Out of the Dark (19 page)

CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE

Moscow

Tony
Archuletta took a chair at the small diner and ordered a cup of coffee. Blowing into his fists, and huddling deeper into his coat, he waited for the drink to arrive. When the waitress placed the cup on the table he grasped the hot brew with both hands.

Seeing his
frosted breath, Tony murmured, “Damn, this place feels like a meat locker.”

The tiny, corner coffee shop reminded Tony of an over- cr
owded diner from the old TV show, ‘Happy Days’. At the counter, customer’s fat asses hung over the sides of their little, round stools where patrons sat elbow to elbow.

On the other side of the room,
red plastic booths lined a grimy window the size of a wall. The view was nice, but Tony surmised the gaps around the panes probably added to the freezing temperature inside.

He’d carefully selected a
small table in the middle aisle, but now, every time the waitress walked by, her hip bumped his arm, but it gave him a great vantage point.

Watching the steam
rise from his coffee cup, Tony noticed the pattern on the plastic tablecloth no longer resembled anything, due to age and frequent cleaning. In the middle of the table sat a wire tray with sugar packets, salt, pepper shakers and napkins.

Restless, Tony shifted his tall frame and watched the door. Unfortun
ately, he sat in a vinyl-covered chair as ugly as it was uncomfortable. The waitress with a grease-stained apron stretched across her broad belly and fingernails crusted with dirt, asked if he wanted to order breakfast.

Not in this lifetime.

Tony shook his head, and stared into the black coffee. It looked strong enough to sharpen a knife. He picked up the small tin of cream and poured.

At second thought, the stench of boiled cabbage, unwashed bodies and burnt coffee had Tony shoving his cup and the creamer to the center of the table. He refused to punish his stomach with that crap.

When the door opened, Tony watched Nicholas Belskavia enter the diner and walk between the tables and booths to join him. Inwardly Tony smiled. He and Nicholas had never had a real run-in. Shrewdly, they’d always managed to tip-toe around each other in a diplomatic way. Both avoided a confrontation that stood a good chance of only one of them surviving.

While Tony could tolerate Belskavia, he
’d hated the Russian Mac had shot in Emily’s hotel room. Lev Stanislaw had been one messed up psycho. Scary and into torture, brutally corrupt, he took too much pleasure in killing. Rumor had it he’d murdered both parents and his brother. All over a bottle of beer, and a cheap hooker.

Nicholas sat down with a grunt.

Tony smiled.

The o
lder Russian reminded Tony of a retired boxer going bald. His nose covered the center of his face, his slack jaw and dirty teeth, along with a drooping eyelid made him the ugliest man Tony knew.

Poor Nicholas, he had been KGB all his life, and when Russia changed to the Federal Security Service, Nicholas couldn’t adapt, didn’t fit in, and had fi
nally decided to go rogue. According to certain sources, he’d made a good career move.

Snapping his fingers in the air, Nicholas aske
d for coffee in Russian before removing his jacket. Slinging it over the back of the chair, he pulled a pack of cigarettes from his shirt pocket, just as the waitress put the coffee down. Nicholas lit up. Pulling a strong drag from the cigarette, he blew out the smoke then took a sip.

Since Nicholas
had set the time and place, Tony figured the offending filth and foul odors didn’t faze the Russian.

After a few more loud slurps, Nicholas
flipped the ashes of his cigarette into the ashtray, and asked, “What you want, Archuletta?”

After straightening the front of his Valentino jacket, Tony leaned back and propped his ankle on his knee. “I have some information I think you might find useful.”

“I don’t know what you are talking about. You and I don’t have anything to discuss.”

They both knew better the
n to bring up the incident from two years ago. Tony had desperately needed an alibi to cover taking out a target, and of all people, Nicholas walked in and said that they’d been playing poker together with several of his Russian friends. Later, Tony learned Nicholas had wanted the target eliminated more than the US.

“You’re right, we don’t and never will, but information is a good thing to have.”

“Okay, so what you got?” Nicholas sounded like a gangster from New Jersey.

Tony folded his arms
on the table. “Word on the street says Ramón Marino and you conducted a little business a few days ago.”

“I don’t know anything about that.” Nicholas took another deep drag.

“Where is Lev?”

Nicholas’s face turned red and he puffed out his chest. “When I get my hands on the shithead that killed him, I will tear off his legs.”

“Ouch, that sounds so gruesome, Nicholas. Why not a bullet between the eyes? Much neater.”

He knew that
remark would wiggle the Russian’s memory about the target Tony took out.

Nich
olas batted that thought away. “Nyet! I want him to suffer.”

“Good luck with catching the guy. But why did Lev go after the girl?”

“I don’t know what you are talking about.”

“Word has it you might have overheard her saying something about pictures she’d taken.”

Nicholas scooted his chair back. “Our business is finished. I have done nothing wrong.”

“Really? Since when is selling illegal weapons not against
International law?”

After a careful look around, Nicholas leaned closer.  “I don’t know what you are talking about.”

Reaching inside his jacket pocket, Tony pulled out the pictures Mac had scanned him then spread them on the table. “Look familiar?”

Nicholas reared back from the photos as if to distance himself from the obvious. “I was just out for a walk that night. I did nothing
wrong.”

“And this?” He showed him the picture of Marino passing him the briefcase.

Nicholas shrugged.

“You know this guy?” He showed him a picture of Bruno.

“Never seen him in my life.”

“You’re a liar. But let’s not wo
rry about him right now, okay?”

“What do you want,
Archuletta? Do not play with me or they will find your body floating in the Moskva River, face down.”

Tony clutched his arms. “
Brr.” He faked a shiver. “It’s so cold.”

“Cut the shit.”

“I have to assume there was money in that briefcase Marino gave you. Probably a lot of money.”

Nicholas remained stoic.

“My question, Nicholas, is have you tried to spend any of that money?”

“Only you are assuming Marino gave me money. Money for what?”

“I think you sold him something he could unleash on the United States. So, if you did, these pictures are pretty incriminating.”

“They prove nothing. Nothing I say.”

“Until something happens. Then these pictures will lead right back to you. Now, Nicholas, the way I see it, you sold Marino bio weapons so he could detonate a bomb on American soil. If that happens, you won’t need to worry about proof. Frank Hamilton will send every Falcon agent he has at his disposal to hunt your ass down. And when we catch you, ripping your legs off is the least we’ll do.”

Tony pushed back his chair
and stood. As he walked toward the door, Nicholas grabbed his arm. “What has money got to do with this? You asked if I’d spent any. What did you mean?”

Tony
paused and looked down at Nicholas. “I should let you find out on your own, you dumb shit.”

“Find out what?”

“If Marino paid you in American dollars, they’re probably counterfeit.” He waited a moment for that to soak in. The widening of Nicholas’s eyes revealed his horror.

“Counterfeit? He is a fucking drug dealer.”

“A drug dealer who recently learned how lucrative making phony money can be.”

“You are shitting me. He not
got that kind of balls to play me like that.”

“Check it out, and when you do,
I have the perfect way for you to get even.”

Nicholas stood and jerked on his coat. “I’ll get that fucker.”

Tony handed him a card. “I’m gone in eight hours. Once I leave Moscow, I can’t help you.”

***

Mac stilled as the barrel of a weapon pressed against the back of his head. He looked at Brody who had the guy in his crosshairs. In one swift move, Mac spun, knocked the weapon out of the thug’s hand th
en finished with a right hook to the jaw. The guy hit the floor, and he wasn’t getting up anytime soon.

Jake and
A.J. busted through the downstairs door. Mac let them know everything was okay. They rounded up the gang of thugs and headed for Falcon’s office in Dallas.

Before leaving, Mac decided to check on Em. The phone rang twice before she answered.

“Is everything okay?” he asked.

“Yes, I just stepped out of the tub.”

Mac’s imagination went from a life and death struggle to images of Em’s naked body in record time. He enjoyed the thought of her sleeping in his bed, her touch making an imprint on everything in his apartment. He swallowed, “Why don’t you get some sleep? I’m going to be awhile.”

“Mac, did you get the bad guys?”

Her voice sounded soft, inviting, and real after what he and Brody had been through. For the first time in his career, Mac wanted to go home. Let someone else deal with the bad guys. He only wanted to curl up and make love to Em. “Yeah, they’re on their way downtown. As soon as I finish, I’ll be home.

“Are you still mad at me for telling my sister?”

“No, I don’t have a family, but I can understand your need to protect them.”

“I’ve been with you all this ti
me. I didn’t know you didn’t have a family.” Em said, slamming a fist into his soft spot. “Your parents are dead? How horrible.”

“It all happened when I was a kid, so I’ve gotten used to the fact that it’s only me.”

Silence followed by a deep sigh. “Mac, everyone needs a family. Weren’t you even adopted?”

“Naw, I got dumped into the foster care system. When I turned
fourteen I took off. Lived on the streets for a while until I joined the Navy.”

“That’s so sad.”

“That’s reality.” He paused unable to continue. He’d already told her more than any other woman. “I gotta go. Sleep tight.”

CHAPTER TWENTY-TWO

Mac brought Bruno back to Falcon’s interrogation room. Frank followed. After shoving their prisoner into a chair, Mac handcuffed him to the table and they stepped into the hall out of Bruno’s earshot.

“Easy as hell to get him,” Mac said with a hint of uncertainty. “I kept thinking we’re walking into a trap or something.” Mac shru
gged. “Nothing happened. We threw him in the back of his own car and drove him here.”

Brows furrowed, Frank shook his head. “That’s not like Bruno?”

“I’ll say. Did you hear from Tony?”

“He baited the trap.”

Mac grunted, “Bet the Russian bites.”

Frank shook his head. “Tony could talk a nun out of her habit in one minute flat.”

“Let’s go inside and talk to the man who blew up Em’s house.”

Frank opened the door then followed behind Mac. They leaned against the wall. “Bruno, imagine our surprise when w
e found you right under our noses.” Frank pulled out a chair on the opposite side and sat. “You probably aren’t in a talking mood, are you?”

Beads of sweat bulleted Bruno’s brow. His hands gripped the edge of the table so tightly his knuckles showed white
, as his black eyes darted around like a cue ball searching for a pocket.

“Not really,” Bruno muttered.

“That’s too bad, because before the night is over we’ll get what we want.” Mac casually examined his fingernails. “Your decision is how we go about it.”

Marino’s henchman looked up. “It’s simple. I came here to carry out Marino’s orders. You guys know that. I do what I’m told.”

“He tell you to kill Emily Richards?” Frank asked.

Sadly, His
Bruno nodded his head. “Sí, he did.”

“Because he wanted to destroy the pictures?”

“Sí.”

Mac tossed the photos on the table. “These?”

His head moved slowly as Bruno looked at the snapshots. “I guess. I wasn’t there when these were taken. I only know Marino didn’t want anyone to see him with the Wholesaler.”

“What do you know about that?”

Shrugging, Bruno looked away. “Not much.” Turning back, he nodded to Mac. “You know he keeps everything to himself. He don’t confide in nobody.”

Pushing away from the wall, Mac said, “Yeah, but you’ve lasted longer than anyone. You do that by being one step ahead of your boss?” Mac leaned down and placed his palms on the steel table. “Marino might not tell you what he’s doing, but you know a lot more than you let on.”

Bruno shifted and cleared his throat. “I know he is a monster.”

“We wa
nt to know what he bought from The Wholesaler?”

Bruno shrugged then looked at Mac. “Drugs and weapons. They are the way Marino makes money. But his real crime is against God.”

“What are you talking about?”

Bruno bowed his head and held his silence.

“Why didn’t he take you to meet with the Wholesaler?”

“My job was to take
you
out, McKinsey.” Bruno snarled. “Marino did not tell me he was going to meet the Russian until afterward.”

“So, you flew to and from Moscow with Marino?”

“Sí, but Angel Diaz went with him to make the exchange. I was sent to kill you.”

“Who is this Diaz
?”

Snarling,
Bruno glanced away. “Probably my replacement.”

“What about
Miss Richards? Why would you kill an innocent woman?”

“Marino is convinced she is a spy. Sent by Falcon to rescue you.”

“Your boss is wrong. She knows nothing. She’s just a lawyer.”

“Marino did no
t know that. But if she is innocent, why did she take pictures of the transaction?”

“She was just testing a prototype for a friend who invented a small camera.”

“Does she not know how dangerous that is? To take pictures of Marino making a deal?”

Mac shook his head. “You don’t get it. She’s just a... lawyer.”

“But she has the proof.”

“Really? She just had a
bunch of pictures until you goons turned it into a fucking war.

“But you met up with her.”

“No I didn’t. All I needed was a ride out of Russia.”

Bruno looked down. Did it bother him that his boss had
sent him to kill a woman who’d done nothing to intentionally harm Marino’s operation? Mac doubted that. Bruno was as calloused as his boss. They’d wallowed in the same blood and destruction for years.

“If you think Diaz
is your replacement then you have nothing to lose by giving Marino up. There probably isn’t much left for you after you botched killing me and Miss Richards.” Mac looked at his watch then Bruno. “And the clock is ticking.”

“I know what you want
, but I have a family. They are all that matters to me.”

Pushing away from the wall, Frank said,
“We can protect your family, Bruno. I give my word.” Frank leaned closer. “We can get them out of the country and settled in a place where they’ll never be found. And we can do it in less than twenty-four hours.”

Bruno slumped back in his chair, his eyes downcast on the table. He was a big man, younger than he looked, older in many ways than someone twice his age. He’d never married. Mac figured he’d avoided the altar because Marino knew how to use a man’s weaknesses against him. He knew how to make a man sweat, and control him to the point he’d do anything Marino ordered.

“Bruno,” Mac said. “You were there the day Angelina was shot. Who pulled the trigger? You and I know it wasn’t me, or any other Falcon agent.”

“I was
there that day,” The hard lines in Bruno’s face softened.

“Why was she shot when we went to make the exchange?” Mac banged his fist against the metal table. “It could have all been so simple.”

Bruno shook his head slowly and bowed. “No, it had to be.”

“What do you mean?”

“Marino was convinced you seduced his sister and she was no longer a virgin. He gave the signal for her to be killed. He no longer wanted her.”

“But she was his sister.” Mac ran his fingers through his h
air. “Damn, she was so young. How could he?”

“You don’t understand do you, McKinsey?”

“What’s to understand? She was his flesh and blood.” It angered Mac that Marino would kill his only sibling when Mac had no one.

“He loved her in an unnatural way,” Bruno said. “She was his bride.”

Frank touched his stomach. “I think I’m getting sick.”

“Bride?”

“Sí, when she was thirteen he paid a priest to marry them. He’d planned to bring her home in the summer and they would live together as husband and wife.”

Mac narrowed his eyes in disbelief. “His sister?”

“Aw, shit,” Frank said.

“Angelina did not love him that way. She wanted to stay in the nunnery. Even the priest forbade her to go
home. They found the padre dead. Hung on the wall like the Holy Christ.”

Mac closed his eyes and squeezed the bridge of his nose. He couldn’t comprehend any of this. “So,
he thought I’d touched Angelina, or his bride. And for that he’s been hunting me for years?”

“
Sí.”

Mac glared at Bru
no. “No one touched that girl. I stayed with her twenty-four-seven. I kept her safe.” Mac shook his head. “He killed her in cold blood.”

“That is why he keeps killing the young girls of his country. He rapes, tortures, and mutilates.” Bruno’s mouth turned down. “Then he murders them, and tosses their young bodies into the garbage like rotted food.”

“Bruno, you have to help us stop this.”

The Columbian looked up and Mac knew he was looking into the eyes of a man with little time left. “I think we are too late.”

“You’re smart, Bruno. No man lasts as long as you have without a few tricks up his sleeve.”

Bruno leaned his head back and closed his eyes. “I have a little money set aside, a place to go, and a few passports. But I also have a family. Anything I do to help you, my family will pay for.”

“I meant what I said about protecting them, Bruno,” Frank reminded.

Bruno looked like he considered the offer before he glanced at Mac. “When Marino finds out that I didn’t kill you, my life is over, anyway.”

“But we can save your family.” Mac offered.

Bruno looked at Mac. “It is not my family you should be concerned about. I left a man at the
girl’s house to wait for the bodies to be removed after the bomb exploded. This way we’d know the job was done.”

Mac’s breath caught in his throat. “So when
two body bags aren’t carried from the house, the gig is up for you?”

Brody burst into the room, snatched up the TV remote and clicked
on the television. “You won’t f-ing believe this!”

Em’s sister, Victoria, stood in the middle of the screen explaining that Em wasn’t in the house when it exploded. She was at a friend’s place in Bedford.

Mac dropped to his knees.