Divide & Conquer (13 page)

“What’s wrong Pyotr?” prompted Alexa, his behavior bringing her out of her slumber.

“Deputy Director Beryutov is dead!”

Alexa looked at him, speechless.

“Killed in a car crash on his way to work this morning,” added Pyotr.

“That’s terrible!” Neither was under any illusion of what really happened.

“But we’ve had the all clear from Borodin,” she offered in comfort to a very nervous Pyotr.

“Yes but we have a major problem. I know how this works. A quick action followed by a thorough clean up.”

“We’ll be fine!” she confirmed again with confidence.

Pyotr pulled out his cell phone and handed it to Alexa. The screen showed the name 'DD Beryutov’.

Alex clicked the name and a text message appeared.

'In office, meeting with Director – stand by for orders.’

The date and time were that morning in Moscow at 6.54 a.m.

Alexa didn’t need Pyotr to spell out what it meant. She got up and packed her bag. They needed to move. Pyotr and Alexa had proof that Deputy Director Beryutov had not died on the way to the office but had in fact met with the Director prior to his death. They of course knew that GRU was involved via General Borodin. In short, they were walking corpses at least as soon as the telephone records for Beryutov were checked and the message to Pyotr was uncovered.

As she packed her bag, Pyotr updated her on the identity of the new Deputy Director, Helena Borodin, niece of General Borodin.

“Jesus, we are so fucked!” she offered unnecessarily as they fled the room.

As they got into the car, both looked at each other for ideas of where to go. They sat silently as both considered all the options. The world was a big place but whether it was big enough to evade the SVR and GRU was an entirely different question.

It was Alexa who uttered the word they were both thinking. “Defect?” she asked.

Pyotr mulled it over before nodding his head slightly. It really was the only option if they wanted to stay alive. If they gave the Americans enough Intel, they would be placed under their witness protection program, something which offered all previous Soviet and Russian traitors a modicum of security.

He looked at Alexa. She nodded more firmly. Decision made. Pyotr turned the ignition key. The car spluttered but didn’t start. He tried it again.

“No, don’t!!” screamed Alexa but it was too late, the key was fully turned and the car’s engine started.

The look of panic on Pyotr’s face turned to laughter as the low hum of the running engine allayed Alexa’s worst fears. Her paranoia was also replaced with laughter, as both realized how ridiculous they were being. The Russian system was not that efficient.

They were, of course, correct. The Russian system was not that efficient. It was only after Pyotr’s call that the Russians were alerted to any issues with regard to Pyotr and Alexa. The secretary was certain that the reference to 'on the way to work’ had somewhat surprised Travkin and she had conveyed this to her boss Helena Borodin. They quickly tracked down the reason for Pyotr’s surprise and a team had been dispatched to deal with the loose end.

However Pyotr and Alexa were already in the car with the engine running as that order was issued.

“OK, nearest US government agency it is then!”

“Yep,” agreed Alexa.

Pyotr selected reverse and hit the accelerator. Whether it was selecting the gear or pushing the accelerator that ended his life, he’d never know. The explosion that destroyed any link between Borodin, GRU, SVR and Sean Fox was massive and incinerated Alexa and Pyotr instantly.

General Yuri Borodin, Head of Russia’s GRU, didn’t hold power in one of Russia’s most powerful offices by chance. The text message from the freelance assassin he had hired the previous day informed him that his loose end had been tightened. He checked the time. His own team would be arriving in Laredo shortly. One of the other benefits of being the boss of GRU was that you had your own 'private’ army on call – Russia’s Spetsnaz troops, over twelve thousand special forces, were under Borodin’s direct control.

Chapter 24

As the door crashed open, Miguel’s corpse answered Luis’ first question. At least he knew Miguel wasn’t being disrespectful or stupid. Death was pretty much the only acceptable reason for not answering the call.

His two men moved cautiously into the hallway as Luis waited by the front door for the all clear. The sound of footsteps from upstairs caught their attention and Luis’ men had their weapons swinging towards the staircase as they both crouched ready for whoever was going to appear.

“Come down with your hands up!” shouted Luis authoritively, peeking his head into the hallway. His Desert Eagle .50 pistol also drawn and ready. Its size was ludicrous in comparison to Luis but as a drug dealer and nephew of El Jefe, he liked to look the part and the power it projected helped his confidence and standing with the men, or so he believed.

***

Katie looked at Sean for guidance as the shout reverberated up the staircase. He patted his belt uselessly, the Glock sat by the front door, exactly where the shouts were coming from.

“They were definitely not police?” asked Sean quietly.

“I’ve seen the truck before, it’s Los Zetas” she replied adamantly.

Sean looked around. “Weapons?”

“All downstairs, locked in the gun cabinet,” she replied, the tears beginning to well again.

“Shit!”

“We do have a four year old!” she replied angrily, justifying her rule of no guns anywhere but in the safe.

“If you don’t come down in the ten seconds, your son dies!” That shout had Katie running past Sean’s outstretched grip and down the stairs in an instant.

“Shit!” he said to himself, as she escaped his grasp. He stood waiting for the gunfire but none came. They didn’t open fire on her. He didn’t know much about the Mexican cartels but was fairly sure they’d be like any other gang. If you kill one of theirs, they killed you.

With no gunfire, Sean was left with a dilemma. Should he join her? They didn’t know he was there. At least they didn’t know Sean Fox was there. They may suspect somebody else was there. She may tell them. She was a mother trying to save her child but she also thought he was her husband. So she may not. Sean swayed one way then another. He could slip out of a back window and come back through the front, grab his Glock and take them out. Or, she could be raped and killed within the next few minutes, not something he wanted on his conscience. They of course may have the boy with them and kill them both.

The slap that he heard next stopped any further thoughts. He couldn’t listen to her being beaten and do nothing. A second slap, even louder had Sean moving.

“I’m coming down!” he shouted and with his hands in the air walked slowly down the stairs. At least if he were in the mix, they had a chance. Better to die a stupid hero than a coward, he thought.

***

Luis slapped the bitch again, evening up the redness of the cheeks. She fell to the floor and began to sob loudly.

“Who did this?” he asked again grabbing her long blonde hair and pulling her to her feet.

The shout from upstairs made him jump which, thankfully, his men failed to notice as they once again swiveled expertly towards the staircase.

As the man appeared on the staircase, Luis caught his breath. It couldn’t be, he had watched his uncle carve this man to pieces. He had watched every grizzly minute of it and had sleepless nights ever since because of it. This man was dead.

The man to Luis’ right had been with them that day and he could see that he too was reacting in the same way. It couldn’t be. He could also see how nervously he was training his weapon on the man they knew as Sean Fox.

“Hold your fire!” he said with as much command as the shakiness of his voice would allow.

“Don’t hit her again,” warned Sean, pointing to Luis.

Luis subconsciously stepped away from Katie. The sight of the ghost of Sean Fox brought back many old tales he had heard as a child during the day of the dead festival.

“But you are…” stammered Luis.

Sean could see he had completely freaked two of the Mexicans. The other was struggling to comprehend what was freaking out his two colleagues while trying to keep his weapon trained on him.

“Sean Fox,” replied Sean, his hand outstretched as he walked towards Luis. “Pleased to meet you!”

“Dead!” continued Luis, looking down at the outstretched hand in disbelief.

After a couple of seconds, Sean withdrew his hand and moved towards Katie.

“I think she’s mine,” Sean reached down and helped Katie her to her feet.

Luis finally pulled himself together and shook off the tales of dead rising, devils and whatever other nonsense his head had been filled with as a child and aimed his Desert Eagle at Sean’s head.

“I watched Sean Fox die, who the fuck are you?!” he said with some conviction.

Sean reckoned if he were going to be shot, they’d already have killed them. For whatever reason, they hadn’t come to shoot in retaliation. There was something they needed. Sean’s contacts. Katie had mentioned that was why they were keeping an eye on her.

“Let’s talk about James,” replied Sean taking control and walking towards the living room, ignoring the huge barrel that was staring him in the face.

Sean led Katie away and the two Mexicans looked at Luis for direction. He nodded acceptance and signaled them to follow. He needed to know what had happened. He could save face later if there was a later, depending on how El Jefe reacted to what he was about to uncover.

The sight of the bullet-ridden wall and the body of another Los Zetas was not a pleasant welcome for Luis, payments would need to be made to the man’s family. Los Zetas always looked after the family of the fallen. Two down, two large payments, Luis’ mood worsened.

“Please, sit down.” Sean waved towards one of the sofas, inviting the Mexicans to take a seat.

Only Luis sat down. His two men took up positions either side of the living room, their weapons ready.

“What happened to my men?”

“Your men?” asked Sean quizzically.

“My uncle’s men,” he clarified automatically and immediately chastised himself inwardly for falling for such an obvious trick.

“So you are the nephew of the boss of Los Zetas!” teased Sean, adding very deliberately and slowly. “That must make you a very important person, very powerful!”

Sean didn’t watch Luis, he watched his men. If they understood English they would react to what he said. One man did, a smirk appeared on his face. That told Sean everything he needed to know. This guy was the boss’ nephew but commanded little respect and whatever he did was thanks to his uncle.

“Yes it does!” said Luis with some conviction and confidence. “So what happened to my men?”

“I killed them!”

“Why?”

“They pointed their guns at me!” smiled Sean looking towards the two gunmen.

Both gunmen flinched. Hector and Miguel were experienced ex-soldiers and would not have been easily killed.

Luis was taken aback by Sean’s candor. He expected a little more contrition in the current situation. He had two men covering them with guns and had their child hostage. Yet he felt he was the underdog.

He raised his gun and pointed it at Katie.

“I don’t think you are fully appreciating your position,” threatened Luis.

“Whoa!” Sean raised his hands, he had played him too hard. “Sorry, I promise, I fully appreciate our position. I didn’t catch your name?”

Luis’ hand began to shake ever so slightly as he held the massive pistol aloft. He willed himself to pull the trigger but couldn’t. He had never killed anyone before. Starting with an unarmed helpless woman wasn’t going to be the easiest of first kills. Sean’s timely and quick intervention was going to save his reputation in front of his men. As far as they knew, he would have done it.

“Luis, my name is Luis,” offered Luis bringing the gun back down, his arm muscles welcoming the move.

Katie let out a breath, her first since the gun had been aimed at her. Sean kicked himself. This was a young man with serious respect and authority issues and he had pushed him too far. He had almost got Katie killed. He had to play him, not wind him up.

“Luis, I’m sorry,” he reiterated. “Your men shot first, I shot back,” he pointed towards the wound on his leg in confirmation that they had indeed fought him in some way.

“But Sean Fox is dead, so who are you?” Luis asked for the third time.

“My name really is Sean Fox.”

“And the man we killed?”

“Another Sean Fox.”

Katie shifted nervously in her seat, uncomfortable with the discussion and Sean’s constant insistence that there were two of him.

“So you are no use to us,” offered Luis.

“Depends, on whether I’m the right or wrong Sean Fox,” replied Sean mysteriously.

“And how would I know?” asked Luis quizzically, playing along with wherever Sean was headed.

“I suppose if I could give you the contacts and leads to the East coast distributors, I would be the right one. If I couldn’t, I wouldn’t be.”

“Can you?” the hope in Luis’ voice gave away just how desperate he was.

“Where is James?” asked Sean.

“He is safe, can you?” asked Luis again.

“Where is James?” reiterated Sean.

“Can you?!” Luis asked more forcefully.

Katie kicked Sean’s ankle. She wanted him to stop.

“Yes!” replied Sean definitively.

Chapter 25

General Yuri Borodin looked at the pilot as though he were mad. “What do you mean we have to put down?”

“It’s a no fly zone, Sir.”

“Don’t be ridiculous, tell them I’m on board!”

“I have, they told me even if you were the President of Russia, you’d still not get in by air.”

In all his years as a senior member of the Russian military, he had never been told he couldn’t do anything.

“Ignore them, I’ll have their heads when we land!” he boomed in outrage.

The pilot, under no illusion who was his boss, continued on their original path.

Vasiliy sat next to Borodin quietly. He was used to watching him throw his weight around, of which there was plenty to throw. He knew he’d not hear the end of the outrageous suggestion that, he, General Borodin, could not fly wherever he needed to go, for some time. Vasiliy pitied the poor fool on the ground, who did not know what was about to hit him. Siberia would be his next posting but only if he were lucky and Borodin’s mood lightened before they landed.