“Not really,” Reskova relaxed a little. “Romanko’s definitely in charge of their mob now. I think they were just on a fishing expedition because of their top guys getting busted. I…I’m sorry about…”
“Forget it, Red. You don’t have to apologize for anything, especially worrying about me. Now, I know this is probably a bad time to talk about this but you have to try and be objective. Al Zoubi filled in the blanks about the smuggling route. I brought out a young man with friends at one of the other smuggling stops. I’m…”
“Cold…don’t say it! You look like hell. You must have lost thirty pounds. You’re out of there. For God’s sake, you can’t be considering…”
“Hey,” McDaniels cut her off. “Let me speak to Assistant Director Reskova for a moment, will you? It was barely twenty pounds by the way.”
“That’s why you haven’t already shaved off that wild ass beard,” Reskova commented dejectedly. She reached over and pushed a key on her keyboard. “Go ahead. Give it to me formally. I’ll present it the Director.”
McDaniels spent the next twenty minutes outlining a plan of action. Specifying the goals of the mission, McDaniels listed pinpointing the other way-stations and recruiting the friends Mehmed had mentioned as the most important objectives. He ended by proffering a planned Internet information drop for the men he recruited and leaving them Satellite phones for communication.
“We can know exactly what and when anything moves along the route if I can convince Mehmed’s friends to give us a heads up when they have movement through their area,” McDaniels concluded.
“Besides their friendship with this Mehmed, why would they help?”
“Because I’m going to give them a thousand dollars worth of gold each. If they get on board, I’ll promise them more for each shipment we trace over the border and into Iraq.”
“You think someone here will authorize that kind of payout?”
“They already have. I still have five thousand in gold they gave me when I went in this last time.”
Reskova considered the information silently for a moment. “I’ll need at least a day to present your plan and get back to you. How hot is the trail you left from al Zoubi’s encampment?”
“Now you’re thinking like the AD Reskova I know and love. Mehmed, the Nakhuda family, al Zoubi, and three of his guards all disappeared without a trace. They won’t know what to think for quite a while. They’ll probably write it off. Things will cool down for the time being until al Zoubi can be replaced with someone familiar with the operation. That will not be easy.”
“They’ll be all over the camp you took al Zoubi out of. It’s wishful thinking about them writing it off.”
“The route’s too important for them to shut it down,” McDaniels pointed out. “Besides, I won’t be there. They can scour the place for twenty miles in all directions. Unless they bring a psychic along, it will still be a wild goose chase. I, in the meantime, will take the opportunity to go recruit.”
“It sounds so simple when you put it like that, Cold. Okay, I’ll get all this to Aginson first thing in the morning. Do you need anything else?”
“Nope. I have new batteries for the DVD player.”
“You show me yours,” Reskova whispered, “and I’ll give you a live show right now.”
“Jesus, Mary, and Joseph,” McDaniels gasped as Reskova began slowly stripping in front of him.
* * *
“Colonel,” Bocelli called out as McDaniels exited his quarters. He jogged up next to him in the darkness.
“Jed?” McDaniels acknowledged, pulling his parka tighter in the biting cold. “Why aren’t you in your rack? It’s colder than a coal miner’s ass out here.”
“The Lieutenant wants to know if you needed a patrol or anything before we hit the sack.”
“Awwww…” McDaniels crooned, walking toward the middle of the camp, “that’s so sweet. My business is done for a while, at least until I can convince the suits to let me go map the smuggling route I found out about.”
“You talked to AD Reskova,” Bocelli said knowingly. “I haven’t seen you in over a month but I can hear the far away tone in your voice.”
“You’re annoying me, kid. Thanks for not mentioning my having your DVD player to Martinson.”
“No biggie. Your friends at the office have adopted us. When they heard I loaned you my DVD player they sent new ones for the whole squad. Oh, I almost forgot. Kay sent a couple of pictures for you. I meant to give them to you when we met up tonight but al Zoubi needed a little more of your attention.”
Bocelli took two plastic laminated photos out of his breast pocket and handed them to McDaniels. McDaniels looked at the first one as Bocelli shielded the small beam from McDaniels’ Maglite with his body even though the men kept moving. It was never a sound idea to reveal any movement in camp. McDaniels chuckled at the picture of Ansa and Suraya holding little Cold between them. A smiling Kay sat next to them toasting with what looked like a shot-glass.
McDaniels laughed uproariously at the second one of an obviously inebriated Barrington and Rutledge, locked in a partially clothed embrace inside Barrington’s office, their startled looks captured perfectly by the camera. On the back of the family picture, Kay had written ‘I am the man’. On the back of the second photo Kay explained Barrington and Rutledge had thought they could sneak away from the office New Year’s Eve Party. McDaniels pocketed the photos.
“It seems Kay is as twisted as you are, Sir. How’s he get away with pulling that stuff on his boss? Tom must have a great sense of humor.”
“The old fashioned way, Jed – blackmail. What do you mean twisted?”
* * *
“I’m sorry I couldn’t get over here earlier,” Reskova apologized to the group sitting around the meeting table. “I had to give the Director a non-biased presentation of Cold’s latest Mission Impossible.”
“No wonder you look so good today,” Rutledge said.
There were shared exclamations of happiness around the table. In addition to Rutledge, Barrington, and Rasheed, Pete Donaldson sat in on the meeting.
“He looked like hell,”
“What is this mission you speak of?” Rasheed was not smiling.
“Cold wants to recon the smuggling route, zero in the coordinates he received from al Zoubi, and recruit a few Syrians at one of the stations.”
“My God,” Rutledge said in a hushed voice. “Cold does know we have an army over in Iraq and it isn’t necessary for him to win the war single-handedly, right?”
“Sometimes I wonder. It really doesn’t matter what anyone thinks at this point. He has the go ahead from Aginson. He’d have probably gone whether Aginson okayed it or not. It’s the main entrance for much of the stuff being used to kill our guys over there.”
“What did you mean he looked like hell, Diane?” Barrington asked. “You don’t mean he was wounded, do you?”
“No. He’d lost about twenty pounds and that beard he was sporting made him look worse than he probably was. After Cold politely reminded me of my duty, I’ve went into supervisor mode to see this through. When he goes over the border he’ll be incommunicado anyway.”
“The little Cold will be walking before he returns,” Rasheed commented. “He has not paid me for the desk he broke yet either.”
“Cold’s sending a young man named Mehmed Ahmadi out with the Nakhuda family,” Reskova said after the group shared a laugh over Rasheed’s desk reference. “He was the guard Cold picked out and made a deal with. According to Cold, Mehmed would make a great addition to our team. Can you help him make the transition, Kay?”
“I will treat him as a brother. If my friend singled him out, he must be very good indeed.”
“He was instrumental in helping get the Nakhuda family out. Mehmed is only twenty so he will be a younger brother. I’m not sure yet what kind of category I’ll be able to classify him under. With his language skills and the experience he’s had in Syria he could be invaluable. We’
ll never be able to win this war trying to infiltrate the enemy with white people.”
“I wish your President shared your views,” Rasheed replied.
“Let’s not open that wound. We’re working under the handicap of open borders, millions of illegal aliens already here, and metropolitan cities like New York and Houston declaring they will not enforce our immigration laws. Add to the mix God only knows how much dangerous contraband, both nuclear and conventional, and we’ll need all the Mehmeds Cold can recruit. I’m done for the day. If there aren’t any questions, you bunch should take off too.”
“Did you already give Cold the go ahead, Diane?” Barrington asked.
“Yes, right after the meeting with Aginson. He’ll be going in tonight probably.”
“The guys loved the DVD players we sent them,” Rutledge said before Reskova could turn to leave. “Abe wrote me to tell you they all approved of the DVD collection you picked out to send along with the players too and to compliment you on your good taste.”
“I just pictured the movie titles Cold would watch and listed them. I figured the guys wouldn’t want to see Fried Green Tomatoes or Titantic.”
They said their goodbyes and left together - all but Rasheed, who returned to his workstation. When Donaldson noticed Rasheed was not walking out with them he went back in the office. Seeing Rasheed working on his computer, Donaldson walked over and sat down next to him.
“What’s up, Kay?”
“I needed to check on the Russian Romanko again. We have surveillance on him since you and I found some of his mob fooling around in the Pentagon traitor’s apartment.”
“He can’t touch the Colonel. Since we’re already on his trail, what’s bothering you about him?”
“I am not sure.” Rasheed scanned the latest report listings on Romanko’s movements. “Why did he have his Lieutenant murdered, the guy named…ah…”
“Alexi Neditch?”
“Yes, and why have the police not been able to move on the suspected killer, Kojovich?” Diane told us it would be a local police thing but it appears the police care very little for the job.”
“When mob guys knock each other off the police usually just wait it out until things return to normal,” Donaldson explained. “One more time - what’s not right?”
“I have a bad feeling Cold was not the target of all this.”
“They accessed his records or at least paid to have them accessed.”
“Perhaps they just wanted what we discussed before: his whereabouts. That could only mean…”
“Reskova might be the target,” Donaldson finished. “That makes sense but I don’t think the Russians want that kind of heat. They mess with someone as far up the food chain as Diane and they know we’ll…”
“Nonsense,” Rasheed cut him off with a gesture of disgust. “I am tired of hearing about all the things we will do if these criminals do this or that. Why do we not do it before they do?”
“It’s complicated. I’m with you but the only thing that kind of thinking will get you is prison time.”
“Yes, I have noticed everyone but the criminals end up in prison, at least the ones at the top. I still have not found anything tying Diane’s name in with this Romanko gang. They have shown no interest in her. Yet she would be the only other target for which they would need to know Cold’s whereabouts.”
“I think we need time to let a few more pieces fall into place,” Donaldson suggested. “It’s not like we’re giving up on the investigation. Maybe if the Syrians regroup we’ll catch them either talking or meeting up with the Russians again. It won’t be a local law enforcement deal then.”
“It is like having a horse race with the barn doors closed,” Rasheed snapped.
“I think you mean closing the barn door after the horses get out.”
“I have a feeling they already raced out,” Rasheed muttered, staring at his screen.
Chapter 45
Hughes Brothers
Reskova smiled as she rode the elevator up to her apartment floor, remembering McDaniels’ rage when she explained the Russian situation had been given over to police jurisdiction. She had patiently explained they had turned up nothing in regard to Terrorist ties involving the three Russian mobsters captured by Rasheed and Donaldson. During time Reskova thought she could have been giving McDaniels another sendoff he would not forget on disc, she listened to his laundry list of what he called common sense reasons to clamp down tightly on the Russians without letup. Reskova had promised him she would present his concerns to the Director but she doubted Aginson would be moved by McDaniels’ reasoning. Reskova shook her head, trying to physically clear her mind of McDaniels being out of contact again for an indefinite period.
Reskova walked out of the elevator, steeling herself for Dino’s wild cavorting as he tried to hurry her into walking him. She mentally considered buying a wagon with reins and hitching Dino up to it. The walk always took her mind off the day. In spite of her weariness she looked forward to it. Reskova paused. She smelled an unfamiliar odor as she approached her apartment. Looking around, she could not determine the source. Unlocking the apartment door, Reskova missed the numerous telltale signs of foot traffic around the entrance to her apartment. She never glanced down at the broken tape at the bottom of her door. The weird smell was stronger inside her apartment. Dino lay near the door, breathing heavily as if in a deep sleep. As she bent down to put a hand on him, two sets of Taser needles struck her.
Reskova fell painfully to the carpeted floor, her last thought before she lost consciousness was of embarrassment. As she passed out from the shock and pain, Reskova could almost see McDaniels shaking his head in disgust at how stupid she had been. Her last conscious action was to smile.
“Charlie, what the hell do you think the bitch is smilin’ at?” John Hughes asked his brother.
“Maybe she got off on the pain,” Charlie Hughes offered.
“Get her into the trunk you fools,” Mikhail Kojovich ordered angrily. “We must be out of here quickly.”
The two brothers picked Reskova up roughly and threw her into a large open luggage trunk near the entrance. They closed the lid and locked it in place. The trunk incorporated furniture moving class wheels at its base with a heavy duty pull out handle at the top. When the brothers were ready to wheel Reskova’s body out of the apartment, Kojovich repositioned Dino’s body slightly, on the outside chance someone would come into the apartment before the dog regained consciousness. Kojovich stepped outside the apartment and scouted ahead all the way to the stairwell.
Kojovich looked over the two brothers with part apprehension and part ridicule. They had arrived at the meeting place he had arranged dressed like two rubes from Hoboken. John Hughes bore a startling resemblance to his dead brother Stanton - lean, hard-muscled, and a meanness to his eyes no smile would ever hide. At six feet tall, John was almost dwarfed by his younger brother Charlie, who stood six and a half feet tall in his stocking feet. Charlie Hughes carried an extra twenty or thirty pounds around his belly. He handled the Reskova laden trunk as if it weighed next to nothing. Both men had been sporting dark beards, long unkempt hair past their necks, dirty jeans, boots, and threadbare coats and shirts. Kojovich controlled his inward rage at the sight of them. He spent the next four hours getting the two brothers haircuts, shaves, and complete new outfits. They now looked as non-descript as anyone else on the streets of Washington D.C.
“You pull the trunk, John,” Kojovich directed. “Once we get down the stairs to street level, Charles and I will go get the van. Start walking down the street in the opposite direction of the van. We will drive up next to you. Charles will help you load the body. You are less noteworthy, John, which is why I want you to walk out with the trunk.”
“It’s dark out,” John replied. “Hell, nobody will…”
“Shut up and do as I say,” Kojovich cut him off. “You do not wish to be seen or caught. I certainly do not wish for you to be caught. Let us do this as we planne
d. Soon, you will be heading back to Texas with the woman.”
Although John Hughes did not normally take verbal guff from anyone, he had glimpsed some of the men working within the Russian’s sphere of influence. They had been the type of men who killed or maimed without mercy. He took the handle of the trunk from his brother without further comment.
When the two brothers and the trunk with Reskova’s body were in the van, Kojovich drove away, mentally going over every step they had taken. They had all worn hats and gloves. The dog had been gassed where it stood barking at the door to the apartment. Kojovich had picked the locks on the door with professional expertise. It had only been a matter of giving the dog a shot to render it unconscious safely. He kept the brothers from wandering around or touching anything with constant angry reminders. Kojovich pulled over when they were nearly ten miles away. He went into the rear of the van, unlocked the trunk, and opened it. After stuffing in a blanket around Reskova, he checked her pulse and then gave her a sedative intravenously.
“Do either of you have any questions?” Kojovich asked after assuming the driving duties once again.
“Why didn’t we kill the dog?” Charlie Hughes asked.
“For the same reason I took her car keys and will go back to get her car.” Kojovich sighed in frustration, having answered the question in detail numerous times. “We want her co-workers or friends to find the dog alive and well, barking at the door. When they find her car gone, it should keep them wondering for a while.”
“You really going to give us this van? When can we play with her?”
“Not until we get McDaniels, John. We’ve been over all that. You and Charles will be holding her until McDaniels is either killed in Iraq or they get word to him about Reskova’s disappearance. We’ll get rid of that old truck you drove up in. That way, even if someone saw you arrive in the city with it, you won’t be driving it to Texas. The papers are in the glove compartment. Transfer it from the dummy corporation we have it registered to into your own names.”
“You ain’t plannin’ on sending McDaniels our way, are you?” John Hughes persisted. “Ain’t no one could take our brother Stanton in the woods. McDaniels did and took his head to boot.”
Monster Page 47
