Authors: Parker Hudson
Tags: #redemption, #spiritual warfare, #christian fiction, #terrorist attacks, #thriller action suspense, #geo political thriller
Sawyer looked at the arrangement and took a
chair, leaving the other chair for Knox and the sofa for
Kamali.
When they were seated, Knox took out his
gold pen and began rotating it on the arm of the chair. “What’s up,
David? Is this about a sabbatical again?”
David felt as if his heart were not beating.
I’ve got to do this. Please give me strength
. He looked
directly at the older man. “No. Actually, it’s more than that. I’m
quitting, effective immediately.”
Knox’s eyes dimmed slightly and the pen
stopped, but his face remained expressionless. “Quitting?”
David nodded. “Yes. I have to do something
else. My family needs me, and frankly I’m not crazy about a lot of
what we’re doing.”
“What do you mean?”
“Communications is one thing. That’s what we
used to do. Now we’re into the internet, gambling, games, even
pornography. I guess I’m not proud of what we do any more.”
“But we’ve been together while all of that
growth happened, and you’ve been happy to cash our checks,” Knox
said, with an edge to his voice. The pen took up its flight
again.
David looked down for a minute.
Come on!
You’ve seen him do this before. Don’t back down
! “Yes. And
that’s why I’m quitting. I can’t keep taking money, given what we
do.”
Mustafin shifted in his seat, and Knox
smiled slightly. “David, I think you need the money right now,
don’t you?”
“Yes, I do.”
“Then we’ll raise your base by ten percent,
effective immediately”
David paused. “Thank you, Trevor, but the
money is only part of it.”
“What do you propose to do?”
“I’m not sure. Real estate is all I know.
But I can’t stay at USNet.”
Knox and Kamali exchanged glances. “David,
we’ve been together almost since the beginning.”
“I know. I appreciate that. I just want to
get on with another life, closer to my family.”
“Is there something else that you’re not
telling us?”
David looked at both men for a moment,
trying to figure out what they might know through the RTI that Todd
had told him about. “Well, I just watched a video, sent to me on a
link, of the secret police in Iran—he nodded toward Kamali—killing
my cousin, because he was pushing back against their fascist
mullahs. So now I’ve also got to try to find his wife, if she’s
alive. As you can see, I have a lot to do with several family
members, and I now know that nothing I’m doing at USNet is that
important any more.”
Knox shook his head. “I can’t believe what
happened to your cousin. I’m so sorry.”
David lowered his eyes and nodded several
times.
Kamali moved forward on the sofa and said,
“I am, too. But David, I really think you should reconsider such a
move very carefully. Are you aware that a senior member of your
department has been taking bribes from a developer, which has cost
USNet a lot of money?”
David frowned. “What are you talking
about?”
“Todd Phelps. We’ve just learned that he
accepted a quarter of a million dollars to put USNet’s office in
that new space in Minneapolis. Now he’s negotiating on Kansas City,
and there will be another big payment for him from the developer
when that deal is done.”
“How was I supposed to know?”
“How could you
not
know? Or maybe
participate? And even if you didn’t, what sort of a manager does
that make you? How do you think all of that will look in the
newspaper and on USNet news programs when you try to start
something new? We think you should stay at USNet, forget these
issues, and one day retire as a wealthy man.”
Son of a…
His heart started to work
overtime. David thought for a moment and then shook his head. “I’ll
just have to take the hit and do the best I can.”
Knox frowned. “You must be a masochist, to
trade a great job for personal ruin.”
“I guess so.”
Kamali said, “Well, there’s one more thing
that you might want to consider before you decide to turn us down.
We have traces on your movements, of course, from the GPS repeater
in your ID card. We know that back in April you visited the
apartment of a young woman, Samantha, who is now a rising star in
the upload adult movie market. Do you think your wife would like to
know what you were doing there?”
Kamali and Knox watched as David turned red.
He stood up.
“Actually, she already does. That’s our
daughter’s
apartment I visited.”
Knox’s eyes squinted slightly, and he
grasped the pen with both hands. “Your daughter?”
Still standing over them, his fists
clenched, David said, “Yes. ‘Samantha’ is our daughter Callie…And
it’s been eating me alive that our nineteen year old does the
grossest things and USNet makes money. And while I’m at it, our son
Rob is so consumed by our online games that he’s been doing God
knows what with adults who have stalked him in our chat rooms.
That’s why he was in a wreck.” He took a deep breath. “And,
actually, Todd Phelps came to me right before I left and told me
about something called RTI. I didn’t really believe him at first.
It’s still hard to believe, and I’d rather just forget about it.
But that high tech threat about me visiting our daughter tends to
confirm what Todd told me, and it means that I’ve got to get out! I
won’t tell anyone about any of this—I just want out.”
Knox stared at David for a few moments, as
if considering his words, then looked over at Kamali and back to
David.
“It sounds like Todd Phelps told you some
stories that are made up, to cover his own issues. Or one of you
terribly misunderstood the other. Who else did he tell?’
“I don’t know. He was looking for my help
when I get back from Moscow. But now I don’t want to deal with it.
He and I just want out. Please just let us go, and we’ll both try
to do the best for our families.”
Knox returned the pen to his pocket. When he
spoke, his voice was calm and resolved. “All right, David. We had
no idea. I’m genuinely sorry about your cousin, and of course your
son and daughter. Perhaps we can help you find something new.”
“I…”
I better not mention Kristen
. He
unclenched his hands. “OK, thanks. But first I’ve got to help our
children. I just found out this morning that Callie is pregnant and
her roommate is dead. Didn’t you say our adult movies have no
victims, no negative consequences?”
Knox’s face did not change. “Presumably your
daughter and her roommate made choices.”
“Right. And Jane made her choice while in
Mexico. Have you told President Harper about moving the younger
actresses to Mexico to get around the new laws you’ve promised to
support?”
Knox paused. “Clearly you’re upset, David.
You’ve made your choice. We wish you wouldn’t leave USNet. But if
you’ve made up your mind, we hope that it all works out. We’ll
clear up whatever the misunderstanding is with Todd Phelps, and we
won’t mention it to anyone. Don’t worry about it. We sincerely wish
you the best with your family. In fact, we’ll give you six months
severance next week, so that there are no hard feelings.”
David took a step toward the door and
nodded. “Thank you.”
“Yes. Are you planning to leave today,
before the reception?”
“Yes. I changed my ticket to the afternoon
flight. I have to leave for the airport in just a little
while.”
“Well, look. Akbar has to go to the airport
in a few minutes. Why don’t you ride out with him? It’ll save you a
lot of time and hassle.” He looked at Kamali. “You could give David
a ride, couldn’t you?”
“Yeah. Sure. Are your bags packed?”
“Yes.”
“Then check out and I’ll meet you with our
driver by the side door in ten minutes. It’s the least I can do to
help you and your daughter.”
“OK. Thank you. Believe me, no one will ever
know about RTI. I’ll forget all about it.”
Knox smiled. “We trust you, David. Have a
good flight, and take care of your family.”
As he turned and walked to the door, David
said, “It will be a change, but I’m going to try.”
Ten minutes later David walked out the side
door of the hotel with his large travel bag and briefcase. A
Russian driver appeared from a black Mercedes double-parked in the
street. “Mr. Sawyer?” he asked. When David nodded, he said, “Mr.
Kamali is waiting for you inside the car. Please let me have your
bags, and we’ll leave for the airport.”
“Yes, thank you,” David said, handing him
the bags and walking around to the back right passenger door.
When he opened it, Kamali smiled from the
other side of the backseat and motioned to him. “Please, get
in.”
“Thanks. I really appreciate this.”
“We’re glad to help.”
The driver got in and they pulled away.
At that moment, precisely 10:00 a.m., 800
kilometers to the southeast, one of the Russian launch team members
pushed a button on his hand-held radio. From the small, secluded
valley in which their transport had stopped earlier that morning, a
short burst traveled up to an orbiting satellite and back to earth
a moment later.
The signal was read by Simon North at
NovySvet and automatically relayed to Victor Mustafin at the
command console in the USNet corporate jet. It was their preplanned
hourly check confirming that the missile was fully armed and
operational.
Mustafin smiled and was about to get up from
the console to stretch. But then he received an urgent encrypted
email from Trevor Knox.
The car with David and Akbar drove along the
south side of the Kremlin, between its high red brick wall and the
Moscow River. The two men didn’t say much, and David found it a
little uncomfortable. Kamali spoke in some language with their
driver, who occasionally looked at David in the rearview mirror.
I probably shouldn’t have come with Akbar. But I guess I need to
keep some sort of decent relationship with him, given what I heard
about RTI—assuming that Todd was telling the truth. I just want to
disappear from all of this and get back to my family
.
David knew central Moscow reasonably well
from his days of searching for office space with Andrei. He
expected them to circle around the Kremlin and head northwest up
Tverskaya Street toward Sheremetevo Airport. Instead, they went
across the bridge and out Bolshaya Yakimaka to the southwest.
David turned to Akbar. “Why are we going
this way to the airport?”
“From here it’s actually quicker to go out
to the Ring Road on Leninsky Prospekt and then around to the north
on the Ring.”
David knew that the Ring Road was a fast
expressway. They drove southwest out of the city center on the
broad avenue, past block after block of Soviet area mid- and
high-rise apartments, occasionally broken by a park or a cluster of
new retail buildings. Twenty minutes later they drove directly
under the Ring Road and kept going. David twisted to the right as
they went under the bridge. “Hey, wasn’t that the Ring Road?” he
asked as he turned back to Akbar.
“Yes, it was.” Kamali reached inside his
coat and pulled out a black automatic pistol, which he leveled at
David’s chest.
David looked from the barrel of the gun to
Akbar’s smile. “What are you doing?”
“We’re driving out to dispose of USNet’s
former real estate group leader.”
“What?”
“You’ve elected to leave us. And you even
despise us because of stupid choices your children have made.
Unfortunately, thanks to Todd Phelps, you know too much to remain
alive. So we’re going to have to kill you. And Todd.”
“Kill me?”
“Yes.” He said it in an offhand way. “It’s
bad for you, and a great waste for USNet. The fact that we missed
your daughter’s connection is particularly troubling to us. Mr.
Knox and I are initiating a more thorough background search on the
families of all our people.”
“Wait a minute.” David turned slightly.
“Does Knox know you’re doing this?”
“He ordered it.”
David’s heart began to race, and he felt
light-headed. “So you’re just going to take me out into the country
and kill me?”
Kamali reached into a coat pocket and, still
pointing the pistol at Sawyer, screwed on a silencer. He smiled
again. “No. That’s not the plan, unless you do something stupid.
Actually we
are
on the way to the airport. It’s just that
our corporate jet is at Vnukovo, not Sheremetevo. We want you to
see the Presidential reception that you’ve worked so hard for and
the special events that will follow it. Then, while the rest of us
are on the way home, we’ll let some of our local people take care
of you. We
will
tell them to make it quick. No torture. Your
body will be found tomorrow, or maybe the next day. It will appear
to have been another chapter in the long-running media hype of how
bad the Russian mafia has become.”
David felt his stomach filling with acid.
Kamali continued. “But I imagine that so much will be going on in
Moscow after today’s events that few people will notice the death
of one American businessman. And if they do,” he said and smiled,
“maybe the extra bad news will help keep out more Western
competition.”
“Akbar, people don’t kill people over
business.”
“Our RTI intelligence system is more than
business! Knox had to eliminate his own brother twenty years ago.
And we killed that Porter fellow a couple of months ago because you
told Knox he would cost us fifty million dollars. So why wouldn’t
we kill you? You know much more than either of them ever knew.”
“You killed Bill Porter?”
“Of course. What did you think? Now USNet
has that building under contract. I’d say it worked out well.”
“You killed Porter,” he repeated, almost to
himself.
In a few minutes they entered the Vnukovo
Airport area. Before reaching the terminal they turned to the right
down an unmarked road and drove up to a gate where a guard stopped
them. The driver partially rolled down his window, leaving up the
tinted rear windows, and Kamali held the pistol pushed into David’s
side while the driver showed a special pass to gain entrance to the
corporate aviation ramp. Once inside the gate they drove past
several hangars and about a dozen corporate jets, most in Moscow
for the afternoon’s events. They continued toward a single large
jet parked by itself at the end of the ramp. Next to it was a stand
of trees that created a wide buffer inside the perimeter security
fence.