The SVR Director looked at Borodin as Mikhail ended with the revelation that he had changed the agents’ orders. The look on the General’s face was not conducive to continuing the meeting.
“That will be all Mikhail!” ordered the SVR Director.
“But…” Mikhail wished to explain his actions.
“Out!” boomed Borodin, clearly unable to contain his anger any longer.
As the door closed behind Mikhail, Borodin sat back down.
“So, what should we do?” asked the SVR Director.
“We will do nothing. I will sort out this mess,” replied Borodin leaving no room for discussion.
“Mikhail?” asked the SVR Director.
“Find out exactly what he knows about Grebnevo,” instructed Borodin, looking again at the note in his hand. “Before you kill him.”
Chapter 13
Sean swung by the airport and solved two other issues on the way back to the house. The bright yellow Mustang was swapped for a less conspicuous Toyota Corolla and a prepaid cell phone was acquired for a frustrating $20. Twenty bucks that could have meant the difference between life and death for the boy.
Sean entered the lakeside estate for only the second time in his life. He listened carefully as the top of the hour news kicked off. The top story, again, was a local zoning issue. No Amber Alert had been issued. It had been almost five hours since the abduction and it seemed nobody, other than Sean, was looking for the boy. None of it bode well. Even when he was alone in Afghanistan, he knew the military were at least looking for his kidnap victims, not actively but they were certainly on the radar. Sean considered calling Black again. The boy deserved more; this was America for God’s sake! Sean was comparing the situation to Afghanistan and Afghanistan was looking more positive.
Sean picked up the cell and stopped himself short of calling. One drive-by, he thought. No point calling until he knew what they were up against. As he entered the street, the main question that had been racing through his head was answered. Why had nobody reported the kidnap and shooting? Simple, other than the target’s house at the end of the street, the rest of the houses were in darkness. All were unoccupied, either unfinished or probably brand new. Victims of the downturn and unaffordable.
Sean stopped the car before entering the street. With no other occupants and being at the back of the estate, drive-byes were going to be few and far between. No point in advertising his arrival, particularly after such a warm welcome earlier in the day. Sean stepped out of the air conditioned Corolla and gasped at the warmth still in the air. Why the hell people wanted to live here, he had no idea; it must have been almost 90 degrees and it was after nine at night. Sean tucked the Glock and the Jimenez pistol into his belt and quietly closed the car door. A small path cut behind the nearest house and, if the Sat Nav were right, it led to the lakeside. As he neared the lake, he slipped the Jimenez out of his belt and threw it as far as possible into the lake. It really was a piece of junk and would be rust by dawn. The Glock, on the other hand, was an entirely different prospect and he patted it, taking comfort from the hard angular edges digging into his skin.
Sean eased himself over the wall into the target property and crouched low against the wall. The garden offered little cover. A large expanse of grass gave way to an oversized pool, no shrubs or bushes to assist Sean, just a vast open expanse of garden. Fortunately, security lighting, like all the other properties he had passed, appeared to be exclusively for the front of the house. Apparently in Laredo, burglars didn’t use the back door. Sean edged forward and was suddenly assaulted by a wave of light. Sean threw himself over the wall and tucked himself tight in against it. Apparently in Laredo, the security lights out front were for show and the ones at the rear were triggered by motion sensors. Sean kicked himself for being so stupid but in Afghanistan, his enemies were lucky to have batteries for their torches, never mind multi million watt security lighting systems.
After a number of loud Spanish conversations, the lights shut down and darkness was restored. The two watchers had obviously concluded it was a wild animal that had triggered the lights, neither it seemed, was keen to explore further than the back deck, which suited Sean perfectly. It did, however, leave him with somewhat of a dilemma; how the hell was he going to find out anything from the wrong side of the garden wall?
Sean remained seated, his back to the wall. From what he had seen of the back garden, there was no possibility of getting anywhere near the house undetected and going by the earlier propensity for shooting, that included doing so alive. The rear wasn’t an option which left the sides and front of the house. Sean took a peak over the wall. The wall to the side of the house was still a good distance and he had to assume was afforded the same protection as the rear. So the rear and sides were out. He’d trigger the lights almost as soon as he’d set foot in the garden. That left the front, in its permanent state of daylight but that, in itself, had one major advantage. It wouldn’t react to Sean’s presence.
Katie Fox flinched as the lights exploded at the rear of the house. Her nerves couldn’t take much more. They had her baby and she knew they would kill him without a second thought. She began to shake involuntarily. The rear lights were set to react to only very large mammals. Her husband had got fed up with them bursting on and off throughout the night and had set them to their least sensitive mode. If the lights had come on, somebody was out there, not something, and that somebody was going to get her baby killed.
Her watchers grabbed their guns and rushed out of the back door, both screaming at each other. If it were the police or somebody coming to the rescue, they were going to be easy targets, but after a few minutes, the watchers returned. Katie spoke Spanish fluently and realized they thought the lights had been triggered by a raccoon or a coyote.
Katie looked at the photo of her baby. He was all she had left in the world. No other family, it was just her and James against the world. Up until three months earlier, life had been perfect in their own little world. Sean, James and she had been so happy. Then the parcel arrived, the memory of which would live with her until her last breath. A week later, right after the funeral, the watchers had arrived and she had been living under their gaze ever since. She hadn’t even had a chance to grieve properly; the men allowed her no time alone. Even at night her bedroom door had to remain open, while one was stationed at the door. James had slept beside her since Sean had died and that night was the first either of them would be alone. The tears started to flow as she thought of James, frightened and alone. He was just a baby, in a strange place, surrounded by people he didn’t know.
As the doorbell chimed, she automatically looked at the clock, 9.30 p.m. Nobody she knew would come to the house at that time of night.
“Quien es?” asked Miguel, the older of the watchers.
Katie could do nothing but shrug her shoulders, panic had already sunk in. The thought of anybody interfering and causing her son to be killed consumed her.
“Get rid of them!” he ordered, pulling her from her seat and handing her a handkerchief as he led her to the door.
Hector appeared from the back of the house and gave the all-clear sign. Whatever was happening was all at the front. Miguel waved him out of the hallway and back into the living room, out of sight of the door. Miguel took up station on the wrong side of the door. As she unlocked the latch, Miguel pointed his gun at her and put his finger to his lips. The message was loud and clear, say nothing of him or Hector.
Katie opened the door slowly, trying desperately to recapture at least some composure. She knew her son’s life depended on how she reacted to whatever was behind the door.