“We can’t afford any more mistakes.”
“What would you like me to do?” Campbell asked.
There was an air of surprise in his voice, and Kozlov realized he hadn’t expected another chance.
“Two things.”
“Sure. Whatever you need.”
“I want you to get in touch with your friends,” Kozlov said.
Campbell used to do contract work for a private security company before the Bratva had brought him on board. They were all ex-military who worked the protection circuit. They specialized in bodyguarding and perimeter security.
“I can do that,” Campbell said.
“We need to secure the Chicago building for the next forty-eight hours,” Kozlov explained. He straightened his bow tie in the mirror, with the phone pinched between his shoulder and ear. “They will be well paid.”
“Should I have someone contact you?”
“No. Put them in touch with Dimitri. I want them in place as soon as possible.”
“Will do. And me?”
“I want you to head to the Virginia operation,” Kozlov said. “Nobody in or out. Seal the place up.”
“Got it.”
Chapter 95
Maria Soller’s panic gave way to relief when Melody Millar told her the charger for the iPod had been tucked inside the bag the man had left on the desk. She made her way as far along the metal railing as she could, but when she stretched, the bag was just out of her reach. She exhaled in frustration and looked over at Melody and the woman she didn’t know. She flashed them a quick look at her iPhone, and both women’s expressions were lined with hope.
“The battery is dead,” Soller whispered. She pointed to the wall socket. “If I can just get to that stupid bag, I can plug it in.”
“I was wondering what you were doing with that chair,” the woman said quietly, looking impressed. “Can you move the desk?”
Two quick nods from Soller acknowledged the good idea. She grabbed the corner of the desk with her free hand and tried to move it, but the desk was much heavier than it looked. She shored up her grip and put all her strength into pulling it toward her. A shrill screech erupted as the desk moved away from the wall, its metal legs protesting the effort. Soller’s eyes showed fear, a pained grimace frozen on her face.
“Holy shit,” she whispered.
The sudden sound of footsteps increased the tension.
“Get back to your chair,” the woman insisted.
Maria scurried back down the railing to the sound of scraping metal and slumped down into the chair. She stole a quick glance at the desk and saw that it was noticeably crooked. Her heart pounded in desperation as she saw the door open in her peripheral vision. Her eyes darted to the visitor, and the panic began to erase her senses. She took in a deep breath, and was too scared to realize she was holding it.
The visitor didn’t seem to notice the desk had moved, and just as he did the other times when he’d shown up, he avoided eye contact. He went through the same routine with his laptop. He plugged it into the jack and went to work punching commands into the keyboard. Soller strained to see what he was doing, but the text that scrolled on the screen didn’t mean anything to her.
After a couple of minutes, he stood up and grabbed his bag. The three women watched with dread as he sifted through its contents. He pulled out a USB drive and set the bag down before leaving the room.
Maria Soller turned to the others. “Oh my God, that was close.”
They nodded in agreement.
Soller waited for the footsteps to fade before she worked her way back to the desk. Her body formed a cross as she leaned toward the bag with the handcuff restraints supporting her weight. She was closer this time. Her fingernail made a scratching sound as it moved back and forth against the bag’s material trying to find a hold. Maria quickly removed her shoe and assumed the same position. This time she used its rubber sole to push the bag down against the desk and then pull it toward her.
“Bingo,” she said in victory. The word came out a little louder than she would have liked. A mixture of excitement and fear swirled through the air. “Sorry,” she said, her voice much softer this time.
Soller sifted through the bag for the charger. She raised the white cord into the air with a smile and pushed the bag back across the desk to where it was. She stretched out as far as she could, and was barely able to push the charger into the wall socket. The woman confirmed the coast was clear with an eager nod, so Soller pulled out her iPhone and used its length to seat the charger’s plug firmly into the socket. Her shoulders tensed up at the sound of the familiar beep that indicated power. They froze in the silence for a long moment, and then shared a celebratory look.
Maria Soller smiled and said, “Hot damn.”
Chapter 96
Washington, DC served as a breeding ground for political secrets. When it came to secrets, President Vincent Cross was no exception to the rule, and he had already carefully considered what he was about to do from every possible angle. He and FBI Deputy Director Ivor Hood barely knew each other, but Cross was a man who had risen to the highest office in the land with a keen instinct. Knowing whom he could trust and when to trust them was a skill that kept him several steps ahead of the game.
He had just finished getting everything he needed together when his guest arrived. He looked up as a secret service agent directed Hood into the Oval Office.
“Mr. President.” Hood nodded respectfully. “Thank you for taking the time to meet with me.”
The president stood up from his desk and approached him with his hand extended. “Assistant Director Hood,” the president said as he waved off the secret service agent. “Not a problem. This isn’t something that can wait.” He offered a tight smile.
The politician was a big fan of the handshake. It was a simple gesture, but one that conveyed a lot of information. The initial acceptance of the gesture, the firmness of the grip, the amount of shake, and the duration of the action all told a story. He would measure eye contact, spoken and body language when he sized a person up. Hood managed to pass his test with flying colors, but Cross had expected as much.
Hood’s face was full of concern.
“I appreciate your time,” he repeated nervously. The deputy director instinctively looked around to make sure they were alone. “They found my goddaughter’s car abandoned in Leesburg, Virginia. There wasn’t any blood, but it was parked well off the road behind some bushes.” Hood’s eyes hardened. “It doesn’t look good.”
The president motioned for Hood to have a seat on one of the two couches that were separated by a coffee table in the middle of the room.
“I’m sorry to hear that.”
When they were seated, the president pushed a white binder across the table between them. The binder was labeled NSPD 26: Intelligence Priorities and was dated February 26, 2003.
“Let’s not waste any more time then,” Cross said. “But before you open that…” the president leaned toward his visitor and locked eyes, “…I need to make something clear.”
Hood glanced down at the binder, and Cross waited for his recognition that the circulation of its contents had been extremely limited.
Hood’s eyes narrowed. “Of course.”
“Your source for this information is even more confidential than the information itself,” the president said in a tone that meant business.
“Yes, Mr. President. I understand.”
Cross gave him an approving nod, and the deputy director picked up the binder.