. “Mr. Maloney’s safety is my concern. While I sympathize with your need to save other people, I must insist that you can guarantee that nothing will happen to him.”
Kline’s soft scoff made Wyatt bristle. “You know better than that, Bill. We will do everything within our power to keep Mr. Maloney safe, but there are no fast guarantees.” He set his piercing gaze on Maloney. “Colin, you have thirty seconds to answer me.”
“This
will save two people?” he asked in a soft tone. “They’ll die if I don’t do this?”
“There’s a good chance, yes,” I told him.
“Dude, I just wanted to settle some bad debts without getting into trouble,” Maloney said. He looked up at me. “It wasn’t that girl, was it? The one who was always hanging around? Mister V had a thing for her.”
I straightened. “Mr. Kline, could you pause that countdown?”
“I’ll give an extra minute,” Kline conceded. “Talk fast, Mr. Maloney.”
“Describe her,” I ordered.
Maloney looked at his attorney. Wyatt shrugged.
“Tall, for a girl.” He gestured at about eye level. “Blond hair. I remember it waved around her back. She had this cute little tattoo behind her ear. It was some kind of orange flower.”
“That’s her,” I told Kline.
“Oh wow,” Maloney murmured. “She was so nice. Mr. Kline, I’ll take your deal, because when I was having a hard time, she talked about helping me get my shit together. I got anger issues, but she gave me advice about it.”
“When did you see her last?” I asked. I prayed it wasn’t too long ago.
“She was at a club two, maybe three weeks ago.” Maloney frowned. “I asked why she was hanging around that old Russian dude so much, and she said she’s interested in antiques and collectibles.”
“Did you see her at his place?”
“Yeah, she shadowed him like some sort of intern. She was the one who suggested the bowl I bought. I really liked it, and she talked the Christophels into choosing it.”
Typical Ronnie. She was always concerned about other people.
“Colin, do you know Mister V’s real name?”
Maloney shifted in his seat. “Only by accident. I tried to forget it because nobody is supposed to know. When I was leaving my appointment, the door didn’t get closed all the way, and I heard her call him Yuri. I don’t know his last name.”
Kline stood. “Consider the deal made,” he told Maloney. “I’m going to recommend anger management counseling and a rehab program. Do what she said and get your shit together. Make something of yourself.”
