Target For Revenge

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by Laura Scott


  She was annoyed it took two chops of her hand against his wrist to make him drop the gun. The man was built like a tank. With a roar of rage, he lowered his head and charged her like a bull.

  Easy enough to dance out of his reach, then she brought her arm down on the back of his neck, helping him to the floor. Suddenly Mack was there, joining her in pinning the angry Russian down.

  “Dimitri, is this any way to greet guests?” Sun asked a bit breathlessly. She scooped his gun from the floor, then placed the nose of her weapon against the back of his head with just enough force that he’d know it was there. “Move and I’ll shoot. Get off him, Mack.”

  “Are you hurt?” Mack shifted to the side, keeping a tight hand around Dimitri’s wrist so that his arm was bent up behind his back while he raked his gaze over her.

  “He missed,” she assured him. “Hold the gun on him, will you?”

  Keeping one hand firmly pressed against the guy’s arm wrenched up behind his back, Mack used his other hand to hold his weapon against the back of Dimitri’s head.

  She dropped to her knees beside the guy, bending way down in order to get a good look at his face. “Tsk tsk, bested by a woman, Dimitri. What would your Russian comrades think if they discovered the truth?”

  Dimitri spit out a slew of Russian epithets.

  Mack added pressure to Dimitri’s arm, causing the man to groan in pain. “That’s no way to speak in front of a lady,” he said in Russian.

  “I’ve heard worse,” Sun said, joining the conversation in Dimitri’s native language. “Come now, Dimitri, we don’t have a lot of time. We need to find the bomb you brought into the city via your boat.”

  “I don’t know anything about a bomb,” Dimitri protested.

  “Oh dear, and here I thought you were going to cooperate,” Sun said with a disapproving frown. She pinched the trigger point in his shoulder. “The bomb, Dimitri. There’s no reason for us not to kill you if you won’t tell us what we need to know.”

  It was a bluff, but a good one. Men liked Dimitri never hesitated to kill as needed and were always ready to believe the worst about others.

  “I brought in a package using my boat but handed it over to someone else,” Dimitri finally admitted. “I didn’t know it was a bomb.”

  “Who did you give it to?” Sun bent close. “And don’t think about lying to us or we will hunt you down and kill you like the vermin you are.”

  “I—only know him as Igor. He’s Russian too.”

  Sun glanced at Mack who scowled. She understood his concern, who was to say Igor was the guy’s real name? “Where can we find Igor?”

  “I don’t know!” Dimitri’s voice took on a whiny tone. “I only did as I was told, nothing more.”

  “Not good enough, Dimitri.” Sun increased the pressure on the trigger point. “Where did this exchange take place?”

  “A truck stop between DC and Baltimore. Place called Gerry’s Diner.”

  “You docked your boat in Baltimore?” Mack asked.

  “Yes! I met up with Igor at the truck stop and that was all!” There was an edge of panic in Dimitri’s tone.

  Sun met Mack’s gaze, silently asking if they should press for more.

  “Do you have the phone you used to call Igor?” Mack asked.

  “No.”

  Sun didn’t believe him and quickly felt his pockets, pulling a disposable phone out and looking at him. “What’s the passcode, Dimitri?”

  He didn’t answer.

  “I’ll break into it without a problem, so you may as well tell us,” Mack said.

  Dimitri rattled off the series of numbers.

  “I see there are a couple of DC numbers in here,” Sun said, scrolling through the call list. “Which one belongs to Igor?”

  The big Russian went still. “If I tell you, he’ll kill me.”

  “If that bomb goes off here in the city, we’ll all be dead.” Sun shoved the screen close to his face. “Which one?”

  Dimitri closed his eyes. “The first one.”

  Sun wished she believed him, but there were only two numbers anyway, so it wouldn’t be too difficult to check them both out.

  She slipped the phone into her pocket and rose to her feet. “Thanks, Dimitri, it’s been nice chatting with you.”

  Mack tipped his head toward the door, indicating she should leave first. She rolled her eyes at his protectiveness but headed toward the door. Glancing back over her shoulder, she saw Mack whisper something to Dimitri before he levered up and joined her.

  They left the apartment building as the sound of police sirens grew close. Without speaking, they quickly retraced their circuitous path back to the grocery store where they’d left the SUV.

  “What did you tell him?” Sun asked as she exited the parking lot.

  There was a pause before Mack replied, “I told him that we could have killed him but didn’t. And that if he or Morris lied to us, we’d come back to finish the job.”

  “I don’t think the NSA would approve,” Sun said dryly, knowing it was an empty threat. One thing she liked about Mack was that he didn’t kill unless absolutely necessary.

  The same way she didn’t.

  Mack shrugged and scrubbed his face with his hands. “I don’t have a good feeling about this. These Russians tend to stick together. Dimitri could already be calling Morris, instructing him to warn Igor. If Igor goes underground, we’ll never find him.”

  “We’ll find him,” Sun said grimly.

  They had to.

  * * *

  January 19 – 5:31 p.m. – Washington, DC

  He left the Capitol building and kept a wary eye out for any sign of trouble as he took the stairs down to the street level.

  The worst part about making a deal with the devil was the lack of updated information. He’d heard nothing after his most recent call, and here it was, the end of the business day before the inauguration ceremony, and he still had no idea if things would take place as planned.

  It was unsettling to say the least.

  He tried to shake off the feeling of unease. His priority now was to meet up with the two idiots who’d failed him. Walking swiftly, he went to the Metro and swiped his card to get access to the train.

  Their meeting spot was a tavern located just a few stops from Capitol Hill. The train was packed as usual for this time of the day. Very irritating that he had to put up with traveling like this, as if he was some sort of commoner, but he didn’t dare take his car and driver. Too easy to be tailed that way.

  He glanced at his watch and smiled as the train rolled in exactly on time. He pushed through, uncaring if he elbowed passengers along the way. He ignored the dirty glances sent his way. The train left the station, slowly gaining speed.

  Soon, he’d have these loose ends taken care of.

  Difficult lesson to learn, but such was life. Only the strong survive.

  Which is the way it should be. He intended to be one of those who not only survived but thrived.

  And he didn’t care who he had to walk all over to do so.

  * * *

  January 19 – 5:42 p.m. – Washington, DC

  With the sat computer on his lap, Mack performed a quick search for Gerry’s Diner. Places like that often didn’t bother with a web presence, but thankfully most restaurant-type establishments showed up on a variety of search engines regardless.

  “Found it,” he said with satisfaction. “It’s closer to DC than to Baltimore, which is the good news.”

  “What’s the bad news?” Sun asked.

  “In this traffic, it’s going to take longer than I’d like.”

  “I’m not sure it’s worth going there anyway,” Sun said on a sigh. “It’s not likely anyone there is going to remember some Russian guy named Igor.”

  “I know.” Mack pulled out the phone Sun had taken from Dimitri. “I can try calling him, but the chances of him actually answering are slim to none.”

  “I was thinking about that,” Sun said, hit
ting the gas to get the SUV through a yellow traffic light. “I know you can find the cell tower closest to where the phone is located, but what about tracking down where the phone was purchased? Those two details together may help us find Igor.”

  “It can’t hurt.” Mack knew that smart people made sure to purchase their phones far from the locations where they intended to use it, but maybe Igor had picked up the phone, used it, and then headed out to meet Dimitri at the truck stop.

  He worked while Sun navigated the bumper-to-bumper traffic. Since he’d already hacked into the previous cell records, it didn’t take very long. “Okay, looks like he purchased the phone in East Riverdale. Hmm, what do you know, the truck stop is only about ten miles from there.”

  “Okay, now try to call him. If he answers, we should be able to triangulate his location using those two things as reference points.”

  He used the disposable phone, which he hoped meant Igor would answer, much like the guy in Capitol Hill had.

  “You shouldn’t use this number,” a guttural voice answered in curt Russian.

  “We have a problem, I need to meet you,” Mack said in his best Russian accent.

  “No meetings,” the Russian said.

  “At Gerry’s Diner, it’s important. There is another transport needed. Double the last fee,” he said in Russian.

  Mack found himself holding his breath, hoping and maybe even praying the guy on the other end of the phone was in fact Igor and would agree.

  “When?” Igor asked.

  He tried to estimate how long it would take them to get from this side of town out to the diner in this traffic. “Ninety minutes.”

  “Fine. Double the fee.” The call went dead.

  Mack let out a silent sigh. “I think I convinced Igor to meet us at Gerry’s Diner in ninety minutes.”

  “I heard.” Sun changed lanes, moving the SUV into a space that seemed almost too small for their SUV. “Means we need to get there in an hour or less.”

  “Yeah.” He dug into the cell tower information and pulled up the number. “Igor’s call pinged off a tower in Bladensburg.”

  “And there’s the third point in the triangle. That’s good work, Mack.” Sun flashed a grin. “Dimitri was more help than I’d anticipated.”

  “Yeah, if he hasn’t already warned Igor of what went down at his apartment.”

  “There’s a chance he may have, but I sense Dimitri isn’t smart enough to memorize the numbers on his disposable phone.”

  He glanced at Sun in surprise. “What makes you say that?”

  “The fact that he kept it in the first place, otherwise why didn’t he toss it in the garbage?”

  She had a good point. Mack looked over and saw that the bandage around her left wrist was covered with blood. “You’re bleeding.”

  “I know. I felt one of the stitches pop when I hit Dimitri’s wrist to get him to drop the gun.” She frowned. “Guy was built like a tank and didn’t go down easily.”

  Frankly, Mack was surprised she’d gotten him disarmed and down to the ground at all, considering she was about a quarter of Dimitri’s size.

  Swallowing the bitter taste of fear as he barreled through the apartment building to find her had been one of the hardest things he’d ever done.

  Yet Sun had surprised him once again. Not only had she not been shot, but she’d basically had Dimitri under control. He’d sparred with her enough to know she was good, but somehow she had taken her skills to the next level.

  Humbling to realize she might not need him nearly as much as he needed her.

  * * *

  January 19 – 5:56 p.m. – Somewhere over the Midwest

  Hana choked and sputtered on her apple juice when she saw a dark-haired man making his way up the main aisle of the plane toward the tiny restrooms.

  The North Korean?

  No, it couldn’t be. Unless he’d somehow tracked her via her clearly compromised identity? She put her hand on Jarek’s arm, tightening her grip until he looked at her. With wide eyes, she nodded toward the man whom she could only see from the back.

  Jarek frowned and stared at the man. She tightened her grip again and shook her head, indicating he shouldn’t try to draw the stranger’s gaze.

  Jarek shifted in his seat so he was partially facing her. “Do you know him?”

  “No, do you?” she whispered back. Maybe exhaustion was making her paranoid, but the fleeting glimpse had reminded her of the man she’d seen on the plane to Chicago.

  The man in the aisle slowly turned as if to face them.

  Hana quickly reached up and drew Jarek close for a long, intimate kiss.

  * * *

  January 19 – 6:38 p.m. – Washington, DC

  Sun’s phone rang as she finally reached the east side of the city. Hopefully, they could make up the time they’d lost while in traffic when she reached the highway.

  “Mack, will you answer this? It’s Jordan.”

  “Hey, Jordan,” Mack said, holding the phone so she could hear too. “Do you have more information for us?”

  “Yates finally got back to me on the Allan search. Sounds as if Karen Allan retired earlier this year, so that leaves us with Allan Stokes and Sean Allen.”

  Sun tried not to roll her eyes. “Any idea which one might have ties to something like a Russian bomb being sneaked into the city and being blamed on the North Koreans?”

  “Allan Stokes has only been with the department for six months,” Jordan said. “Sean has been working for us for almost ten years. If I had to pick a place to start, I’d go with the newbie. Could be he got this job just to help pull off something like this.”

  Sun glanced at Mack who shrugged and nodded. “I have to agree. Do you have any other identifying information on the guy? Like a date of birth or driver’s license number?”

  “Yates sent me personal information on both of these guys. Okay if I send it along via email?”

  Mack grinned. “You can just tell us, we’ll remember.”

  Jordan sighed. “Show off. Okay, Allan Stokes twenty-eight years old as of yesterday, lives outside of DC in a small town named Hyattsville.”

  “Wait a minute, Hyattsville? That’s not far from Bladensburg.”

  Sun tightened her grip on the steering wheel. “Which is where we believe Igor lives.”

  “Igor who?” Jordan asked.

  “Later,” Sun advised. “Give us the address.”

  Jordan rattled it off, and she committed the information to memory. “Listen, Jordan, things are heating up here. We have a lead on Igor, who is the last person we know of to take custody of the bomb. If we can connect Igor to Stokes, then we may have enough to pull an entire federal team into this thing.”

  “Okay, I can try, but I’ve learned the hard way to only trust Yates, and he’s not always easy to get ahold of. The guy is juggling a million different balls every minute of every day.”

  “Better than being betrayed by someone on the task force,” Sun pointed out.

  “Yes,” Jordan agreed. “But Yates will want hard-core evidence before going to the president to push off something as big as the inauguration.”

  “I know, and trust us, we’re trying to get that for you,” Sun said.

  “Our pal Dimitri admitted to bringing something in via his boat but claims he didn’t know the package was a bomb,” Mack added. “As much as I hate to admit it, the bomb itself is still nothing but rumor and innuendo.”

  “Do your best, but be careful, both of you.” Jordan’s voice was tense. “Just hearing the phrase nuclear bomb in the same sentence as presidential inauguration is likely to send the entire city into a tailspin of chaos.”

  “We’ll be careful,” Sun said.

  “And we’ll stay in touch. Thanks for the information, Jordan.” Mack put the phone in the cupholder between them. “I keep wondering if that’s the motive here.”

  Sun frowned. “What? To send the city into chaos?”

  Mack shrugged. “Why not?”
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  She thought about it for a moment, increasing her speed to stay with traffic as they cruised along the highway. “I don’t think so. We talked about this before, a rumor isn’t enough. Once the time of the inauguration passes without any sign of a bomb, things will very quickly get back to normal, and it will be as if nothing ever happened.”

  “You’re probably right,” Mack said, rubbing the back of his neck. “I guess there’s just a part of me that doesn’t want to think the goal is to take out the outgoing and incoming presidents and their respective vice presidents at the same time.”

  “Me either.” She glanced at her watch. “We may have time to cruise past Allan Stokes’s address before heading over to the diner.”

  “You know the traffic better than I do,” Mack said.

  It was a calculated risk. They’d be cutting it close if they wanted to get to the diner before Igor. Then again, if Igor was in actually in Bladensburg, he’d beat them regardless.

  Pulling up Stokes’s address in her mind, she headed in that direction. It wouldn’t take long to check the place out. It was unlikely Stokes would even be there if he used the Metro to commute back and forth to DC every day.

  Pressing on the gas, she picked up speed, passing several cars until seeing the exit sign for Hyattsville.

  “You sure about this?” Mack asked as she navigated the streets to yet another rundown apartment building. Low-rent properties were a common theme with the guys they were trying to find.

  “Yes, shouldn’t take long.” She parked along the street and slid out from behind the wheel. Mack joined her, and together they approached the apartment building.

  This time, after getting no response from the buzzer, they headed to the second floor where Stokes lived. Sun pressed her ear to the door but couldn’t hear anything.

  Mack checked the door handle. Locked. Then he pulled out his wallet and extracted a couple of slender tools. Sun hadn’t picked a lock in a long time, not since they’d challenged each other when they were kids to see who could pick faster.

 

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