Chasing the Captain

by Terry Shepherd

  Jess flipped through her mental Rolodex. “Mob boss. Life sentence. Escaped prison about six years ago. Disappeared.”

  “Well, he’s reappeared. The plastic surgery didn’t fool me when I finally saw him. By then, it was too late.”

  The van lurched into a right turn, knocking Jess on her side. By now, she knew how to move with the cuffs on and could sit back up quickly.

  “Vincent didn’t know who he was. But the FBI did. They wanted Giovanni, and I became the bait… again.”

  “Maria Elena de Triste.” The story was coming back to Jess now. “The wife of the head of a New York crime family turns on her husband and provides the testimony that puts him away for life. You disappeared soon after the verdict. The rumor was you were dead.”

  Maria Elena de Triste shrugged her shoulders. “Do I look dead? Witness protection program. I don’t know why they decided on Nashville, but that’s where I went. New parents, new life, and eventually, a new love.”

  “Vincent Culpado.”

  “Yes. I loved Vincent with all my heart. When I learned that Giovanni had insinuated himself into Vince’s confidence, it broke me. I told my handlers, and they came up with a plan to smoke Giovanni out.”

  “Faking your death.”

  “Vincent confronted me about this so-called affair. Of course, it never happened. But by then, the FBI saw it as another escape route.”

  “Did Vincent Culpado push you into the river like the DA alleged?”

  “Yes. I knew I might die, but it was a chance I was willing to take.”

  “So, the Feds found someplace else for you to hide.”

  “And someone found me and brought Giovanni with her.”

  The revelation was devastating. They had played Jess. She was just as much of a sucker as was the man she saw burned in a Tennessee electric chair. Taking the next leap required little in the way of brains.

  “So, Giovanni de Triste is now Jack Crawford?”

  “Of course, he is. The FBI only just figured that one out. Giovanni has been on the Most Wanted list for years. Now they have a new face and a new name to chase. So, he’s done what he did before. He vanished.”

  Jess’s head was spinning. How could a mob boss build a new empire with no connection to his old life? She remembered the daring prison break. It was said that de Triste had help.

  The van was slowing down. The architecture that loomed out of the lone front window of the vehicle told the tale. They were in downtown London again.

  Marie Culpado, AKA Maria Elena de Triste, slumped back against the side of the van.

  “Who is the money behind this man, Maria? And if Giovanni wants you dead, why are we both still alive?”

  “I think we’re about to find out.”

  That’s when Jess felt it. A single vibration beneath the Kevlar vest, between her sports bra and her chest.

  The two Russian pros had made a mistake.

  They hadn’t taken her cell phone.

  44

  Heathrow Airport – London – United Kingdom

  Alexandra Clark hit the text send button on her burner phone.

  Just left a brand new iPhone with the Nashville Blues. It’s getting boring here, so I’m heading your way. Use this number for the time being.

  The quiet confirmational beep did nothing to quell the feeling of dread she fought.

  Even the toughest constitutions have to process stress.

  Alexandra Clark gave it up after a couple of glasses of wine, a business class meal, and a Xanax. She slept without dreams as her silver bird crossed the Atlantic. A flight attendant had to awaken Ali when the aircraft was on final approach for Heathrow.

  She was going to London with no plan, no contact with her partner, no weapons, a warrant for her arrest likely processing back in Nashville and hardly any headroom left on her credit cards.

  Life was good!

  Too good.

  The ease with which Ali could purchase her tickets, navigated TSA at BNA, and breezed through passport control at O’Hare whispered warnings. When she flipped open her credentials for the kid at immigration at Heathrow, the picture came into focus.

  “One moment, please, Miss Clark.”

  All he did was raise a hand and four burly uniforms surrounded Ali. They wore anti-terror regalia, right down to the hard hats and automatic weapons.

  The one who seemed to be in charge spoke to her softly but firmly.

  “Come with us, please.”

  They knew everything. The tone of his voice and the fact that Ali wasn’t in handcuffs proved it. They knew she was a sister in the profession. They must have been briefed on her background, her temperament, and her adventures in Nashville. And they knew she wouldn’t resist.

  Ali reckoned that anyone who saw the quintet walking down the concourse would have thought she was a VIP under government protection, not a freestyler who had shot two men dead, evaded arrest, and blown the country.

  About one hundred fifty yards later, the little parade stopped in front of an unmarked gray door. The leader pointed in its direction.

  “In here, please.”

  Ali couldn’t be a smartass to these people who were just doing their jobs.

  “Thanks very much for your service. Please stay safe,” was the best she could come up with.

  Ali felt the need to follow the British reserve and knocked on the door, instantly recognizing the person who opened it.

  It was Michael Wright.

  “Welcome to London, Alexandra. Let me introduce you to Commander Thomas Anastos from MI6. And…” Michael paused for effect. “This is Detective Inspector Liyanna Evans.”

  45

  Love at First Sight

  She was shorter than Lee imagined. Five-foot-nine and maybe fifty-four kilograms. Her hair was prematurely gray. It matched her eyes, tired gray eyes that had seen too much hatred and death. If her experience was like Lee’s, just being different was a burden she disguised with audacity.

  The men didn’t like us because we liked women. But we differed from the first generation of lesbians in law enforcement. We weren’t like them, either. We had not paid the price. We weren’t tough enough, a little too feminine.

  But damn, she was beautiful. The ache in Lee’s chest was still there from that Russian cannon shot. But she was feeling something else in that region.

  Focus, Liyanna. You are the only one who can describe the two men who kidnapped both your partner and the woman they ordered you to protect.

  Thomas was talking. Focus on that.

  “The address is a business. I’m afraid you know it well, Agent Wright.”

  “Come on, out with it. Two people’s lives are in danger, and we’ve got to get every resource we can over there to rescue them.”

  “It’s The Maitland Corporation.”

  The way the two men’s eyes locked spoke volumes. But Lee couldn’t tell what they were.

  Officer Clark knew.

  “Maitland!” Her tone was incredulous. “The same fucking Maitland Corporation that sent us the spy in Arizona? The same company that’s a front for the KGB? One hundred to one, your captain is over there, or there’s someone who knows where he is. What the fuck is going on?”

  Agent Wright was clearly struggling. “The Captain and Jack Crawford have Jessica and Maria, Ali. We tracked them to Maitland’s London Headquarters. This is Commander Anastos from MI6 and Liyanna Evans, Jessica’s counterpart at the Met.”

  Lee saw Officer Clark spring to her feet. “OK, let’s go get ‘em.”

  Michael held out a hand. “This is one we have to run up the flagpole, Ali. Some very important people need to weigh in before we go over there and start shooting.”

  “The fuck they do, Michael. What in the hell is wrong with you? The woman you asked to marry you is in that building. So is your little witness from Nashville. They are both there for a reason. And it isn’t for a spa treatment.”

  Officer Clark turned her vitriol toward Commander Anastos.


  “Okay, James Bond. We’re in your territory. I don’t even know why you’re here, but it doesn’t take a genius to deduce that you both are trying to keep DI Evans and me from free-styling. Who do I have to blow to get you to do the right thing and send some SWAT over there to pull our girl’s chestnuts out of the fire?”

  The commander was ice cold. “We all have to serve somebody, Officer Clark. And sometimes that service requires sacrifice.”

  Lee was instantly in love. The sound of Officer Clark’s voice was tantalizing. The fire in her eyes was like a flamethrower. The woman turned that weapon toward Lee. “What are your orders, DI Evans? They allow you to speak, don’t they?”

  Lee was tongue-tied by the sheer power of Officer Clark’s personality. “My last orders were to protect Ms. Blair.”

  “And you’ve fucked that one up pretty badly.”

  Lee reckoned later that she saw the print of the handgun under her shirt. Since Lee had no reason to believe the American might go for it, she wasn’t ready. Her moves were lightning fast. She had the weapon in her hands, racked and pointed at Commander Anastos's head before she finished the sentence.

  “Okay, Commander. Get permission and get the troops over there now. Or I’ll help you make a sacrifice for your country.”

  Agent Wright now had his weapon at the ready. He pointed it at Officer Clark.

  “Don’t do this, Ali. We’ll make the calls, but you must understand that it may take some time to get the permissions we need.”

  Officer Clark didn’t take her eyes off her target.

  “DI Evans, go relieve Agent Wright of his weapon and cover his ass while James Bond here gets us some permission.”

  Agent Wright didn’t move. And Lee wasn’t about to take orders from outside the chain of command.

  “Ali,” Agent Wright was talking softly, almost pleading, “you know I’ll kill you if I have to.”

  “No, you won’t, Mr. Big Stuff. Because then you’ll have to explain it to her. And I don’t think even your PTSD could stand to see your two favorite women in the world die on the same day.”

  Officer Clark slipped her index finger from the safe position, circling the trigger.

  “Make the call, Jimmy. Do it now.”

  Then she gave Lee another order.

  “If you won’t take Michael’s gun, DI Evans, then take his damn cell phone and call your boss.”

  There was an uncomfortable moment where Lee thought there might be gunfire.

  Then Agent Wright blinked. He didn’t lower his weapon, but he glanced in her direction.

  “Okay, Lee. My cell is there on the table. Commander, we’re more likely to get a faster answer from your boss than from mine. Our girl will not put down the gun until we update the committee with what we know about that damn location.”

  Commander Anastos shrugged and dialed.

  So did Lee.

  46

  The Maitland Corporation UK Headquarters—London

  There were at least four men that Jess could count in the darkness as the van’s doors opened. Two held Marie and Jess from behind, switching the traditional handcuffs for zip ties. The other two men put virtual reality headsets over their eyes, cinching the straps so there was no way Marie and Jess could see. Then Jess felt a pair of headphones cover her ears. The cool whisper of the noise-canceling circuitry cut out every other sound.

  A half dozen hands pulled them out of the van, dragging the pair inside of an office building. The odor of janitorial cleaning solution told Jess that. She could also sense the upward movement of an elevator. The place must have had a ton of floors because it took a while before the doors opened, and the apes guided Jess toward wherever it was they were going.

  Two of the bozos picked Jess up as if she were a rag doll and deposited her in some sort of special chair. The zip ties came off. Jess was only unrestrained for a few seconds before leather straps bound her arms and legs. She could feel something sharp and metallic pressing upward against her forearms from what felt like the leather arms of the chair.

  Jess had a vision of Vincent Culpado in the electric chair, and, for a moment, she was terrified.

  There was a painful poke in her left arm. Jess knew from personal experience what that sensation was.

  Somebody was installing an IV line.

  The headsets came to life, and Jess saw two avatars standing at the edge of a placid ocean. The images were a poorly rendered 3D animation. The one on the left spoke.

  “Good evening, Detective Ramirez. I’ve been waiting for this meeting for a long time.”

  “I don’t like playing video games,” Jess barked. “Take these toys off and be a man so I can see you.”

  That’s when she felt the jolt. The sharp things under her forearms were electrodes. They were connected to what must have been one heavy-duty taser. Jess’s body stiffened, and she couldn’t suppress a groan.

  “You’ll be told when you can talk, Detective.” The avatar put an arm on the shoulder of his animated counterpart.

  “Mrs. Blair. May I introduce you to your husband? Your first husband. The one you betrayed.”

  Jess could barely hear Marie’s terrified squeak.

  “Giovanni,” was all she could say before she felt the shock of the taser.

  The first anime continued.

  “You have both caused us extreme inconvenience. Detective Ramirez, you instigated significant delays in a client project very near to my heart. Your only saving grace was that you killed the incompetent woman who failed me.”

  Vega! Jess was speaking to The Captain. Was he in the room? Or was he pulling the puppet strings from Moscow?

  “Mrs. Blair,” The Captain said the words as if they tasted sour. “Or should I say, Mrs. De Triste? By bringing you and Detective Ramirez to me, your husband satisfied his part of a little bargain we made when I helped him escape from prison and become someone else. Encouraging Detective Ramirez to help us find you was a masterstroke. And I am not a man who is easily impressed.”

  The picture Jess saw suddenly changed. It was a mirror image showing Marie and Jess, bound to a pair of what looked like old-school dental chairs. And she was right about the IV. A clear plastic bag filled with liquid hung from a steel hook next to each chair. A man clad completely in black, including a mask that obscured his face, stood between them. A silver tray with syringes on it lay on a table in front of him.

  “And now it’s time for me to deliver on my commitment. Mr. de Triste had hoped that that long fall into the river didn’t kill you. He wanted to watch you die. He will now have that privilege.”

  Marie squirmed in her chair. It was useless.

  “Vega’s obsession with killing had one productive dimension,” The Captain continued. “She provided me with a small recipe. You women can be such excellent cooks when properly motivated. It’s the same mixture of medications that worked so well to incapacitate her victims before she tossed them into the river. Detective Ramirez is very familiar with its contents, but for Mrs. De Triste’s edification, it is a potent muscle relaxant. Its properties strip you of the power to move or breathe. Death comes from brain asphyxiation in ten minutes or less. And it’s virtually untraceable. I don’t know why Vega had to add such drama. The fall into the canyon would have killed her victims without suspicion.”

  Jess had seen the Bergulon do its work. The drug was effective and deadly. She and Marie would still have complete feeling but couldn’t do anything about it.

  “Mr. De Triste,” The Captain continued, “do you have any last words you would like to say to your wife?”

  Something switched in the headphones. There was no auditory disguise in the voice Jess heard.

  “Well, first, I’d like to thank Detective Ramirez. It was so easy to get you to find Marie for me. You notice how I let you turn me down and you still took on the chase? That psychological trick was another gift from my benefactor. But I admit to a small amount of invention on my part. To get you both in the same place at the same
time required some creativity.”

  “The flat.” Jess couldn’t help saying it.

  “Yes, Detective, the flat. Marie never lived there. I knew they were headed to Paris. But I needed you on that train. My benefactor was kind enough to provide a stage on which you could act out your little deductive game. I planted the train schedule. It’s unfortunate that the building was damaged, but I’m sure the owner’s insurance will more than cover construction of a much newer and more valuable property.”

  Lee and Jess had been played. Now Jess was too pissed off to keep her mouth shut.

  “Those pros at the pub would never have missed. We should already be dead. You sacrificed their lives for misdirection. It was the same at the apartment. Good men were killed, just to get me on that damn train. Why didn’t you just grab us at Lee’s flat?”

  The taser shot her again. That time she was expecting it. The thing still hurt like hell.

  The crackle in Jess’s headset told her they turned on the scrambler again. The Captain’s cool voice circled around her.

  “That realization made every expense worthwhile, Detective. I knew I could lure you here if I pressed the right buttons. Approving the execution of your father was all it took.”

  Jess strained against the leather straps. She expected another taser shot. But it didn’t come.

  “As you die, I want you to think about how you failed him, as a police officer and as a daughter.”

  Jess hated to cry. It was the ultimate act of submission. But she couldn’t stop the tears of anger and frustration that flowed down her cheeks.

  “Just like a woman,” The Captain said. “If you want to get a job done, give it to a man.”

  The headphones clicked, and the whisper of the noise-canceling circuitry returned.

  The man in black who stood between Marie and Jess nodded, as if in answer to a command, and picked up one syringe. He was turning to the IV port. She could barely hear Jack Crawford’s voice above the hiss of the headphones.