Black Pawn (Michael Cailen Book 1) (24 page)

Around 1:45 p.m., Michael, Martin and Josh arrived outside
the second address on the list.  Martin parked down the street, and they all
looked up at the apartment building.

“4F ... I'm going to assume is on the fourth floor,” 
Michael ascertained. “I'll go in alone.  Maybe there will be something in his
apartment that will tell me if he's our guy.”

“Be careful, Michael,” Josh cautioned.

“He's a pencil pusher.  I don't think you need to worry
about me.”

No one could argue with his logic.  He grabbed a black
baseball cap before leaving the truck.  There were sure to be cameras in the
building and he wanted to be able to hide his face.

The elevator stopped at the fourth floor.  As Michael
strolled down the hallway, he took note of the letters on the doors.  4F should
be the sixth door on the right, he figured.  He heard a door opening down the
hall.  It was 4F.  He continued walking nonchalantly.  The man exiting the
apartment turned to lock the door.  He glanced briefly at Michael then
continued to lock his door.  He pulled the key out, but then froze.  Michael
kept walking at the same pace.  The man looked at him again only this time with
a mixture of fear and disbelief.  The keys slipped from his trembling hands and
dropped to the floor.  Immediately, he bolted for the stairs.  Michael was in
pursuit.

RICK HAD
gone home for a late lunch and was just
leaving to head back to work.  He glanced at the man coming down the hall and
thought to himself how much he looked like Michael.  When he looked back, to
his horror it was Michael.  Instinct took over and he tried to run.  He made it
to the stairwell and even made it down half a flight of stairs before Michael caught
up to him.

Grabbing him by the shirt, Michael pressed his gun into Rick's
gut.  “Let's not do anything rash, okay?”

Rick nodded fearfully.

“I'd love to see your apartment,” Michael smiled.

Once inside, Michael encouraged Rick to take a seat on the
couch.  Rick was having a major feeling of deja vu.

“So we've established that you know who I am,” Michael
started off.  “And I know who you are, Rick.  Now that the introductions are
out of the way, how about you tell me where they're holding Jessica before I
blow your brains out.”

“Oh, God.”  Rick's whole body trembled.  “I don't know where
she is.”

“That's not good enough, Rick.”  Michael stepped forward
aiming the gun at his head.

It looked like there was a violent earthquake happening only
under Rick with the magnitude of his shaking.  “I didn't even know they had
her.”  He closed his eyes and turned away from the gun.  Michael almost felt
sorry for him.  He looked like he might wet his pants.

“How did they find us, Rick?” Michael asked calmly with the
gun still pointed at his head.

Rick began to cry.

Michael sighed and rolled his eyes.  “Keep it together,
Rick.  How did they find us?”

Rick just sat there sobbing.

“Am I safe in assuming it's because of you?” Michael
couldn't tell if Rick was nodding his head or just convulsing.  “Then how am I
supposed to believe you don't know where she is?”

Michael lowered his gun hoping it might calm Rick down.  He
was nearly hysterical.

“Please,” Rick whimpered as he slid off the couch onto his
knees.

Michael wasn't sure what to expect.  Was he going to grovel
for his life?  Rick started reaching a hand under the couch cushion, and
Michael quickly aimed the gun back at his head.  “Don't move!”

Rick put his hands up, blubbering something and pointing to
the couch.

Figuring Rick wanted to show him something under the
cushion, he kept his gun trained on his head with one hand and lifted the
cushion with the other.  There was a large manilla envelope.  Michael dumped
the contents out onto the coffee table.  Pictures of a little girl who couldn't
be older than six or seven.  Rick cried harder when he saw the pictures.  He
picked one up in his hands and held it.

Rick was on the verge of a mental breakdown.  The stress of
working for Morgan, the Russian mob and fearing for his daughter's safety as
well as his own was near enough to put him in the hospital.  Not to mention the
things he was forced to do.  With Michael now at his door, it was too much.

Michael grabbed a box of tissues off the kitchen counter and
handed them to Rick.  “You want to tell me about the girl?”

Rick blew his nose and wiped his eyes.  He looked at the
picture of his little girl playing at the park and smiled.  “She's my daughter.” 
He touched her face in the picture.  His smile suddenly vanished and he looked distraught
again.  “If I don't do what they say, they'll hurt my baby.”  He started
sobbing again.

Michael sighed.  He allowed himself to feel a touch of pity
for him.  “How old is she?” he asked.

“Six.”

“So those pictures are recent.  You've been working for
Morgan for years, why threaten you now?  What changed?”

“I'm not working for Morgan any more.  I'm working for Vlad
Milovich.”  Rick said his name with a tone of intense hatred.

“Morgan's out of the loop?”

Rick nodded.

“They don't trust him?”

Rick shook his head.

“How did you get involved in this?”

Rick closed his eyes and took a deep breath.  “About five
years ago, I was really in trouble.  I've always liked to gamble.  But after my
daughter was born, money was tight.  I still gambled though.  And I lost.  And
money got tighter.  So I'd gamble some more to try and make up my losses.  And
I'd lose more.  I started borrowing from loan sharks and I gambled, hoping to
get lucky.  My wife left me when my daughter was only a year old.  It was
because of the gambling.  I couldn't stop and she needed to take care of our
child.  I was gambling away all our money.  She couldn't even buy food.” Rick
took a deep breath and shook his head. 

“Eventually the loan sharks came looking for their money.  I
didn't have it.  I started to fear for my life.  I confided in Morgan one day
about what was happening.  I was a mess and he kept asking me what was wrong. 
So I told him.  The next day he said he had a solution to my problem if I was
interested.  I was so desperate I would've done anything.” 

Rick ran his hands down over his face. 

“He said he could wipe out my debt, but it would mean doing
some side jobs for him.  And I would have to keep it a secret.   I was just so
thrilled to get the debt off my back, I didn't bother to ask questions.  It
didn't take long for me to find out who I was really working for.  But at that
point, it was too late.”

Michael sat in the chair next to the sofa.  He took a deep
breath as he looked at Rick still sitting on the floor with the picture of his
daughter.   “Tell me what you know.  What happened in China?  Why are you
trying to kill me?”

Rick nodded.  “Edward Morgan works for Vlad Milovich.  I
don't know when that relationship started, but it was before me, that's for
sure.  I'm kept in the dark about a lot of things.  Morgan just orders me
around like a dog most of the time.  A lot I find out on my own.”  He took a
deep breath.  “China.” 

He paused as if he were trying to gather his thoughts. 

“Milovich has a business arrangement with a drug lord, Bai
Chen.  I'm sure you already know, after 9/11 it became much harder to get drugs
into the US. ”  He looked at Michael.  “Much harder.  Increased security, more
searches.  Milovich said he could handle all the drug shipments if Chen could produce
the goods.  Milovich has Morgan using CIA resources to smuggle the drugs into
the US.”

“Must be a very lucrative business arrangement.”

“It is,” Rick agreed.

“So what happened?”

Rick shook his head.  “An agent came very close to
uncovering Chen's production facility in Yunnan.  Morgan tried to get him to
stop investigating, but the agent wouldn't give up and went behind Morgan's
back.  The agent sent someone into China to talk to some villagers who might
know where the facility was located exactly.  Everyone panicked and the order
was given to kill all the villagers.  They couldn't let the production facility
be discovered.  It would set them back millions with the loss of production.”

“Did the villagers even know where it was?”

Rick looked down and shook his head.  “I don't know.  I
don't think anyone knew for sure.  But what's the lives of a hundred villagers
out in the middle of nowhere compared to hundreds of millions of dollars?  They
didn't want to take the risk.”

Michael clenched his jaw.  “I guess Shaun and I weren't part
of the plan.”

“You certainly were not.  Morgan arranged for one of our
local contacts in China to hire some wanna-be mercenaries to execute the
villagers.”

“But then we ruined the party.  Your contact snapped
pictures of me and Shaun, you identified us and the game was on.  Do I have it
right?”

Rick nodded while staring at the floor.

“This processing facility, it doesn't show up on satellite
photos?”

“No.  It's underground.”

That explained the coordinates to nothing next to the village
in Yunnan.  It only looked like nothing because everything was below the
surface.

“How big is this place?”

“Big.”  Rick raised his eyebrows when he said it.  “It's
most definitely the largest processing facility in the whole region.  You'd
have to go to Afghanistan to find something larger.”

“I guess they really don't want it found then.”

“No, they don't,” Rick agreed.

“What does White Knight and Black Pawn mean?”Michael
wouldn't have thought it possible, but Rick looked even more nervous at the mention
of those words.

“Spill it,” Michael demanded.

Rick closed his eyes and rubbed his forehead.  “White Knight
was the name of the operation in China that would have uncovered the processing
plant.  The one Morgan was intent on stopping at all costs.  Black Pawn is the
code name for a rising drug lord with strong ties to Al-Qaeda who was marked
for assassination.”

“Who is he?”

Rick looked up at Michael. “You.”

Michael didn't even have to ask for further explanation. 
The look on his face said it all.

“When the cover-up didn't go so well and they identified
you, Morgan was very concerned that you would tell to your supervisors about
what happened.  He was desperate to stop you before you could have a chance to
talk.  He needed something done in a hurry and his usual guy wasn't available. 
We created a target and Morgan had me forge the intelligence and authorization
papers.  Everything was made to look highly classified, coming straight from
the White House.  With those kind of missions, you don't ask questions.  You do
it and pretend it didn't happen.  An agent was assigned to take you out,
thinking you were a threat to national security.  The target was code named
Black Pawn.”

Michael was quiet for a few minutes.  Rick wasn't sure what
else to say.

“I guess I'm glad I didn't kill the guy,” Michael finally
spoke.  “The men I did kill.  Were they agents just following orders?”

“After Black Pawn failed, Morgan didn't want to risk forging
any more operations to get you.  The agent who had been assigned started having
doubts about the legitimacy of the mission.  He was killed during a car jacking
a few days later.  It wasn't random.  Morgan switched to hiring mercenaries.”

After a moment of silence, Rick snickered.

“What's so funny?” Michael asked.

“Black Pawn.”  Rick smirked. “Morgan chose it.  He thought
it would be poetic keeping with the chess theme.  He saw you as expendable, not
a real threat.  Inconsequential.”  Rick looked at Michael.  “Now you have him
in check.”

Michael also found the thought rather amusing.  He reveled
in it for a few more seconds before getting down to business. 

“The Russians have Jessica.  You're going to help me get her
back.”

Rick looked distressed again.  He shook his head. “They'll
kill me if I help you.”

“I'll kill you if you don't.”  Michael put his finger on the
trigger of his gun.

Rick swallowed.  “Please, my little girl,” he pleaded.

“Do you really think it will ever end, Rick?  Do you think
after they get the drive and I'm dead that you'll be free?  Your daughter will
be safe?  They own you.  And when they have no more use for you, they'll kill
you.  And they won't even think twice about it.”

Rick knew Michael was right.  His daughter would always be
used as leverage against him.  Even though he was equally afraid of Milovich and
Michael, he knew Michael was more trustworthy.  “What do you want me to do?”

“How do I get a message to Vlad?”

“There's a club downtown.  Niko's.   Milovich uses it to
launder money.  Anyone in management could get a message to him.  What are you
going to do?”

“Don't you worry about that.”  Michael smiled.  “If they
come to you wanting help decrypting a drive, you are not to help them in any
way.  I don't think they'll ask to use CIA resources, but they may ask you to
find someone who can do it.  I don't care what reason you give, but you are not
to help them.  If you do, I'll kill you.  Understand?”

Rick nodded.

“When the time comes, you're going to come clean about
what's going on at the CIA with Edward Morgan and Vlad Milovich.”

Rick sat silently staring at his daughter's photo as Michael
left.

Jessica woke back in her cell on the disgusting mattress,
feeling groggy and strange.  The room was pitch black and she searched around
the door for the light switch.  Finding it, she checked herself over, unsure
what might have happened to her while she was out.  Aside from feeling
extremely sore and bruised, she seemed fine.  Her whole body ached and her face
hurt.  Her eye was swollen and would no doubt turn black and blue.  She could
only imagine what she looked like.

She lay back down on the mattress and closed her eyes trying
to forget what happened to her.  Flashes of Dmitri with the needle kept
intruding.  Her heart pounded in her chest and her breathing became shallow and
rapid.  She sat up and took deep, slow breaths to try and calm herself.  Panic
would do her no good.

Her calm was interrupted by the door opening.  Her heart
raced again wondering what was going to happen now.  Dmitri entered holding an
ice pack and pain pills in one hand and a bottle of water in the other.   He
shut the door behind him.

“Did you lose consciousness?” he asked her.

“What?”

“When he hit you.  Did you lose consciousness?”  He stepped
closer, holding out the ice pack.

“Yeah.  Why do you care?”  She took the pack and tried to
gently press it to her face.  It was tender, but the ice felt good.

“Do you have a headache?  Ringing in your ears?  Blurry
vision?”

“Headache.  Why?”

“You may have a concussion.”  He doled out a couple of pain
pills and handed her the bottle of water.

She looked up at him as she put the pills in her mouth.  She
couldn't reconcile the look of concern on his face with the fact that he had,
just hours ago, injected her with heroin.  She opened the bottle of water and
swallowed the pills.

“Does Michael Cailen have the drive?”  he asked.

“I don't know.”  She looked right in his eyes when she said
it.

He sighed and looked down at the floor.  “If you tell me
where it is, I can make all of this go away.”  He looked back at her.  She just
stared at him.  “It wasn't in the apartment,” he continued.  “I found your
laptop, but not the drive.  Does Michael have it?”

She hadn't realized they had her laptop.  Last she knew, the
drive was with it.  If it wasn't there then she really did have no clue where
it was.

Dmitri noticed her reaction when he mentioned they had her
computer.  “Are you surprised we have your laptop?”

She stared down at the floor and didn't respond.

“Are you surprised the drive wasn't with it?”

She nodded, still staring at the floor.

“How much do you know about Michael Cailen?”

“I know you should be afraid of him.”  She looked him right
in the eyes as she spoke.

“This I know.”

“He's still alive?” 

The way Dmitri was talking, she thought she already knew the
answer but still felt compelled to ask.

“As far as I know.”

She nodded.

“You care about him a great deal.  Am I to assume he feels
the same for you?”

“No.”  She didn't want them to use his feelings for her
against him, even though she knew it was probably already too late for that.

Dmitri smiled.  “You are a terrible liar.”