Divide & Conquer (7 page)

As half the gang ran away, the other half stood their ground. One reached for a pistol he had tucked in his trousers. Before he could bring it to bear, Sean sent over another bullet and removed it from the gang member’s hand. He was not as fortunate as his colleagues. As the gun exited his hand, a snap signaled his trigger finger would not be pulling triggers anytime soon.

The rest of the gang fled.

Sean climbed into the Mustang and placed the two handguns on the passenger seat, one Glock and one Jimenez Arms. He wasn’t familiar with the make but it felt light and very cheap. The Glock certainly worked and Sean had the gang to thank for the impromptu test firing. It was always good to know your weapon worked before you really needed to know if your weapon worked. Weapons were not hard to get a hold of. You just needed to know who to go to. Pimps were weaker and far less trigger happy than drug dealers. As for the shattered nose, Sean hadn’t met a pimp who didn’t prey on the weak and less fortunate in society; it was the least he probably deserved.

Chapter 12

SVR Headquarters
Moscow

Mikhail paced nervously outside the Director’s office. He had already been in the office for hours. His wife had kicked him out of bed at 4.00 a.m. due to his tossing and turning and inability to sleep.

He had spent the last few hours going through old records in an attempt to understand what was going on but there was nothing. At least nothing he was allowed to see without further approval; something he didn’t know was possible. He had access to everything the Science Department had ever been involved in, or so he had thought. One file was inaccessible, the Grebnevo file. No other detail was available. The file was simply labeled Grebnevo. Mikhail had tried an Internet search, inputting the name; nothing showed up other than it was the name of a derelict estate just outside of Moscow. Shortly after his search, Mikhail’s computer stopped working.

“Come in!” The Director’s voice boomed through the door. His assistant didn’t come in before eight.

Mikhail puffed out his chest and stood to his full five foot seven as he walked into the Director’s office. Mikhail shrunk an inch as the imposing figure of General Yuri Borodin stood up to greet him. He was Director of the GRU, Russia’s Military Intelligence Directorate. His own Director sat motionless behind his desk, leaving Mikhail alone to face Borodin. Borodin took Mikhail’s hand and shook it before guiding him to one of the two seats in front of the SVR Director’s desk.

Mikhail sat and surreptitiously wiped the sweat from his hand. He could do nothing about the sweat forming on his brow. He just had to hope the two most powerful Intelligence tsars in Russia did not notice. Mikhail was a scientist. Politics and power games were most definitely beyond him and if he had ever harbored any doubt, the speed at which his heart was currently racing proved it categorically.

“I believe you needed to speak to me urgently?” offered the SVR Director.

Mikhail glanced at Borodin before answering. As far as he was aware, although they both worked for Mother Russia, the two tsars were constantly fighting over resource and territory. Discussing confidential SVR business in the GRU Director’s presence was not only unorthodox but unheard of.

Borodin leaned over and slapped Mikhail’s knee. “It’s OK, young man, you can discuss this in front of me. I know all about Sean Fox!”

Mikhail breathed a sigh of relief and began to relay the telephone conversations he had received the previous day, informing him that Sean Fox was alive and in America.

“Obviously,” he concluded. “There has been a miscommunication as I don’t know why my department would be involved with this Sean Fox.”

“And that’s exactly why I’m here. There was a mistake. You should not have been informed. Sean Fox is an agent of ours whom we had presumed dead. Part of a joint KGB/GRU project in the past. I believe the agent in the US who contacted you yesterday with the information had historic contacts at KGB and GRU. He contacted the modern day equivalents, assuming you would be involved. However, this is old news and we need no longer worry about it.”

Smiles broke out throughout the meeting as all came to the silent agreement. Mikhail would forget the name Sean Fox ever existed.

A brief knock at the door preceded the door being opened without pause. Mikhail thought this rude as he watched the First Deputy Director of the SVR cross the office and hand a note directly to his boss, the SVR Director.

The smile instantly drained from the Director’s face, as did every drop of color. A nod towards Borodin indicated he should see the message too. Borodin’s smile and color also disappeared as he too read the note.

Mikhail began to shift awkwardly, wondering why the note was causing such a dramatic reaction. Were they at war? Had the President been assassinated? The First Deputy Director left without showing Mikhail the note.

“Is there anything else, Mikhail?” asked his Director, as the door closed behind the First Deputy Director.

Mikhail stood up, assuming he had been dismissed.

“Is there anything you’ve not told us?” clarified his boss.

Mikhail sat back down and realized he had not told them about his conversation with Agent Pyotr Travkin. As he relayed the conversation, General Borodin stood up and began to pace around the large office. Mikhail became increasingly nervous as the massive General appeared to become more and more agitated the longer Mikhail spoke. On more than a few occasions, the General’s guttural throat clearing interrupted Mikhail’s flow. Borodin was clearly not happy.

The SVR Director looked at Borodin as Mikhail ended with the revelation that he had changed the agents’ orders. The look on the General’s face was not conducive to continuing the meeting.

“That will be all Mikhail!” ordered the SVR Director.

“But…” Mikhail wished to explain his actions.

“Out!” boomed Borodin, clearly unable to contain his anger any longer.

As the door closed behind Mikhail, Borodin sat back down.

“So, what should we do?” asked the SVR Director.

“We will do nothing. I will sort out this mess,” replied Borodin leaving no room for discussion.

“Mikhail?” asked the SVR Director.

“Find out exactly what he knows about Grebnevo,” instructed Borodin, looking again at the note in his hand. “Before you kill him.”

Chapter 13

Sean swung by the airport and solved two other issues on the way back to the house. The bright yellow Mustang was swapped for a less conspicuous Toyota Corolla and a prepaid cell phone was acquired for a frustrating $20. Twenty bucks that could have meant the difference between life and death for the boy.

Sean entered the lakeside estate for only the second time in his life. He listened carefully as the top of the hour news kicked off. The top story, again, was a local zoning issue. No Amber Alert had been issued. It had been almost five hours since the abduction and it seemed nobody, other than Sean, was looking for the boy. None of it bode well. Even when he was alone in Afghanistan, he knew the military were at least looking for his kidnap victims, not actively but they were certainly on the radar. Sean considered calling Black again. The boy deserved more; this was America for God’s sake! Sean was comparing the situation to Afghanistan and Afghanistan was looking more positive.

Sean picked up the cell and stopped himself short of calling. One drive-by, he thought. No point calling until he knew what they were up against. As he entered the street, the main question that had been racing through his head was answered. Why had nobody reported the kidnap and shooting? Simple, other than the target’s house at the end of the street, the rest of the houses were in darkness. All were unoccupied, either unfinished or probably brand new. Victims of the downturn and unaffordable.

Sean stopped the car before entering the street. With no other occupants and being at the back of the estate, drive-byes were going to be few and far between. No point in advertising his arrival, particularly after such a warm welcome earlier in the day. Sean stepped out of the air conditioned Corolla and gasped at the warmth still in the air. Why the hell people wanted to live here, he had no idea; it must have been almost 90 degrees and it was after nine at night. Sean tucked the Glock and the Jimenez pistol into his belt and quietly closed the car door. A small path cut behind the nearest house and, if the Sat Nav were right, it led to the lakeside. As he neared the lake, he slipped the Jimenez out of his belt and threw it as far as possible into the lake. It really was a piece of junk and would be rust by dawn. The Glock, on the other hand, was an entirely different prospect and he patted it, taking comfort from the hard angular edges digging into his skin.

Sean eased himself over the wall into the target property and crouched low against the wall. The garden offered little cover. A large expanse of grass gave way to an oversized pool, no shrubs or bushes to assist Sean, just a vast open expanse of garden. Fortunately, security lighting, like all the other properties he had passed, appeared to be exclusively for the front of the house. Apparently in Laredo, burglars didn’t use the back door. Sean edged forward and was suddenly assaulted by a wave of light. Sean threw himself over the wall and tucked himself tight in against it. Apparently in Laredo, the security lights out front were for show and the ones at the rear were triggered by motion sensors. Sean kicked himself for being so stupid but in Afghanistan, his enemies were lucky to have batteries for their torches, never mind multi million watt security lighting systems.

After a number of loud Spanish conversations, the lights shut down and darkness was restored. The two watchers had obviously concluded it was a wild animal that had triggered the lights, neither it seemed, was keen to explore further than the back deck, which suited Sean perfectly. It did, however, leave him with somewhat of a dilemma; how the hell was he going to find out anything from the wrong side of the garden wall?

Sean remained seated, his back to the wall. From what he had seen of the back garden, there was no possibility of getting anywhere near the house undetected and going by the earlier propensity for shooting, that included doing so alive. The rear wasn’t an option which left the sides and front of the house. Sean took a peak over the wall. The wall to the side of the house was still a good distance and he had to assume was afforded the same protection as the rear. So the rear and sides were out. He’d trigger the lights almost as soon as he’d set foot in the garden. That left the front, in its permanent state of daylight but that, in itself, had one major advantage. It wouldn’t react to Sean’s presence.

***

Katie Fox flinched as the lights exploded at the rear of the house. Her nerves couldn’t take much more. They had her baby and she knew they would kill him without a second thought. She began to shake involuntarily. The rear lights were set to react to only very large mammals. Her husband had got fed up with them bursting on and off throughout the night and had set them to their least sensitive mode. If the lights had come on, somebody was out there, not something, and that somebody was going to get her baby killed.

Her watchers grabbed their guns and rushed out of the back door, both screaming at each other. If it were the police or somebody coming to the rescue, they were going to be easy targets, but after a few minutes, the watchers returned. Katie spoke Spanish fluently and realized they thought the lights had been triggered by a raccoon or a coyote.

Katie looked at the photo of her baby. He was all she had left in the world. No other family, it was just her and James against the world. Up until three months earlier, life had been perfect in their own little world. Sean, James and she had been so happy. Then the parcel arrived, the memory of which would live with her until her last breath. A week later, right after the funeral, the watchers had arrived and she had been living under their gaze ever since. She hadn’t even had a chance to grieve properly; the men allowed her no time alone. Even at night her bedroom door had to remain open, while one was stationed at the door. James had slept beside her since Sean had died and that night was the first either of them would be alone. The tears started to flow as she thought of James, frightened and alone. He was just a baby, in a strange place, surrounded by people he didn’t know.

As the doorbell chimed, she automatically looked at the clock, 9.30 p.m. Nobody she knew would come to the house at that time of night.

“Quién es?” asked Miguel, the older of the watchers.

Katie could do nothing but shrug her shoulders, panic had already sunk in. The thought of anybody interfering and causing her son to be killed consumed her.

“Get rid of them!” he ordered, pulling her from her seat and handing her a handkerchief as he led her to the door.

Hector appeared from the back of the house and gave the all-clear sign. Whatever was happening was all at the front. Miguel waved him out of the hallway and back into the living room, out of sight of the door. Miguel took up station on the wrong side of the door. As she unlocked the latch, Miguel pointed his gun at her and put his finger to his lips. The message was loud and clear, say nothing of him or Hector.

Katie opened the door slowly, trying desperately to recapture at least some composure. She knew her son’s life depended on how she reacted to whatever was behind the door.

***

Sean had thought long and hard about exactly how to handle the situation before coming up with his plan. He pressed the buzzer and waited. The Glock sat comfortably in his hand as he waited for the door to open. Eventually he heard footsteps, two sets coming towards the door. Thank God for hardwood floors he thought, preparing himself for the door to open.

Chapter 14

Pyotr’s cell barely rang before he answered the call he had been impatiently expecting. “Sir!” he answered mustering as much deference as possible, given his somewhat irritable mood. The motel they had checked into was a dump but was the closest to their target they had found.

“My name is General Borodin…” came the extremely unexpected response. The booming voice forced Pyotr to remove the cell from his ear and negated the need to keep his partner, Alexa, up to date on the changing situation.