Forced Move (Michael Cailen Book 2)

by Mel LeBrun

  Jeff's patronizing smile vanished. He took the seat next to Michael. “What can I do?”

  “Tell me where Lance is being held.”

  Jeff sighed heavily and shook his head. “I'm telling you. There is no way you can save him.”

  “Let me decide that.”

  Still reluctant to answer, Jeff looked away. “He's on his way to the home of Rafael Ortiz in Venezuela.”

  “Who is that?”

  “A very paranoid arms dealer who happens to be close friends with the Directorate-General for Weapons and Explosives for the Venezuelan National Armed Forces.”

  “Fantastic,” Michael remarked sarcastically. “Why do you think Corvo can't be saved?”

  “Ortiz has, quite literally, a small army protecting his estate,” Jeff replied. “With an advanced security system and 4-1/2 meter cement walls surrounding his property, there is no way you can rescue your friend.”

  “Sounds cozy. What's the address?”

  “Have you not heard a word I said?”

  “I did. I've been up against far worse than what you just described.”

  Jeff gave him a look. “Is that so?”

  “Yes. Now give me the address,” Michael said forcefully.

  Jeff finally caved and gave Michael the address to where Corvo was headed.

  “I'm going to also need your plane,” Michael said.

  “You've got balls. I'll give you that,” Jeff replied.

  “Good.” Michael stood to leave. “Have it ready and waiting in Boston in six hours.”

  Jeff couldn't believe the nerve he had to demand such a thing. “Don't make my daughter a widow,” he called out as Michael walked away.

  Michael made no reply as he left the suite. Jeff cursed loudly and slammed his fist on the armrest of his chair. Nothing was going the way he wanted it to.

  MICHAEL PHONED Gatti as he climbed back in the truck. He informed him of what Jeff had just told him about Corvo and that the Director of National Intelligence was in bed with Meier. He urged Gatti to sweep his tracks.

  Gatti had already begun doing that. Since learning that Corvo was missing, Gatti removed all traces of their contact over the past few weeks along with any records of the recent investigation into Jessica's kidnapping.

  “What's going to happen if they trace the calls I've made on this phone?” Michael asked. “I've called you as well as Lance.”

  “I've already taken the liberty of modifying your phone records,” Gatti answered. “It was the first thing I did.”

  Michael was relieved to hear it. They had already lost Corvo. They couldn't afford to lose Gatti as well.

  “You don't really think you can break Lance out of that facility do you?” Gatti asked him.

  “Did you find out anything about Dmitri Kirsanov?” Michael asked, ignoring Gatti's question.

  Gatti sighed. “I couldn't find any official record for your friend. However, I didn't stop there. I checked payroll, a little trick I picked up working here, and found a Dmitri Kirsanov who receives weekly deposits to an account.”

  “I know you got more for me than that.”

  “You know me too well,” Gatti replied. “There was a withdrawal made from a bank in Kemerovo this morning.”

  “You got an address for me?”

  “Of course.”

  Michael wrote down the address Gatti provided him. “Thanks Tim. I owe you again.”

  “You didn't answer my question, Michael. Rafael Ortiz is serious about his security. I don't see how you could possibly even dream of getting in there, let alone get yourself and Corvo out. You will die trying, Michael.” Gatti desperately wanted him to reconsider. He knew Ortiz's reputation and without military backing, Michael didn't stand a chance.

  “I'm not breaking in,” Michael answered. “I'm going to walk right in the front door.”

  “I don't know what you're planning, but I don't like it. I won't support you in this. You're going to get yourself killed.”

  “It's all right Tim. I got this.”

  “Michael listen to me ...”

  “It'll be fine. Can you please send someone to watch over Jessica? Thanks, I gotta go.” Without even giving him a chance to respond Michael hung up his phone and pulled out the battery.

  THE ONLY thing Corvo remembered was walking to his car in the hotel parking garage. He woke on the floor of a private jet with his hands and feet bound. The interrogation began within minutes of him regaining consciousness.

  A well-dressed man of obvious Latin descent ordered another man to sit Corvo up. He was thin but muscular, taller than average with curly jet black hair and tan skin. The only notable characteristic was a large scar above his left eyebrow. Now seated, Corvo glanced around assessing how bad his situation was, which was pretty bad.

  The man next addressed Corvo. “How did you learn of the sale?”

  Corvo refused to answer so the interrogator instructed his man to strike Corvo across the face. He asked again.

  “I got a flyer in the mail,” Corvo replied this time.

  Although he smiled, the interrogator was not amused. After giving his accomplice a look, he turned and sat down. Corvo was then beaten relentlessly for the rest of the plane ride. He wasn't even given a chance to speak.

  When they landed, he was brought to Rafael Ortiz's mini-fortress where the interrogation resumed in a section of his basement that apparently had been designed for this very activity. Chained to the ceiling in a tiny cement room, the brutalization continued. His face already bloody and bruised, they began to work on his stomach. Knowing that days, possibly weeks of torture awaited him unless he talked he finally told them he would answer their questions.

  The man who questioned him on the plane entered the room and stood before him. He asked again, “How did you hear about the sale?”

  “We got an anonymous tip,” Corvo answered.

  The man gestured for his thug to strike Corvo. “I will ask you once more. How did you learn of the sale?”

  “Someone called in a tip from a pay phone in the Bronx,” Corvo insisted. “I followed up on it and it panned out.”

  Without saying another word, the interrogator left. He returned a few minutes later with a small table. He placed it in front of Corvo and began to set various instruments of torture upon it. Corvo's heart raced as a fresh dose of adrenaline coursed through his veins.

  “I'm going to tell you one thing and then we are going to begin,” the interrogator stepped closer. “I know who you really are Special Agent Lance Corvo.” With an evil smile on his face, he leaned in close to Corvo's ear. “I know you're CIA,” he whispered.

  Corvo was now horrifyingly aware of just how grave his situation was. Betrayed by someone inside the agency, he was completely on his own. Any rescue attempts would either be thwarted by the mole or lead to his immediate death. More than likely he would be tortured endlessly until he broke.

  “Now,” the interrogator picked a carving tool up from the table, “let's begin again.”

  Chapter 28

  It took a lot of convincing to get Martin and Josh to go along with Michael's plan. Jinx protested as they drove back to Boston so the men could collect their passports and Michael could see Jessica before they left.

  “Josh,” she said. “This is suicide.”

  Josh didn't say a word, he just looked at her. She turned to Michael and Martin.

  “You can't do this,” she pleaded.

  “No,” Michael replied. “We can't sit back and do nothing while Lance is tortured and killed. We got him into this.”

  Tears welled in her eyes when she realized they weren't going to change their minds. She looked away from Josh, angry that he was going to leave her like this. Josh reached out and touched her arm. She shook him off.

  “Don't touch me,” she said.

  Her jaw clenched, she stared out the window fighting back the urge to cry. Josh wished she hadn't heard what they were planning. He tried to tell her everything would be fine but
she didn't believe him. He didn't even believe himself.

  He waited another minute before he unbuckled his seatbelt and moved next to her. She didn't resist this time as he put his arms around her and held her. He told her that he loved her and tried to assure her that it would be okay. She wrapped her arms around him and melted into his embrace.

  “I don't want you to go,” she begged.

  Josh squeezed her tight. “I have to.”

  She pulled herself from his arms. “If you're going to go through with this, then there is something I need to say.”

  “What is it?” he asked.

  Michael had a feeling he knew where this was going and though he didn't think it was the right time for it to be discussed, he also knew it wasn't any of his business.

  “I want more, Josh.”

  “What do you mean? More what?”

  “More from our relationship. We've been dating almost three years. I want us to be committed.”

  “I am committed to you, Jinx. You're the only one I love. You're the only one I want. I'm not seeing anyone else.” Josh didn't understand what she was getting at.

  Jinx just shook her head and looked away, disheartened that the thought of marriage wouldn't even come to his mind.

  “I don't understand, baby. You have to tell me.”

  She didn't want to say it. She was afraid she already knew what his answer would be and she didn't think she could bear to hear it.

  Michael cleared his throat and raised his left hand, showing Josh his wedding band. With that not-so-subtle clue Josh then realized what she was trying to ask. He numbly sat back in his seat as the thought sunk in. He didn't utter another word as he pondered her request.

  “Yeah,” Jinx wiped away her tears. “I knew that's what you'd say,” she bitterly remarked.

  “I love you, Jasmine. How would being married change that?”

  “If it's such a little thing, then why can't you do it?” She shook her head. “You love me,” she continued. “Just not enough to marry me.”

  The conversation had gone exactly how she had feared it would. Though not surprised, she still felt crushed. The tears continued to fall but she forced herself not to break down completely.

  Josh realized then what marriage meant to her. It was proof to her of just how much he loved her. The thought of marriage scared Josh more than the mission they were about to take on. At the same time, he loved Jinx more than anything in the world and he couldn't bear to see her so distraught. And he couldn't bear to have her think that he didn't love her enough to set his fears aside and make the ultimate commitment to her.

  “Jasmine, I love you more than you can possibly imagine,” Josh said. “And if marrying you is what it will take to prove it to you, then Jasmine Flores. Will you marry me?”

  As the words left his lips, Josh felt like he might faint. His heart pounded in his chest and he felt ill. He couldn't believe he just said it. Neither could Michael and Martin.

  Jinx couldn't believe her ears. “What did you say?”

  “Will you marry me?” he repeated.

  “Are you pulling my leg?” She thought he must be joking with her.

  “God, baby, just answer the question,” Josh said, exasperated.

  She stared at him with her mouth wide open. He just looked back at her waiting for a response.

  “Yes,” she said finally. “Yes.” A huge smile grew on her face and she thrust herself in his arms. “Yes, I'll marry you.”

  Unable to contain her emotions, she sobbed into his neck as he held her tight. Josh tried not to think too hard about what he just agreed to. It made Jinx happy though and right now that was all he cared about.

  When they reached Boston, Jinx stayed with Martin and Josh as they gathered their passports and supplies. Michael went to visit Jessica in the hospital. She was resting quietly when he came in and sat beside her.

  She looked over at him and smiled. “What is it?” she asked.

  “What do you mean?”

  “I know how to read you, Michael. What is it you don't want to tell me?”

  He sighed and looked away. “I have to go out of the country for a little bit.”

  “Why?” she asked sounding somewhat irritated.

  “I'd rather not tell you,” he answered.

  “Well now you have to.”

  Michael took his time responding. He knew she would not take the news well. He tried to soften the blow. “Lance is stuck in Venezuela and I need to go bring him back.”

  “What do you mean he's stuck?” She was getting agitated.

  He ran his fingers through his hair and answered, “Meier's men took him.”

  “Why do you have to go?”

  “He's in trouble, Jess. He knows who we are. He knows we have the laptop. Even if he could hold out forever, I don't want him to. I'm going to bring him back.”

  “But why do you have to do it?” she asked again. “Why can't someone else? Why can't Tim do something about it. Why is it always you?”

  “Look, I don't want to get too much into it but the agency is compromised. In fact every agency is compromised. Tim can't help him. No one can. Except possibly me.”

  “I like how you qualify that,” she said as frustrated tears rolled down her face. “Possibly you. So you know you might not come back.” Her voice broke and her hand clenched into a fist as she struggled to hold it together.

  “My chances are good but there's always a risk.”

  “How can you do this to me?”

  “I'm sorry Jess. I have to.”

  She shook her head with her eyes still closed. “Just go.”

  “Please don't be angry with me.” He reached out and touched her hand.

  She forced herself to look at him as a flood of tears fell from her eyes. “Please come back to me.”

  He smiled softly and wiped away her tears. “I love you.”

  UNSURE WHETHER Jeff would really lend his plane to him, Michael was pleased that it was fueled and waiting for them. He knew Gatti wouldn't help even if he could and Kevin definitely would not have helped if he knew what they were planning. If Jeff hadn't come through, their travel arrangements would have become an issue.

  Except for a brief discussion of strategy, the men didn't speak much during the sixteen-hour flight to Valencia, Venezuela. Aside from the walls, they didn't know how many guards Ortiz had or what other security measures he had in place. While Michael had a rough idea for getting inside the complex, they would need to gather intel to formulate a more solid plan. Michael tried not to think of all the possible negative outcomes.

  As soon as the plane touched down they got to work. They acquired a rental car and headed straight to Ortiz's estate to see what they were up against. Trekking through some nearby woods, they were soon looking at his heavily secured property.

  The fourteen foot cement walls with razor-sharp barbed wire on top were no joke. If they managed to get over the wall, then they had to deal with security cameras set in every corner of the compound. As if that wasn't enough, there were patrolling guards with dogs.

  “I have to say Michael, I don't have much confidence in your plan,” Martin said as he surveyed the security.

  “That's for me to worry about,” Michael replied. “Can Luca get what we need?”

  “Yeah,” Martin answered.

  “Do you really think you can trust Jeff with your life, Michael?” Josh asked.

  “I don't have a choice.”

  Josh shook his head and looked back at the estate.

  For the next few hours, they took notes on the patrols, looking for any gaps in their coverage. In the corners, there were blind spots in the camera coverage but that's where the patrolling guards came in. With them circling the yard there was virtually no way to get in undetected. Michael asked Josh to survey the wall and look for the best breach point. While Josh was off doing that, Michael spoke privately to Martin.

  “If this goes wrong, which is a definite possibility,” Michael said.
“Promise me you won't let Josh come in after me.”

  “Michael, I won't even promise that I won't.”

  “Martin, come on. You see this place.”

  “When you were a soldier Michael, how many times did you leave a man behind?” Martin looked at him.

  Michael looked away shaking his head. He knew where this was going. “Never.”

  “Exactly.” Martin turned his attention back to Ortiz's estate.

  Michael frowned. “When Josh gets back we should find a place to crash for the night. Did Luca say when we'd have the items?”

  “He has a contact in Colombia that is getting the stuff together. We should have it within twenty-four hours.”

  “God, I hope this works,” Michael remarked.

  “You and me both,” Martin agreed.

  JOSH RETURNED after scoping out the wall. There were two spots, each with its own pros and cons. They could debate later on which one to use. Having seen about all they needed, they left to find a place to stay until they met with Luca's man. They rented a room in a hotel that was just one step above a mud hut. With only one bed, the sleeping arrangements were uncomfortable, to put it lightly. The room was so dirty the men figured the housemaids, assuming there were some, didn't get paid much.

  Luca's contact met them the next day with the weapons, equipment, and explosives that Martin had requested. They returned to the hotel with two large duffel bags. They had just sat the bags on the bed when there was a knock at their door. Arming himself, Josh cautiously went to see who was there. Looking through the peephole, he saw a familiar smile.

  “Dmitri!” He opened the door and invited him in.

  Dmitri was Michael's age with short brown hair and brown eyes. He was tall and attractive with a muscular build that rivaled Michael's.

  “Hello Josh. Michael. Martin.” He looked at them as he said their names.

  “Nice to see you again,” replied Martin.

  “I see you got my message.” Michael held his hand out to him.

  “I did.” Dmitri shook his hand. “You sure know how to get yourself in trouble, don't you Michael?”