The Cain Deception

by Mike Ryan

“You know every time I talk to him I feel like he’s giving me the runaround. Like he’s just saying stuff to appease me,” Cain said.

  Chapter 10

  It’d been a few days since Cain interrogated Ackers. Since then no new leads had developed. It was a frustrating couple of days for Cain, waiting around for something to happen. He couldn’t stand just waiting for Lawson or Sanders to call with a lead. He was getting tired of being cooped up in there, knowing there was a target on their backs. Cain and Heather had just finished eating lunch when he heard a phone going off. It wasn’t either of theirs though. Cain remembered the phone Raines gave him and rushed into the bedroom where he had it sitting on the bureau. He eagerly answered it, hoping Raines had something good to tell him.

  “Nice to talk to you again,” Raines greeted.

  “Since you’re calling I assume you got something for me.”

  “Well it is something. Exactly what, I cannot say for sure. It appears that you have a phantom targeting you.”

  “What do you mean by that?” Cain asked.

  “Because as far as I can tell, Dmitri Kurylenko does not exist,” Raines stated.

  “He doesn’t? You can’t find anything on him?”

  “I cannot. As a matter of fact I cannot find a trace of evidence of him ever being in existence.”

  “Don’t you find that a little strange?” Cain wondered.

  “Absolutely. So I took it one step further.”

  “How’s that?”

  “I have a contact that works for Russian Intelligence,” Raines said.

  “That must come in handy.”

  “It does. I asked him to check their records to see if Dmitri ever worked for them.”

  “And?”

  “As far as he can tell there has never been a Dmitri Kurylenko that has ever worked for the SVR or any branch of Russian Intelligence,” Raines informed him.

  “How can that be if we have a file on him? Is it possible they’re covering the information up and are trying to hide his existence?”

  “With Russian Intelligence that is always a possibility. However, in this instance, my contact strongly denies that it’s being done in this case.”

  “Maybe he’s not really a brother. Cousin or something like that,” Cain reasoned.

  “I asked him to check everything they have on Andrei, and they’ve been tracking him for a long time, and they have no record of a brother. They claim Andrei was an only child, which coincides with my knowledge of him. Their unofficial stance is that Dmitri Kurylenko is a fictional character and does not exist. He’s a ghost.”

  “Well then who the hell is after me?”

  “That is a very good question. One that I cannot answer at the moment.”

  “We found the guy that took the pictures and he said the guy that hired him was an American. He said the man talked with no accent and he identified the picture we had of Kurylenko as the guy that hired him,” Cain stated.

  “That is interesting. I do have another suggestion.”

  “I’m open to anything.”

  “This man we know as Dmitri has been in America but has not shown up on your radar.”

  “Correct.”

  “He talks with no accent that we know of.”

  “Yeah.”

  “That would seem to suggest to me that you’re looking for the wrong thing.”

  “What should we be looking for?” Cain asked.

  “Instead of a Russian who has somehow eluded your sensors, perhaps you should be looking for an American who’s posing as a Russian.”

  “What about the apartment in Russia with the pictures?”

  “You said yourself it looked like it’d hardly been lived in. We both know it’s easy enough to set up a dummy apartment. You could hire anyone to plop down a payment and throw up some pictures.”

  “If that was the case, then it would mean they expected me to find it at some point,” Cain reasoned.

  “Yes it would.”

  “But why?”

  “That is the million dollar question,” Raines said.

  “What about this Yushkevitch character that I met with? Find anything on him?”

  “I did.”

  “Well at least we didn’t come up totally empty,” Cain said.

  “I’ll preface it by saying there’s not much to tell about him. As far as working for Andrei, there are no records of that, and no reason to believe that is the case. As far as anything else, he’s a low level criminal who’s spent time in a psychiatric unit. It’s highly unlikely he’s aware of anything going on.”

  “Does it seem possible he’s the one who took a shot at me?”

  “Tough to say. Considering that they missed I’d say it’s a good bet they didn’t use a professional. Since he was in the area it’s conceivable that they might’ve paid him to try his hand at you, though I can’t say with conviction in either scenario.”

  “OK. Well, I’ll run Kurylenko’s face through our facial rec scan and see if we can pull something up,” Cain said.

  “I would say that’s a good idea,” Raines agreed. “I would also be careful if I were you.”

  “In what way?”

  “If it is true that Dmitri Kurylenko does not exist, which appears to be a strong possibility, then somebody’s trying very hard to deceive you. I would trust no one with what you’re about to do. Not Sanders, not Shelly, maybe not even your girlfriend. You cannot afford to take chances with their loyalties. I would say that someone close to you is not who they appear to be. You must be discreet.”

  “You might be right.”

  “Whatever you decide to do please let me know of your findings. I’m curious,” Raines told him.

  “I will.”

  “Of course, for my part, I will continue to sniff around to see if I can come up with something. If I do I will be sure to let you know.”

  “I appreciate it.”

  Cain went back into the living room and sat down next to Heather on the sofa as she was reading the newspaper.

  “Who was that?” Heather wondered.

  “Oh, just a contact.”

  “Anything that’ll help?”

  “Maybe. Too soon to say,” Cain replied. “Listen, I’m gonna have to go to the office for a little bit. Do you mind staying here by yourself for an hour or so?”

  “Course not. I’ll be fine. Just like usual.”

  “I’ll be back before you know it,” he told her, giving her a goodbye kiss.

  Cain left for The Center and once he entered the building immediately headed for the analysts’ room. He spotted the same guy that ran the picture for him before and figured he’d ask him to run the picture he had on Kurylenko since they were already familiar with each other.

  “Excuse me? Do you have a few minutes?” Cain politely asked.

  “Sure,” the analyst replied.

  “I don’t think I ever caught your name before.”

  “Oh, it’s Bill. Bill Heyward,” he replied, shaking Cain’s hand.

  “I have another favor to ask of you.”

  “Name it.”

  “I have a picture here of a man I’d like you to run,” Cain said, handing him the photo.

  “OK, no problem. It’ll take about the same time as before probably.”

  “Just one other thing. Don’t tell anyone else about this. If you get any info on him call me directly.”

  “This is highly unusual. Most requests come from handlers or the directors and they usually always need to be informed of any results we get,” Heyward objected.

  “I’m gonna tell you the truth. I received a file of this man who is supposed to be in Russian Intelligence. I have a contact who says he never heard of him. He doesn’t exist. So if we find a match in the U.S. database that means someone’s lying. Someone in this agency. We can’t afford to tell the wrong person about this. Once I get the information I’ll decide how to proceed and who we can trust,” Cain told him. “You with me?”

  “Wow. That’s he
avy stuff. You really think someone in this agency is covering stuff up?”

  “I’m not sure. If there’s no match then maybe not. But if there is…then we got a problem. Either someone is giving this agency bad information on purpose or someone in this agency is intentionally giving out bad info. Either way we need to find out.”

  “All right. I’m in,” Heyward responded. “I’ll let you know if anything comes up.”

  “Thank you.”

  Cain slipped out of the room quickly before anyone caught him there and wondered what was up. It seemed like a quiet day there as it didn’t seem as busy as usual. It appeared that most of the directors and handlers were out of the office which made it easier for him to go unnoticed. He was back home within the hour, surprising Heather at how quickly he made it back.

  “That really was fast,” she gushed.

  “I just couldn’t stand being away from you.”

  “Sweet talker.”

  Cain and Heather spent the next few hours just trying to pass the time. They watched TV, played some card games, and just talked. They were just starting to get ready for dinner when Cain’s phone rang. It was Heyward. He just started running the scan about six hours ago. If he was calling so soon that must’ve meant that he got a hit already. Cain excitedly answered his phone.

  ‘Hey, what’d you find?” Cain asked.

  “Some pretty interesting stuff. I mean this is just crazy.”

  “Did you get a match?”

  “We did.”

  “Who is it?”

  “Comes up as a man named Brian Chapman. Ring a bell?” Heyward asked.

  “No. Does he have a sheet? Any Russian aliases?”

  “No aliases. But it seems this guy has been arrested and jailed more times than you can shake a stick at.”

  “For what?”

  “Robbery, assault, murder, rape, extortion, burglary, intent to sell, and drug trafficking,” Heyward informed him.

  “Wow.”

  “Yeah. This guy’s a bad dude all the way around.”

  “Send me his info,” Cain said.

  “Sending it to your phone now.”

  “How’d you find him? DMV?”

  “No. I had a feeling he wouldn’t pop up so easily through there so I did a backdoor check and got a hit from an NYPD arrest photo,” Heyward told him. “I was able to piece everything together from there.”

  Cain’s phone beeped indicating he had a new message. He briefly looked at it to make sure it came through.

  “OK. Got it.”

  “So what are you gonna do now?” Heyward asked.

  “I’m gonna go pay Mr. Chapman a visit. Then I’m gonna find out who hired him,” Cain replied.

  “Be careful.”

  “I will. Thanks for the help.”

  “Don’t mention it,” Heyward said. “Oh, by the way, don’t hang up.”

  “Yeah?”

  “Did you find that girl yet?”

  “No, not yet,” Cain answered.

  “Well I’m hoping I have it narrowed down for you in the next few days,” Heyward revealed.

  “What?”

  “The first scan came back negative, but I put it through again, and I ran it through some filters and came up with a list of possibilities. Before I was just checking for the woman but this time I put the boy’s picture through a scan as well. Still a good bit of work to be done though.”

  “I wasn’t told anything about this.”

  “Oh. Really? I’m sure I told Director Sanders about it. Unless I forgot. But I’m almost positive I mentioned it to him and he said he would let you know,” Heyward said.

  “He didn’t mention it.”

  “Oh. I’m sure he probably just forgot or something. He’s got so much information passing through his desk every day it probably just slipped his mind.”

  “Yeah. Probably,” Cain said.

  “Anyway, I’ll keep working on it. Still can’t promise anything or make any guarantees.”

  “I understand. Just let me know.”

  Once they hung up, Cain let the phone slip down by his side as he stared straight ahead, not focusing on anything. He had serious doubts about whether Sanders simply forgot to tell him about the picture. Sanders always had a reason for doing, or not doing, anything. He didn’t just forget. Cain went back into the living room to get ready and let Heather know he was leaving soon.

  “I’m afraid I’m gonna have to skip dinner,” Cain told her.

  “Oh no. Where are you going?”

  “New Jersey. It could be the break we’ve been waiting for.”

  “How long will you be gone?” Heather asked.

  “Probably a few hours at least. Take the same precautions as usual.”

  “I will,” she replied, giving him a kiss.

  Chapman’s address was just over the state line into Jersey and would probably take Cain an hour to get there. But there was no telling whether Chapman was still there or even lived there at all. Cain left around six, in a hopeful mood that everything was coming to a conclusion soon. If Chapman was there then he could end the entire matter in as soon as an hour or two. He hoped so, if only for Heather, so she could get back to a normal life and not be cooped up inside all the time with a bodyguard.

  The address Cain was given was a two story house located in a residential neighborhood. Most of the houses looked pretty similar. Once he located the house he parked his car on the next street over and cut through the yard in the back. He swiftly moved through the yard, the darkness cloaking his movements. He reached the back door of the house and located the security system, quickly rendering it useless. He was inside within a minute, almost instantly picking the lock. He was amazed that someone of his ilk wouldn’t have a better security system but he probably felt most people wouldn’t be trying to mess with him too much. Whatever the case, Cain used it to his advantage as he started poking around inside. Once he established that Chapman wasn’t there he began going through every room, trying to find any information he could that could shed some light on what was happening. He went through every file cabinet, closet, and table drawer he came across until he finally found something interesting. Cain sat down at the desk in the living room and started ransacking the drawers, pulling out everything he saw. He pulled out an unmarked file folder and opened it, revealing pictures of both Cain and Heather. They were copies of the pictures he found inside Kurylenko’s apartment in Russia. That seemed to make it a slam dunk that Chapman and Kurylenko were the same person. He couldn’t come to any other conclusion as to why he’d have the same pictures. There was no other explanation. As far as any other information that was useful there was none. Just the pictures which really didn’t help him any. He’d already suspected Chapman was the guy he was looking for but what he didn’t know was who else was involved. Cain had doubts that Chapman was the leader in this little game and figured somebody was above him calling the shots. He put the pictures back in the folder and closed it, leaving it on the desk as he swiveled around in the chair, facing the door. He pulled his gun out and let it rest on his leg as he waited for Chapman to come. Cain took turns between staring at the door, waiting for the knob to start turning, and looking at the window, waiting for the headlights of his car to shine through. After a couple hours of waiting he sent Heather a text, wanting to make sure she was OK, and just asked how she was.

  “I’m good. Miss you,” Heather wrote back. “Wish you were home.”

  “I will be soon hopefully,” he replied.

  “Love you.”

  “Love you too,” Cain messaged.

  After putting the phone down, Heather started cleaning the kitchen to pass the time away. She was really hoping that Cain would be back soon. Though she could take care of herself, she did feel better, and safer, when he was around. After cleaning for a few minutes there was a knock on the door. Startled, Heather jumped and knocked a glass off the counter, shattering it once it hit the floor. Her heart started racing, wondering who was ther
e. She remembered what Cain had told her and raced to the drawer that had the gun in it. She picked it up, her shattered nerves making it shake in her hand. She tried to be still for a minute, careful as to not making a sound, hoping that whoever was there would go away. It didn’t help though, as her heart started pounding even more when the knocking resumed a few seconds later.

  “Pizza delivery,” a man shouted from beyond the door.

  Heather scrunched her face, confused, since she knew she didn’t order anything. She tip-toed her way over to the door, still trying to not make a sound. Her mind raced with different thoughts of what she’d do if the man was dangerous and broke in. Would she be able to do what Cain instructed her to? Would she actually be able to pull the trigger and shoot someone?

  She wasn’t sure if she could actually squeeze the trigger and do what was necessary.

  “Pizza,” the man shouted again, knocking.

  Heather stood to the side of the door wondering what she should do. She could feel the sweat pouring off her body. The person didn’t seem to be going away. Though if it was someone dangerous she assumed they’d be trying to force their way in by now. Maybe it was just an honest mistake, she thought. Maybe they were delivering to the wrong address. After knocking again, Heather figured she’d just tell them it was the wrong address.

  “Pizza delivery,” the man yelled again, knocking even stronger.

  “I think you’ve got the wrong apartment,” Heather yelled back. “I didn’t order any pizza.”

  The man replied with her address and apartment number, saying that’s who the order was for.

  “But I didn’t order it,” Heather restated.

  “Maybe someone else ordered it for you,” the man replied. “It’s already paid for, ma’am. I’ll hold it up to the peep hole so you can take a look at it.”

  “OK.”

  She looked through the peep hole and saw the man, who didn’t look dangerous, holding a pizza box. He held it up and opened it so she could see it was a pizza.