To Russia With Love (Countermeasure Series) (65 page)

Roy had been confident he would have plenty of time to replace the funds and that they would never find out about his withdrawals, since they didn’t need to tap it for day-to-day expenses. Their pensions had been enough to cover those. But things didn’t quite happen the way he’d expected. Over the past few years, he’d continued to bleed the fund in order to maintain the style of living his family had grown accustomed to. His plan was to wait for his luck to change. To repay every single penny once the market stabilized.

Five months back his luck had turned all right, but for the worse. His parents had popped in for a visit and had dropped a bomb. They’d found their dream home. Their eyes had shone with excitement as they had explained they were putting an offer on a cute little bungalow in the Caribbean and, if everything went according to plan, they would be moving in a few months.

On seeing the surprised expression etched on his face, his mother had commented,
“Don’t worry, Roy. We’ll come to visit, and you can always fly the whole family to spend time with us. Think of it as a vacation destination.”
His heart had sunk to his feet.

As soon as they’d left, he had accessed their fund and grown lightheaded. He’d taken a substantial amount from their account, more than he’d even realized. Once they attempted to draw from it, his syphoning of the funds would be out in the open. He couldn’t let his parents find out he’d failed them, failed his own family. He couldn’t let that happen.

Desperate, he made another choice and robbed Peter to pay Paul. He doctored records, shaved off money from MDS’s books, and used it to fill the hole he’d dug in his parents’ dream just in the nick of time. Their offer went through and they were at that moment enjoying their golden years in their little bungalow by the sea, with its two pink flamingos stuck in the sand like sentinels at their door. He shook his head and didn’t know what disgusted him more: those damn flamingos, or how messed up things had gotten since.

The cycle had continued to get worse when a couple of weeks later, Mark Devlin had called a managers’ meeting. He had announced that MDS had developed a groundbreaking piece of software that could change the landscape of the financial market. The program had the potential to generate a tidy sum of revenue and Devlin, expecting amazing returns, had decided to go public with MDS. Roy had panicked. He knew that a financial audit of the company had to happen first. All financial statements and transactions, management structure, and company holdings had to be in order and demonstrate a sound footing. When that took place, he would be in a world of hurt.

For nights, he’d agonized over how to cover up his stupidity, when, by chance, he had come across an article about online fraud in Russia and how widespread it was. That’s when he’d realized the answer was in hand. The decrypter that Mark Devlin had mentioned. Its potential was his ticket out of hell. His mind had run circles around that piece of information and, in the end, he had mapped out a scheme that would save his ass. If he could find a buyer for the software without having the source of the infiltration traced back to him, he would secure the funds needed to replace the money and move on with his life.

The Russian connection in the article reminded him of an MDS employee from Russia he had disciplined in the past for fraudulent use of the company’s credit card. He was the perfect mole. Easy to manipulate. Isolated. No friends. And a gambling habit that couldn’t be sated. His money-flow issues rivaled Roy’s own addiction to the stock market.

He had pulled Tomlin into his office under the pretense of reviewing the disciplinary action and had hooked him in with the offer of helping to pay his outstanding gambling debts. Tomlin had jumped at the opportunity. Roy had directed him to avoid all electronic means of communication. Instead, they had used handwritten notes delivered covertly between them to seal the deal. His instructions to Tomlin were straightforward. Use his Russian connections to find a buyer, set up a back door on the server, and coordinate the sweep of the decrypter file, leaving no trace of an infiltration behind.

Tomlin had come through with a buyer. A prominent businessman by the name of Vladimir Mikhailov. Anger flared high in his chest when he recalled the events that had foiled his best-laid plans. The hacker Mikhailov had put in charge of the server infiltration had misunderstood Tomlin’s instruction and had not only copied the files, but deleted the original from the server as well. To compound matters, the software was not complete. It was still in development, a piece of information Devlin hadn’t mentioned, and Mikhailov had refused to pay him until the software was fully operational. He scrubbed his face with his hands and didn’t know whether to laugh or cry. His family was now safe from Mikhailov’s reach, but his arrest in Russia also extinguished Roy’s hopes of covering up his indiscretions.

As the rest of the newscast blared on the TV, Roy jumped from the couch and hurried to his office. Since the day Devlin had called his meeting and disclosed the upcoming IPO, Roy had put into place a backup plan in the event Mikhailov did not come through with payment—a family vacation to Cuba. A country without an extradition agreement with the US. It would be a long two-leg trip through Canada, but once there, they could remain out of the long arm of the American justice system.

His hands were clammy and sweat beaded on his forehead as he pulled up the airline website and exchanged their tickets for that evening. A big fee later and with confirmation of their new flight itinerary, he pushed away from his desk.

“Martha!” He walked into the kitchen and took her by the shoulders. “I just got word that the IPO audit has been scheduled for the same week we are supposed to be on vacation. I had to move our trip to Cuba up a couple of weeks. We need to fly out today instead.”

“What? Are you going nuts?” Martha’s expression was puzzled.

He kissed her lips. “Sure. We can do it. It’s summer. No school.”

“You expect us to be packed and ready to go now?” Concern colored her voice.

“The flights are booked and hotel all handled. We just need to be at the airport by three pm. If we pack now, we should be able to make it with no problem.”

“What’s going on, Roy?” Her eyes grew wide.

“Nothing bad. I don’t want to lose the money we’ve already forked out. The tickets are non-refundable.”

Martha was a practical woman. He knew that argument would win her agreement. “Fine.”

“We need to hurry.”

Roy could clearly see that Martha was not happy with the abruptness of his announcement, nor with his flimsy excuses to take off at a moment’s notice, but, as usual, she caved to his request. Within record time, the family was packed and headed to the airport for a very long vacation.

*****

Clearing security had been a breeze: not a lot of luggage to inspect, only a few electronics and cameras. Yet Roy’s eyes were riveted on the security personnel, covertly watching them, looking for signs they were on to him. His stomach had cramped when it was his turn to remove his shoes and walk through the metal detector, but they had all been cleared for boarding and directed to their gate.

Waiting for their turn to board, Roy drummed his fingers on the hand rest and looked at the crystal face of the watch wrapped around his wrist. Since the attendant had stepped behind the counter to handle passengers’ last-minute seat adjustments, Roy had kept his eyes trained on her every move, expectant of the boarding call.

His heart revved when the attendant finally moved to the gate and picked up the PA microphone. “Let’s go. Get your things—they are about to call our flight.” Martha scrambled to grab their carry-on bags and herded the boys in front of them toward the boarding lane.

The procession to the seats was painfully slow. Standing behind Martha, his eyes kept darting to the corridor, almost expecting to see sirens, police rushing the gate. His stomach cramped again and he bumped into Martha, making her almost stumble over the twins. She turned around to look at him, a deep frown marring her face.

“Sorry,” he mumbled, and continued their slow progression to the attendant who checked their boarding passes and directed them toward the ramp.

Once boarded, Roy sat on one side of the aisle with his eldest son and Martha on the other with the twins. He shifted uncomfortably in his seat, his sweat-drenched shirt stuck to his back and beads trailing from his brow. He wiped the back of his hand across his forehead and gulped in small draughts of air to ease his anxiety.

“Come on, come on. Finish boarding already.” He could tell Martha was worried about his behavior from the looks she kept casting his way. Unable to give her the reassurances she needed, he stared straight ahead. When one attendant picked up the phone and another locked down the door, Roy almost wept with joy. He fell back against his seat and offered Martha a smile.

“Ladies and gentlemen, the Captain has turned on the Fasten Seat Belt sign. If you haven’t already done so, please stow your carry-on luggage underneath the seat in front of you or in an overhead bin. Please take your seat and fasten your seat belt. And also make sure your seat back and folding trays are in their full upright position.”

With each word the attendant spoke, his smile grew wider and he reached across the aisle to take Martha’s hand in his. She glanced into his eyes. “Are you going to tell me what this is all really about? I have never seen such a frantic look on your face before.”

A twinge pinched at his heart that yet again he was lying to her. It seemed the lies had gotten easier over the years. “There is nothing wrong. I’m just looking forward to spending sunsets on the beach with you and was worried we wouldn’t make the flight. Everything is going to be okay.”

“At this time, we request that all mobile phones, pagers, radios, and remote controlled toys be turned off for the full duration of the flight—”

When his wife turned her attention to the twins and helped them turn off their portable games, Roy breathed another sigh of relief. Each announcement, one step closer to take off. His entire body sagged and almost melted into his seat as the plane began to pull away from the gate.

As the safety instructions rolled on the television monitors, Roy racked his brain for anything that would help mask what he had done. Without the payoff from Mikhailov, his options were almost slim to none. The best he could hope for was to hide in Cuba until a solution presented itself. His biggest worry was how to break the news to Martha that they could not return to their home.

His son gripped his hand as the engines revved and the plane prepared for liftoff. Roy lowered his head and, in a low voice, consoled him. “It will be great. Like an amusement ride.” His head snapped up when the engines wound down and the captain’s voice came over the speaker.

“This is the Captain speaking. We’re experiencing mechanical difficulties, and as a precaution will be returning to the gate. We apologize for this delay and appreciate your patience. Our number one goal is your safety. Thank you.”

Roy’s hands grew clammy and his breath burst in and out of him in shallow puffs. His mouth grew parched and he licked his lips several times. As the plane made the slow, agonizing turn back to the terminal, dizziness hit him and his vision grew dark. He could hear Martha’s voice calling him. He lifted a hand and waved her off, hoping she would leave him alone. His mind raced and his gut clenched.

As the plane powered down, the attendant’s voice boomed over the speaker.
“Ladies and gentlemen, please remain in your seats. We will depart as soon as the ground crew has checked the plane. ATC has given us an estimated delay of twenty minutes. Until then, sit tight and we’ll keep you advised of any changes.”

Roy observed one of the attendants cross the aisle to the door and, moments later, bright daylight broke into the cabin. His eyebrows creased in a deep frown and his eyes locked on the attendant area. His heart dropped when two men in dark suits boarded the plane and walked down the narrow aisle, checking seat numbers. As they neared the row his family was sitting in, the man in the lead snared and held his gaze, passing him and stopping immediately behind his seat. The second man halted his progress at the row in front of him. “Mr. Roy Denner?”

Numbness consumed him, his ears rang, and he could feel every single set of eyes now trained on him like laser beams burning his skin. “Yes.”

“You need to come with us, sir,” the man who had been in the lead advised him in a low controlled voice. He didn’t need any words to understand why they were there for him.

“Roy? Roy! What’s happening?” Martha’s panicked shrill echoed in the cabin.

Roy shot an apologetic look at his wife as he stood. “It will be okay, Martha,” he murmured. His shoulders slumped and he stared at his feet as he shuffled down the aisle, escorted by the two men.
I can fix this. I just need more time.
An overwhelming sense of loss hit him and it became impossible to steady the erratic beat of his pulse. Who was he kidding? It would never be okay again.

Cloak and Dagger