Chapter Ten
Something Stinks, and It’s Not Fish
Sawyer returned laterthat evening with the few groceries I had sent him out nine hours earlier to get. He said nothing as he placed the bags on the counter and began to unload them.
“It’s been nine hours since you left, I tried to call you, and it went to voicemail. Where the hell have you been?”
My best friend acted like everything was normal, placing items from the bags into the refrigerator. “I got a call and had to go to the office. Why are you mad?”
“I’m mad because your asinine decision put your sister in danger, and it seems you have a secret you are not sharing with me.”
Sawyer stopped midway as he reached into the plastic bag to retrieve the container of spinach. His brows drew together, and he tilted his head. “What are you talking about? I’ve got no secrets.” Then he turned his back to me and placed the vegetable in the drawer at the bottom of the icebox as if it were a typical day.
I waited until he turned to retrieve another item from the bag making sure we’d be face to face. “If that’s the case, tell me what Smoke and Fire is, and don’t say you have no idea because I’m calling bullshit on that.” I saw the recognition in his eyes when I said Smoke and Fire. He knew what it was, and there would be no hiding it from me. I wasn’t going to let it go.
Sawyer continued to unload items into the refrigerator until the bags were empty. Once the door was closed, he motioned for me to follow him. Once we were alone outside, I asked the question again. “What’s Smoke and Fire?”
“It’s a nerve gas called HCNGB, a blended combination of Sarin gas and Zyklon B. Mixing both those chemicals together makes the concoction extremely dangerous. Once inhaled, it can kill a person who weighs 150 pounds in less than two minutes. It’s clear, odorless, and tasteless. So, it can be released, and no one will know it exists until people start dropping like flies. As fast as it’s released into the air, it disappears. Only an autopsy would confirm what killed the person.”
“Why not tell me, Sawyer? You sent me to Russia under the guise of killing a double agent, but my mission clearly had a dual purpose.”
“The envelope you brought me, Max, had the date and time of the transportation of the sample gas. Once tested and successful, the Russians will start mass production, and I need to stop that transport and get my hands on that canister.”
I stepped closer to my best friend and pressed my finger into his chest. “Yet, you chose not to tell me. You sent me after something that could have gotten me killed, and you didn’t fucking tell me.” Turning my back on Sawyer, I began to walk away; stopping a few feet closer to the door, I looked over my shoulder. “Find someone else to clean up your mess. I’ll protect Evie because she didn’t deserve to be collateral damage, and you can bet your life, I’m going to find the two men who did that to her, and I’m going to kill them. You’re on your own with Smoke and Fire. Ask someone in the chemical division to help you.”
Grabbingthe keys off the wall, I headed to the garage and fired up the Benz. The sun was setting as I made my way to Lucas’s house. I knew there had to be evidence that the police missed. After all, they were investigating a B and E call. The only people who knew Lucas was dead were Sawyer and the CIA, and they weren’t sharing information about that until they could complete their investigation. For all the cops knew, Lucas was away on business, and Evie interrupted a break-in. Sawyer had said that Uber records showed Lucas had been picked up several days earlier and dropped off at the airport, explaining why his car was parked in his driveway. The agency had already erased the signs of his murder to ensure the men in blue wouldn’t interfere in their active investigation.
I parked several houses down and made my way to the back of the home to ensure no one would see me enter. Evie mentioned that one of the men came from the back of the house, so I headed in that direction. I passed two bedrooms and a bathroom before coming to the last door. It was the only room down the hallway with a closed, locked door. Optimistic that my predecessor had done the same thing, I picked the lock to gain entry. Inside nothing seemed out of place. A few cabinet drawers were ajar, only solidifying that the Russian had already looked at the contents. But, based on his tattoos, I was positive he was a mobster, not an agent; he wouldn't have looked for anything other than the obvious.
A walk-in closet door sat ajar, so I decided to start there. Pulling the door open, I found an empty closet except for a few boxes on a shelf. Searching through them delivered nothing of substance: a college diploma and some old photos. I was about to close the box and write it off as nothing when I noticed one of the photos was of a young woman hanging a framed diploma on the wall next to the closet. What caught my eye was the fact that the closet door was open, but it wasn’t a shallow closet. The photo showed that it went further in, which told me this closet was hiding something.
Lucas had mounted a tie rack against the back wall. At first glance, one wouldn’t give it the time of day, but what caught my eye was every hook had a tie on it but one. The average person would assume that the missing tie was one being worn. But I wasn’t an average person.It can’t be that simple, can it?I pulled at the hook, and nothing happened. I rubbed the top of my forehead and then decided to push on it. Sure enough, the hook wasn’t a hook but a pin. When you pushed it, the metal pin slid into the wall and caused an unlocking sound. I moved to the back wall, sliding it open like a door. When I stepped into the small room, a light automatically came on, and my eyes went wide at what lay before me.
The actual back wall was covered in photos and sticky notes. A banner across the top read Smoke and Fire. There was a photo of a man meeting with the two men Evie described. The mystery man wore a dark suit and a fedora. It was hard to get a good glimpse of him because the hat had shaded his face, and it was dark outside. Next were single shots of the two men; their names written at the bottom of the photo. The heavy-set man was named Konstantin Sorokin, and the man with the reddish-orange hair was Vladislav Popov, both members of the Bravata. Another photo showed the two men standing outside a building with a neon sign that readNepovinoveniye.The last picture was of Sawyer meeting with the man in the fedora. I removed the push pin and studied the photo closer.What are you doing, Sawyer? Who is this person that you are with, and what is your involvement in all of this?
I retrieved the four photos and put everything back in place. Looking at my watch, I knew I was running out of time before the nightclub closed.Nepovinoveniyewas a local hangout in DC for the Bravata, and it would be there if I had any chance of finding either of the two men I needed to locate.
I pulled up to the curb, parking under a burned-out streetlight. I didn’t have to wait long until I saw the man I’d come to find. He’d stumbled out of the nightclub with a young woman tucked into his side. I watched as they walked thirty feet, both laughing. They stopped beside a dark grey Cadillac. Leaning in, he stole a kiss before opening the door for her.
The car pulled away from the curb and headed north. I waited a few moments before I did the same. The vehicle swerved between the lines as it drove down the street. Drunk and oblivious to me following him.Fucking idiot is making this too easy for me.The Cadillac pulled into a driveway five miles from the club. The two walked to the front door, and the young lady fished for her keys in her purse. Once inside, they moved slowly through the house. A light turned on in every room they entered, followed by a piece of her clothing falling to the floor. I watched from the shadows as the young woman stood in the living room wearing only a thong. She dropped to her knees in front of Konstantin. Both arms rested on top of the couch cushions as he enjoyed the pleasure he was receiving. Silently, I opened the door on the side of the home, turning off the light as I entered, ensuring no one would see me. I moved slowly through each room until I stood behind them. The woman’s lips wrapped around Konstantin’s dick as she slid them up and down his shaft. When her eyes raised to look at him, she spotted me and let the Russian’s cock fall from between her lips as she screamed. Without hesitation, I placed a bullet between her eyes as Konstantin lunged from the couch.
The Russian’s body stiffened at the sight of the silenced gun. “Pull your pants up, don’t make a sound, or I’ll pull the trigger and kill you.” I moved slowly around the couch and sat in one of the chairs, waiting for the soon-to-be dead man to stuff his junk in his briefs and zip his pants. “Now, move very slowly and sit on the couch. If you move in a way I don’t like, I’ll shoot you in the head.”
The overweight man moved slowly and took his place on the couch but not before looking down to see the naked woman on the floor in a puddle of blood. “I need answers from you. Truthful ones. If I think you are lying I’m going to kill you, but not quickly. No, I’m going to do it nice and slow so you agonize from the pain. And when you think it’s about to be over, I’ll let you suffer a little longer. Then once you’re dead, I’m going to kill everyone in your family as penance for your lies. Do you understand?” I waited for a response and then continued. Pulling the picture from the breast pocket of my jacket, I asked, “Where can I find this man?”
“I’ve no idea,” he replied.
I lowered the gun and fired a shot, striking him in his thigh. “I’m going to ask you one more time, and I better receive an answer, or the next one lands dead center between your legs.”
“I do not know where he is now, but tomorrow you can find him at his daughter's dance recital. Seven p.m. Music City Hall.”
“See, that wasn’t hard at all, was it.” I didn’t wait for a reply before I asked the following question. “Who sent you to send a message to Sawyer Wyatt through his sister? I’d think very hard before you answer this one because I’d hate for them to start calling you Konstantina.”
“He’s the CIA guy, right. So, that makes you the grey man, no?”
“It does, so you know I can make this quick and easy or slow and painful. The choice is yours.”
The blood from the man's leg had saturated the couch cushion even though he attempted to control the bleeding with pressure from his hand. “All I know is someone came into the club and asked if we wanted to earn a hundred grand to ransack a house, find the girl, and send a message through her to her brother.”