Black Pawn (Michael Cailen Book 1) (25 page)

“What took you so long?  We were getting worried,”  Josh
asked as Michael got back in the truck.

“He was home.”

“What happened?” Martin asked.

“He's our guy,” Michael replied.  He briefed them on his
conversation with Rick and what he had learned.

“Why don't we use this guy to get the information we need
instead of hacking it?” Josh suggested.

“Because I don't trust him.  He's on the verge of a mental
breakdown.  He's unstable and he's scared.  There's no telling what he'll do.”

“What happens if you can't hack into the CIA?”  Martin
asked.

Michael sighed and ran his hand down his face.  “Then we may
end up having to use him.  But I'd like to avoid that at all costs.  It will be
a last resort only.”

“So, what now?  Head to Niko's?”  Martin turned to Michael.

Michael nodded.  “Let's stop and get some cell phones first
though.”

THEY ARRIVED
at Niko's shortly after 3:30 pm.  Martin
parked the truck in a small shopping plaza nearby.  All three men got out,
slipping their guns into their waistbands.  Josh shadowed Michael, staying
close by in case things got hairy.  Martin separated from them and crossed the
street.  He would keep an eye out from a distance to make sure they weren't
surprised once inside or followed once they left.

The club was on the corner of the street.  Since it didn't
open for a few more hours, Michael headed for the back door hoping it might be
open for deliveries and employees arriving to prep for the night.  He breezed
in to find himself in the kitchen.  A man wearing an apron stood chopping
onions.  With headphones on and facing away he never even noticed Michael come
in.  He walked to a door leading out of the kitchen, pushed it open and stepped
into the large, two-floor club.

The first floor was divided into two sections.  A smaller
restaurant style area with tables and chairs took up the side closest to the
kitchen and a massive dance floor took up the other.  A long sculpted bar
accessible from both sides, divided the two areas.

The second level was like an extension of the dance floor,
covering about half as much area as the first.  It sat above the restaurant and
the balcony looked over onto the dance floor.  A set of stairs ran down each
side along the walls.  It was dark, everything was shut off.

He stood in the middle of the dance floor and glanced
around.  Large dark-tinted windows lined the left wall above the stairs, likely
where the offices were located.  There must be a back stairway from the
kitchen.  He wondered if anyone was even there besides the unobservant cook. 
It didn't take long to get an answer.

A short, well-dressed young man with slicked back hair
stepped out of the kitchen.  “I'm sorry, the club is closed.  We open at
seven,” the man addressed Michael with an artificial smile.

“I know.  I was hoping I could speak with a manger,” he
replied.

“Ah. Well, if you tell me what it's regarding, I may be able
to help you.”

Michael noticed the man kept one hand in his pants pocket.

 “I need to get a message to Vlad Milovich.”

The man lost his calm demeanor, now appearing edgy and
nervous. 

“I'm sorry, I'm going to have to ask you to leave.”

“I guess you can't help me after all.  Is there someone here
who can?”

 Michael clearly had no intention of leaving.

The man stood there nervously until two very large men
appeared from the kitchen and stepped in front of him, allowing his retreat. 
He must have had a panic button in his pocket.

“I don't suppose
you
can deliver a message to Vlad,
can you?”  Michael smiled.

The men stepped towards him and he braced himself for a
fight.  When they got close, he sprung into action.  The men were unprepared
for the level of aggression Michael brought to the melee.  With lightning speed
Michael delivered a powerful blow to the first man's gut, knocking the wind out
of him.  As the man stumbled forward gasping for air Michael quickly took on
the second man who tried in vain to defend himself.  Michael dodged a few
punches before putting the man in a sleeper hold.  With him neutralized Michael
turned his attention back to the first man who had now recovered.  Soon, he too
was unconscious on the floor.

He quickly walked into the kitchen as two more men emerged
from a doorway covered with plastic strips.  The first man approached quickly. 
Michael grabbed a pan that was on the counter next to him and slammed it across
his face.  He fell into the counter, scattering some mixing bowls and pots,
then dropped to the floor unconscious.  The second man stepped back, putting a
little more space between him and Michael.  Michael took a step forward and the
other man retreated yet another step, clearly afraid of him.  Michael grinned. 
He rushed forward, taking him out before he could even react.

Tracing where the men came from, Michael found the stairs
leading up to the offices.  At the top was a large landing and a couple doors. 
He walked towards the far door that should belong to the office overlooking the
dance floor.  The door opened and a very large man emerged.   Another man
stepped out behind him, much older and dressed far better than the kid he had met
downstairs.

“Why so much violence?” the older man asked with that
familiar Russian accent.  He was calm and collected with a disarming smile on
his face.

“I need to get a message to Vlad.  He's going to want to hear
it,”  Michael responded.

“Let's say I know this Vlad person you speak of.  What would
you have me tell him?”

“Tell him I want to trade the flash drive for the girl.”

“And how is this Vlad supposed to contact you to work out
the details of this arrangement?”

“Easy, he just has to call me.”  Michael held out a piece of
paper with his number.  The bodyguard relieved him of it.

“Is this all you wanted?” the old man asked.

“Yeah.”  Michael slowly backed down the stairs, keeping his
eye on the bodyguard.

One of the men in the kitchen had started to wake up.  He
was leaning against a cupboard rubbing his head.  Seeing Michael coming, he
cowered, protecting his head with his arms as he walked by.  Michael ignored
him and exited out the back door where he encountered three men lying on the
ground.  He looked up and saw Josh standing there.

“I figured you didn't need any more company,” Josh
explained.

He had watched a black Mercedes park behind the building and
figured the three men for mafia thugs.  To spare Michael from having to deal
with them, Josh took them out before they could make it inside.

“Nice work,”  Michael replied as he looked at them.

Once they were sure they weren't being followed, Martin,
Josh and Michael regrouped at the truck.

“So, what now?” Josh asked.

“We wait for a call,”  Michael answered as Martin started
the engine and began to drive away.

“You have a plan?”  Martin asked.

“Sort of.”

“You know you can't meet with them,” Josh stated.  “If they
know where you'll be, they'll just make arrangements to kill you.”

“I think we're all working under the assumption they aren't
going to release Jessica under any circumstances, right?” Martin added.

Michael nodded.  “Yeah, but I have to make it look like I
believe they'll exchange her for the drive.  Otherwise they'll wonder why I'm
giving it to them.”

“So what are you thinking?” Josh asked.

“They'll suggest meeting to make the exchange.  I'll decline
the face to face citing my apprehension about their intent to kill me.  I'll
insist they release Jessica before I hand over the drive, to which they'll
refuse and insist I give them the drive first.  I will reluctantly agree which
will give them the opportunity to double cross me.  Then we just have to hope
they take it to Jessica to decrypt.”

“There's a lot of ways that could go wrong,”  Martin
observed.

“I know.”  Michael was tense.  “I don't see any other option
at this point.”

“What should we do while we wait for the call?” Josh asked.

“I don't know,”  Michael looked out the window.  Anxious and
worried, he tried not to think of what could go wrong.  The thought of losing
Jessica seemed unbearable.

They drove another half mile down the road when Michael's
phone rang.  His heart raced.  It was a private number.  He took a deep breath
and answered.  “Yeah.”

“Michael Cailen, I presume?”  The voice had a thick Russian
accent and seemed calm and almost cheerful.

“Correct. Who is this?”

“Vladimir Milovich.  My friends call me Vlad.  You may call
me sir.”

“Whatever you say, Vlad,”  Michael replied defiantly.

“You're a funny man, Cailen.  I would not have guessed you
had a sense of humor, especially considering your position.”

“Actually, I have you by the balls, not the other way
around.  Whatever is on this drive, I'm assuming can do a lot of damage to
you.  All I have to do is send this off to the right person in the CIA and I'm
guessing you'll be in a world of hurt.”  Michael didn't want to let on how much
Jessica meant to him.

“If the girl means so little to you, why bother trading?”

“She's innocent and I don't really care about you or your
operation.  I just want to be left alone.  You do that and let her go, and I'll
be out of your hair and you'll have the drive.”

“Fine, shall we decide on a place to meet?”

“No.  Forgive me if I don't trust you not to try and kill
me.  There will be no face to face meetings.  You let her go and once I know
she's safe, I'll give the courier the go-ahead to deliver the drive.”

Milovich laughed heartily. 

“Do you take me for a fool Mr. Cailen?”

“I'd say you're a fool if you don't agree.”

There was silence for a few seconds.  Michael wasn't sure
what to expect next.

“Okay.  How about this?  You tell me where you would like me
to send the girl and I will start sending her piece by piece until I get the
drive.” 

His tone was serious and Michael had no doubt he would do
just as he said.

“How do I know you won't just kill her after you have the
drive?” Michael asked.

“I have no interest in the girl.  Once I have the drive, she
will not be a threat to me.  If you want to fade off into the sunset after you
get her back, then you have my blessing.  I think it would be best for everyone
involved to put this behind us.”

Michael knew those were just words coming from Milovich.  He
would never let Jessica go, not while she was alive anyway.  But he had to play
along.

“I want to know that she's still alive.  Call me back in
twenty minutes.  Let me hear her voice and I'll tell you where to find the
drive.”

“Very well.  Twenty minutes,”  Milovich repeated.

Michael hung up the phone and looked out the window.

“Well?”  Martin asked.

Michael turned to him.  “So far so good.  Let's find a
hotel.”

They pulled into the parking lot at the Holiday Inn in
Georgetown.  Michael walked up to the girl at the counter and asked to borrow a
pen.  He wrote “Vlad Milovich” on the envelope containing the drive.

“I need to leave this for one of your guests.  He'll be
picking it up within the hour.”

“Certainly, sir,”  The woman smiled and graciously took the
envelope placing it under the counter.

“Thank you so much.”  He smiled and left.

Michael slipped back in the truck.  “All right, let's make
sure it's working.”

Josh grabbed the tracker and turned it on.  A few seconds
passed then a red dot appeared on the screen along with the distance and
direction of where the drive was in comparison to them.

“Looking good,”  Josh announced.

“Perfect.  Let's find some place to hang out until they come
for it,”  Michael suggested.

They parked on the street not far from the hotel so they
could keep an eye on cars coming and going from the parking lot.

Milovich should be calling any minute.  Michael's anxiety
spiked as he waited for the call.  Another two agonizing minutes passed before
his phone rang, again a private number.

“Yeah,”  he answered.

He heard someone in the background say “Speak.”

“Hello?”  It sounded like Jessica.

Michael stiffened.  “Jessica?”

“Michael?  Is that you?  I'm in a ware..”  The phone went
dead.

“Jessica!”  Michael yelled.  He looked at his phone.  They
had hung up.  A few seconds later it rang again.  “Jessica?!” he answered.

“I believe our arrangement was that you hear her voice and
then tell me where the drive is.”

Michael ran his hand through his hair, trying to calm
himself and regain his composure.  His heart pounding in his chest.  “It's at
the front desk of the Holiday Inn in Georgetown.”

“Very good.  Soon as I have it, I'll release the girl.”  He
hung up.

Michael put his phone on the dashboard.  He felt numb.  He
was trying not to think of what might be happening to Jessica or what could
happen to her.

“She's alive, Michael,” Josh tried to comfort him.

“Yeah.  She's alive,”  he repeated.  “For now.”  He stared
out the window.

Josh had never seen him this anxious.  Michael was always
the calm one.  He remained cool under pressure and never seemed to lose his edge. 
Now though, he seemed almost scared.

“Did she say anything?” Martin asked.

“I think she was trying to say she's in a warehouse before
the phone cut out.  And I think it's safe to say she's at a different location
than Milovich.  Otherwise why make two calls?”

Fifteen minutes of silenced passed while Martin, Josh and
Michael sat in the truck keeping an eye on the entrance of the Holiday Inn. 
Michael was tense, and that made everyone else tense.

“Heads up, guys,” Martin broke the silence as a black
Mercedes approached from behind.  He grabbed a map from the glove box and
unfolded it in front of him while Josh and Michael ducked in their seats as it
passed.

The car rolled past them and into the parking lot of the
Holiday Inn.  Someone got out on the passenger's side and darted into the
hotel.  A minute later, he emerged holding the envelope Michael had left at the
desk.  The car turned around and left the parking lot heading towards them.

Martin clumsily folded the map, intentionally obscuring the
view as the car passed.  Josh turned on the tracker while still lying on the
back seat and watched the dot move on the screen.  Once the car passed, Martin
tossed the map to Michael and started the truck.

“What's the range on that thing?” Michael asked.

“About two miles, give or take,”  Martin replied.

“Let's hope they don't board a plane,” Josh remarked.

“I'm not losing that drive no matter what,” Michael warned.

“Why doesn't this thing have GPS?  Seems like a rather crude
tracking mechanism,”  Josh complained, still lying down.

“It's all I could get last minute and in the middle of the
night.  Didn't exactly have time to shop around.”

“It'll do what we need.  Now, everyone just concentrate and
stay alert.”  Michael's patience was wearing thin.  “Don't get too close.  We
don't want to spook them.”

A traffic light ahead of them turned yellow.  The Mercedes
and two other cars went through before it turned red.

“Josh, how far?”  Michael's anxiety showed in his voice.

“Half mile, looks like they turned left up ahead.”

Michael tapped his heel on the floor as he stared at the
light.  He was ready to jump out of his skin when the light changed and they
started to move again.  Michael looked at the map while Josh continued to give
out direction and distance.  The distance between them had gone to over a mile,
but they were quickly closing the gap.  Soon it was back to a half mile, and
they had a pretty good idea of where the car was.

“They're getting close to the highway,” Michael observed.

“Ahhh.  I think they're getting on the highway!” Josh
announced nervously.  “They're pulling away fast!”

Martin picked up the pace.  They were almost at the on ramp
when they hit another red light.  Michael was ready to lose his mind.

“Guys, we're gonna lose them!” Josh yelled.  “One and three
quarter miles away!”

“Just go!”  Michael shouted.

Martin glanced in his rear view mirror at what looked like
an unmarked police car.  He was torn between not wanting to lose the tracker
and not wanting to attract attention from law enforcement.  They couldn't
afford a police chase and he decided not to risk it.  Michael envisioned
himself throwing Martin from the truck and driving himself.

The light turned green and traffic started to move again.  A
few seconds later, they were on the highway.  Martin hit the gas, trying to
make up lost time.

“Josh, where are they?” Michael asked.  Josh was silent.
“Josh!”  Michael turned around.

Josh wasn't watching the tracker and he looked like he was
going to be sick.

“Josh?”  Michael's heart sank.

“We lost them.”  Josh swallowed hard.  He looked down at the
dead screen in front of him.

“No. Josh, don't lose it on me now.  Are we heading in the
right direction?”

Josh nodded.  “They were heading this way when we lost
signal.”

Martin had the pedal to the metal, hoping to catch up to
them.

Michael was trying to keep it together.  Flipping out
wouldn't solve anything.  “Josh, just keep an eye on the tracker for even a
faint signal, okay?”

Josh seemed to come around.  He sat up with renewed
enthusiasm watching for any blip on the tracker.

Michael turned back around in his seat and watched the
road.  He didn't say anything to Martin.  Right then, he was so angry he
would've only raged at him for losing the signal.  It took every ounce of self-control
he had to keep from doing just that.

As Martin sped down the highway it started to seem
hopeless.  They could have pulled off, gone in a different direction.

“I got something!” Josh nearly screamed from the backseat. 
He probably would've jumped had there been enough room.  “Two miles ahead. 
Looks like they've slowed down.  Must have gotten off.”

“Next exit is two miles,”  Martin informed them.  “Probably
got off there.”

Michael sat back in his seat and closed his eyes while he
took a few long deep breaths.  The stress and anxiety were almost
overwhelming.  He focused back on the road.

“Looks like they're heading east now.  We might lose them
again.”

“The exit is right here,” Martin said.  “We won't lose
them.”

They weaved their way through traffic heading towards the dot
on the tracker.  They were closing the gap again.

“This looks familiar,”  Michael remarked.

“Yeah, it does,”  Martin agreed.

Josh looked up to see what they were talking about. “Oh hey,
we're right near the club!”  He looked back at the tracker.  “And it looks like
they've stopped.”

They parked within fifty feet of the tracker and all stared
at Niko's nightclub where they had just come from.

“Well, this was exciting,” Josh said facetiously.

All three men were a bundle of nerves.  Jessica's life was
riding on this being a successful operation.

“You think she's in there?” Martin asked.

“No.  I'm pretty sure she was trying to say she was in a
warehouse.  Besides, I doubt they'd use some place so public.  They're probably
just trying to figure out what to do with it.”  Michael leaned back and ran his
hand  up his face and through his hair.