Her Sweet Liberation: Billionaire Secrets - Book Six Page 7

  "They'll knock just one more time Vasily."

  "Open the door Vasily." Dale shouted at him. "I'm tied up with a knife to my neck. They'll give you your money, trust me, I'll make sure of it."

  Another heavy knock battered at the door as Vasily stared feverishly into Dale's eyes, desperately trying to read his impassionate face.

  He jammed the phone back to his mouth.

  "Wait." He said. "You have money with you?"

  "It's outside in a truck. We'll guarantee you safe passage out of the country or to wherever you want to go. Just as long as Mr. Hargrave is unharmed."

  Vasily scanned the open space and re-counted his men. He had eleven in total. Was this a bluff? It would take at least a SWAT team to take them out. All of his men had Russian military training. Whoever these people thought they were they would be in for a horrendous surprise if they dared to take him and his men on.

  "Okay." He said. "We open door and one person come in. You. No more. I want to see truck in front of door and I want see money. You bring money to me."

  "You open the door and let me see Hargrave. I will hold my weapon in one hand and carry the money in the other. The door will remain open where my people will cover me. Do you understand."

  "Just you. No weapon. Or Hargrave die. Very quickly."

  "And then all of your men die and we take you to a place where you will pray for death every day for the rest of your natural life. We aren't the police Vasily. We'll do whatever the fuck we want with you until we get bored and then hand you over to someone else who hates you even more than we do. If we can't find anyone then we'll bury you alive in a box and film your last hours of breath for your family to watch back in Russia."

  Vasily ran his fingers through his hair. If this was a bluff it was a good one, a daring one. Like something he himself would have come up within his younger days.

  But still it was a bluff. These were rich Americans, business people, not the mob. Respectable western business people did not bury people alive in boxes and film them choking to death.

  "No weapon." He shouted. "Or he die. End of fucking story."

  "Vasily." Dale said, as though speaking to a nervous employee. "Let me speak to him."

  Vasily put the phone on speaker and put it to Dale's mouth.

  "Ruben. Leave your weapon down. There's twelve of them--"

  Vasily punched Dale's head back and he grunted with pain. "No weapons." He shouted into the phone and then ended the call. He nodded to Piotr to go and open the door.

  All eleven men stood with Kalashnikovs and Uzi's at the ready. Vasily stepped behind Dale, pressed the blade into his throat and then watched as daylight streamed into the somber artificial light of the warehouse. One tall man, dressed from head to toe in body armor stood with his hands in the air.

  A chunky metallic suitcase lay at his feet, behind him was a truck and the silhouettes of several more people, all equally well equipped.

  Dale watched, waiting for the signal, whatever it would be, to hold his breath. Three red dots merged on Piotr's chest with another to his forehead. Vasily tightened his grip on Dale's chin and then shouted at Piotr in Russian. The twitching mob soldier stooped to pick up the bag but Ruben pushed him back.

  "Piotr take fucking bag or I cut fucking throat." Vasily shouted in desperate exasperation.

  Ruben stared at the mobster and then tapped his own forehead. Beams of red light instantly converged on Vasily's brow. He hissed a curse in Russian and then nodded to Ruben to come in. With his usual calm the master negotiator picked up the case and advanced into the room, the barrels of eleven weapons pointing straight at him. Looking around he saw a table in the middle of the space. He set the case down there and then looked at Vasily.

  "Ruben Mayweather." He said. "And you must be Vasily Petrov."

  "Show me fucking money." Vasily hissed, unnerved by Ruben's calm.

  Ruben nodded.

  "There's one million in the case. The other ninety-nine are in the truck. Come take a look."

  "Piotr." Vasily shouted. "Check case."

  Piotr slung his weapon around him and walked cautiously towards Ruben who stood back out of his way.

  "You open." Vasily said to Ruben who looked calmly back at him and smiled.

  "Whatever. As soon as you are happy we make the swap. Your men can take the money away and my people will retreat. Piotr and you can stay here with me and set Mr. Hargrave free. After that I never want to see either of you again."

  "See money first." Vasily was beginning to sweat, and his men were getting increasingly twitchy. None of this had been part of the plan.

  Ruben looked at Dale and winked.

  "Shall I show him the money?" He said.

  Dale nodded and then slowly took in a deep, deep breath. Ruben turned to the case and released the catches simultaneously on both sides.

  "Are you ready?" Ruben said.

  Dale nodded his head.

  "Open fucking case." Vasily shouted and pressed his blade deeper to Dale's throat.

  Ruben popped the lid and a massive dust cloud exploded into the room. Dale felt the blade press dangerously deep to his flesh but then go slack and fall away. When the air cleared there was an eerie silence.

  Ruben had ducked to the floor and now jumped up to grab the back of Dale's chair. He dragged it to the door as Vasily and his men looked on in a daze. When they were finally outside and far away from the warehouse entrance Dale at last released his breath and gasped for air.

  Ruben set to slicing through the cable ties and rope that held him in place.

  "Is that the really the best you could do?" Dale said. "Scopolamine?"

  "They started it." Ruben said. "Besides, it's the most humane way of disabling a roomful of psychopathic, evil mobsters that I can think of." He signaled his people to go in and gather up the group to be loaded into the waiting van.

  "Now we just have to figure out what to do with them. Twelve mobsters, twelve loose ends. This is getting to be a bad habit."

  Dale stood up from the chair and rubbed his wrists.

  "I guess I've got some explaining to do." He said.

  "Not at all. In fact, it's all very clear. You fucked a journalist who was involved with the mob and they kidnapped you for ransom. Not exactly your most shining moment big guy."

  Dale didn't see the humor.

  "You just possibly saved me from having my throat slit which is the reason I haven’t slugged you in the jaw. In fact, you have no clue what you're talking about. Lindsay has no intention of publishing anything."

  Ruben put his hand to Dale's shoulder and pulled a small tablet computer from a side pocket on his combat pants. He held it up for his friend to see the AltNews front page with its billionaire brothers lead story including his own taped confession.

  "I'm sorry Dale." Ruben squeezed his friend's shoulder. "But she used you. It could happen to anyone."

  Dale shook his head. "No way. It can’t be. There's an explanation, I guarantee you. We have to find her."

  "There's an explanation alright, just now one you want to hear. Lindsay Day is an investigative journalist. She couldn't resist your story. It's as simple as that. We need to lean on her to deny this story is real and deny that's you speaking on that recording. Clay is at her place right now."

  "What?"

  "He's convinced her to deny everything in this story and then disappear."

  "He can't do that."

  "He already has."

  "But this isn't her fault."

  "It's all her fault. She's admitted it and she's already on a plane out of here."

  "To where?"

  "She doesn't want you to know and the truth is that you don’t need to know."

  Dale knocked Ruben's hand from his shoulder.

  "This is bullshit and you know it. Now you tell me where to find her or the relationship between Mayweather and Hargrave is finished."

  "You aren't Hargrave Dale, Clayton is on board with this." Ruben's demeanor hardene
d. "In case you hadn't noticed, we're still cleaning up your mess here, not to mention the damn story that's been leaked because you couldn't stay in control of your co--"

  "Shut up Ruben. Lindsay isn't the only outsider to know about Point Nemo. What about your little submissive or whatever the hell it is you call her?"

  "She's not a submissive. That's not what I'm into."

  "I don’t give a fuck what you're into, but I do know that you're every bit as fucked up as I am and you put your entire organization on the line to get your kicks with that computer geek."

  "Computer geek Dale, computer geek. Not a financially insecure investigative journalist willing to literally screw her next story out of a of sexually damaged billionaire with a lifetime of secrets to hide."

  The words were too much.

  Dale lashed out but Ruben was too quick and struck back powerfully. The team of security operatives were momentarily paralyzed. Ruben and Dale were equally important. The indecision lasted a split second only and then they were on it, separating the two large men as carefully as they could to avoid hurting either of them or risk being fired in the process. When the two were apart and had calmed down enough their employees released them.

  It was a bizarre scenario for everyone.

  The friends had never fought like this in all the years they had known each other but that unspoken shared experience of theirs was still too raw, even after all these years. Nothing else could have caused them to spill over this way.

  "She's gone and there's nothing you can do about it." Ruben said, dusting himself off.

  "Fuck that." Dale said, and then looked around at Ruben's SWAT team." Somebody get me out of here." He barked.

  Ruben's men hesitated but their boss gave them the all clear.

  "Take him wherever he wants to go." He said.

  The two burly men holding Dale back now began dusting him off and then directed him to a vehicle.

  "Where would you like to go Mr. Hargrave?"

  Good question. Where the hell should he go now?

  Chapter Five

  When Nadia listened to the message on her phone a pang of relief tinged with guilt ran through her. Lindsay Day wanted to talk. At long last she wanted to talk.

  After she had been convinced to disappear it had taken Nadia and Suzy only a matter of minutes to shut down Marco's website with a powerful denial of service attack. Then they had hacked into his servers as well as his personal computers, taken control, and deleted every copy of the audio file they could find. Later on Ruben and Clayton had taken care of the original copy and with Lindsay Day unavailable for comment and prepared to deny everything even if located, the story was effectively shut down.

  Weeks had gone by in relative calm, but Nadia felt increasingly uneasy. Without being exactly sure why, she had given her number to the broken looking investigative reporter before she was escorted away by Clayton's people, but she still hadn't received a call. Despite what Clay said about her there was something about the woman and her story that reminded her of her own crazy relationship to Clayton before they had become a 'normal' couple. They had been half at war with each other before they fell in love and she had had her own moment of despair when she had nearly given it all up for lost. She had recognized that same feeling in Lindsay's eyes as Ruben and Clay reasoned her into a corner. She had looked at Nena and seen a beautiful little girl in danger of losing her first true hero and role model in life.

  On an impulse she had scribbled her personal number on the back of a business card and pressed it into Lindsay's hand without anyone seeing.

  Since then it had become all she could think about so when she heard the woman's scared voice on the phone she immediately dialed her back, fixing the call with a tracer just in case.

  The phone rang nearly seven times before anyone picked up. It was finally answered - with silence.

  "Hello." Nadia said softly. "Is that you Lindsay?"

  "Ms. Komerov… you gave me your number a while back…"

  "I know and I'm so glad you called…." She wanted to say more but held back. She had no idea what emotional state the woman might be in.

  "Why would did you do that? Why did you give me your number?"

  "I've asked myself the same question, but I keep getting different answers."

  "What's your latest one?"

  "Okay, well, I guess that would be because I don’t believe you ever sold Dale out and I don’t believe you were treated fairly."

  "Well forget that. I sold him out in every way possible. I sold myself out and I sold Nena out as well. I was treated more than fairly."

  "Have they taken care of you? I mean Clayton and Ruben? Have they looked after you and Nena? They won’t say anything about where you chose to go or what you're doing now."

  "Maybe it's because they don't know."

  Alarm bells began to ring in Nadia's head. This woman was in a very lonely place, that was for sure. It was a place she had experienced herself all too recently and she didn't intend to abandon her or her niece there. She would need to act fast but also tread with extreme caution to prevent any extreme reaction from the distraught woman.

  "Do you want to tell me where you are? Where you are right now?"

  "That's not why I'm calling."

  "Okay. So, why are you calling?"

  There was a nervous pause. The sound of Lindsay's trembling breath punctuating the silence.

  "I just need… I just need to find out how he is. That's all. I think about him all the time." Her emotions began to overcome her. "I'm sorry." She said. "It's just that we had become very close before things went…before they went wrong. Both of us had become very close to him, I mean Nena and I. I'm sorry."

  Nadia heard a stifled sob. Was this for real or was it a scam to get back her old life again? But if it was true that Ruben and Clayton didn’t know where she was….

  "He's worried about you." Nadia said. "He did everything to try and find you but Ruben is very good at what he does and Clayton has done everything he can to get in his way as well."

  "It wouldn't matter anyway. If he did ever find me I wouldn't go back to him anyway. All I did was mess up his life and for what? Justice for Mikhail Boyevik who never gave justice to anyone in his whole rotten life? I'm sure whatever they did to him he deserved it and more."

  The words were hard for Nadia to hear. He was still her father although it was apparent that the ex-reporter had never found this out. It also seemed clear that she still had no idea what had happened to her father either.

  "Didn't Dale ever tell you what happened?"

  "No he didn’t, but from what I gather it wasn’t very pretty. It's the one thing I can’t quite get past. I know someone like Boyevik deserved to die but he also deserved due process. If the Hargraves carried out some kind of summary execution then they aren't any better than he is. I'm sorry if that hurts Nadia, I know you're involved with Clayton, but it's the truth."

  "Boyevik isn't dead Lindsay."

  "I already heard Dale's story about the witness protection program and working with the Feds but I don’t buy it. If he wanted me to believe that then all he had to do was give me some evidence."

  "But why should he? You're a journalist - your duty is to the public not to Dale or his company or to the people who depend on him for their jobs and careers."

  "He should have given me evidence because this is a free and open democracy we live in and this is a big story. I'm pretty damn sure the shareholders in both Hargrave and Mayweather Incs would like to know what their CEOs are getting up to, especially if it's illegal."

  Nadia didn't answer. She couldn't deny the truth of what Lindsay was saying and it was clear that she had ended up being the victim in all of this. Her and Nena who had nothing at all to do with anything. If she couldn't give her back her old life then maybe at least she could give her the truth about what really happened. Surely she deserved at least that much after all she and Nena had been put through and who better to give her the tru
th than the woman who had started the whole chain of events in the first place? After all, this whole mess had all begun when she had decided to testify against her own father all those years ago. In the long chain of events even this woman and her little girl had been sucked into her catastrophe of a life without any choice in the matter. In one sense she was as responsible for ruining their lives as anybody else.

  "Listen to me." Lindsay said. "I'm speaking like I'm still a reporter when all I am is another of America's…." She stopped short. It was too painful and too much to reveal. She looked over at Nena in the playground she had brought her to. How much longer would she really be able to take care of her?

  "I'll tell you everything." Nadia said. "The whole story. But I need to meet with you. That's my only condition."

  Lindsay held the phone away from her and stared it in shock. The truth was the last thing she had expected when she had decided to make the call. All she had really wanted was to talk to someone who knew Dale and who might be able to understand something of what she was going through. Someone to whom she could speak freely about the events that had ruined her life. Meeting with this woman would be pointless and it would put her in danger of being found again.

  But still something in Nadia's voice made her want to place her trust in her.

  "I don’t care about the truth anymore." She said. "I only called because I needed someone to talk to. If Dale killed that evil bastard I don't care. I'll never see him again anyway."

  "You need to know this Lindsay. Dale isn’t a killer and neither is Clayton. It was me that told them what to do with Boyevik and I'm not a killer either. Tell me where you are and I'll come and meet you. Neutral territory. No Hargraves, no Mayweather. Trust me, you need to know what happened and it sounds to me like you could use a friend as well."

  Lindsay put her hand to her mouth to stifle the sob. A friend was definitely what she needed right now, but recognizing who a friend was seemed to be the hardest thing in the world to do.

  "Lindsay, you've got to trust me." Nadia looked up at her laptop screen and saw that the tracer had nailed it. Lindsay was in California, somewhere in South LA, but she was using a payphone. As soon as she hung up she would disappear into the city again.