The Killing Chase (Beach & Riley Book 2) Page 24

  Ugolev complied, leaning down to wipe dust from the rug before lowering himself onto it. He crossed his legs and sat quietly as though meditating. Dozer gave him a satisfied grin then moved Priest’s hand from his shoulder in order to examine his wound. The Ukrainian doctor looked over at the brothers and called out, “Is there an exit wound?”

  Priest pulled at his brother’s torn shirtsleeve to look underneath. “Yeah, it went right through.”

  “You are a soldier, no? You know basic field medicine? Make yourself useful. Take some disinfectant and bandages. I’m busy.”

  Priest shot the old man a killing glare, but walked over to the coffee table. He reached for a bottle of saline solution, some povidone iodine, and a bundle of gauze dressings. The doctor looked up from Shane’s wound to point a bloodied finger at a syringe preloaded with clear liquid. “Give your brother that shot of antibiotics. I will not need it.”

  “What the hell is that supposed to mean?” Jake’s arm shot out to grab Doctor Yovenko by the throat. “Listen to me. This is not a threat – it’s a promise. If Shane dies, you die.”

  As the doctor glared back at Jake, Shane Burton reached up and placed his hand gently on his brother’s extended arm. Jake turned to look at Shane’s face smiling weakly beneath him. “We’ve both seen wounds like this before, little brother,” Shane said. “You know there’s nothing he can do.”

  Jake wasn’t ready to accept reality. Logic and reason were losing the battle with emotion. “Bullshit! Do something – now!”

  Despite his threats, Yovenko felt for Jake – and the man he knew as Vladimir Petrov. He sighed and reached to the table for a large-bore syringe and a brown glass bottle. He drew liquid up from the bottle until the syringe was almost full then grabbed a clear glass ampoule. He snapped off the top and drew the contents up to mix with the other liquid, then removed the needle from the instrument, leaving the stumpy plastic tip open. Carefully then, Yovenko manipulated the knife handle in Shane’s belly to allow access for the nub of the syringe. He spoke without looking up as he irrigated along both sides of the blade, “This is my own formula. It’s a mixture of lignocaine and cocaine solution for the pain, and adrenaline chloride to slow the bleeding. But you will have to face reality. The laceration to your brother’s liver is too severe. Even in an operating theater, there would be virtually no hope. There is too much damage.”

  Jake’s face turned bright red with anger and frustration. With a small burst of vigor from the cocaine and adrenaline, Shane squeezed hard on his brother’s arm. “Grow a pair, soldier,” he growled. “Killing the doctor will get us nowhere. You know damned well there’s nothing more he can do, and we have precious little time. The rest of Ugolev’s soldiers are on their way, and I have things to tell you before you get your team out of here.”

  His big brother had always had a way of controlling Jake’s emotions. The former Delta Force soldier forced his anger down to face the reality of their situation. He nodded solemnly and turned to the doctor. “Leave us,” Jake said. “Go take care of Dozer.”

  Priest was holding the syringe of antibiotics up to the light as Doctor Yovenko got up from the sofa. “Just antibiotics, eh, doc?” Priest said. “How do I know it’s not poison or something?”

  Yovenko snatched the syringe from Priest and jabbed it into his own arm. He depressed the plunger, injecting a third of the contents into himself before pulling the needle out. “Satisfied?” he said, replacing the needle with a fresh one. Then he pushed Priest to one side. “Get out of my way, stupid boy.”

  “He’s got some balls,” Dozer said to his brother. “Better let the man do his thing.”

  With Priest looking on suspiciously, Dr. Yovenko injected the antibiotics into Dozer then worked to clean his wounds before throwing a couple of large mattress stitches into each side of the big man’s shoulder.

  Across the room meanwhile, Shane Burton spoke quietly with his younger brother, Nicholas. “I’m guessing it was you who chose the name Jake Riley,” he said, smiling. “You always did have a soft spot for the Irish.”

  Jake did his best to master his emotions and maintain composure. “I guess the CIA’s identity nerds knew me well enough to pick something suitable,”

  “Sounds about right.” Shane looked into his younger brother’s slate grey eyes. “I’m sorry, Jake. I wish I could have told you and spared you all the pain I’ve caused. But the mission was too important, and too fragile.”

  Shane suddenly winced. Jake panicked, looking toward the doctor, but Shane squeezed his arm again. “It’s okay, little brother. I knew the risks. This operation was always going to be the end of me, but I had to do it anyway.”

  “Why?” Jake pleaded. “What was so damned important you had to keep it from me? And for so damned long!”

  “There’s no time to explain. For now, just know that I did it for our family.”

  “For our family? What does that mean?”

  “There’s no other way to say this. So I’m just going to say it. Mom and Dad’s plane crash was no accident.”

  Jake’s mind was spinning. On top of everything, his supposedly dead brother was now telling him their parents had been murdered. He shook his head violently then leaned to whisper into his brother’s ear. “What’re you talking about? Both the NTSB and the Canadian authorities certified it was an accident.”

  “That’s what they wanted us to believe,”

  “Who the hell are they?”

  “That’s what I can’t tell you here and now.”

  Jake roiled with frustration. “There is nothing but here and now. You’re the one who keeps pointing that out.”

  As Jake looked deep into Shane’s eyes, sorrow overcame him. He realized the last conversation he would ever have with his brother was ending in anger. And he couldn’t allow that. He clasped his brother’s right hand in his and cupped his left hand gently over the side of Shane’s face. “I’m sorry, Shane. I know you wouldn’t have done what you did without the right reasons.”

  Shane smiled up. “My little brother. You’re not that skinny, awkward kid anymore,”

  Extreme blood loss was winning the war. Shane’s eyes began to close, but Jake shook him back from the edge. “So tired,” Shane said, forcing himself to focus. “You have to get to Director Ballantyne at the CIA. He and I were the only ones who knew my cover. He knows the truth about Mom and Dad – about this undercover operation. Tell him what happened – you’ve got to get him to let you take over from here. The mission is too important to fail. Leave Ugolev alive – you’re going to need him. I’m depending on you, Nick. Now get out of here before reinforcements arrive.”

  Before Jake could stop him, Shane reached down and pulled the knife from his belly. Dark blood oozed out to pool around his gaping wound, and his eyes closed again. Jake shook him hard, but got back only a faint whisper from his elder brother. “I’m sorry, Nicholas – I really am. I love you, brother.”

  “I love you too, brother,” Jake said as Shane sighed deeply and closed his eyes for the last time. “Shane? Shane?” Jake shook his brother again, but he was gone.

  Jake stood, gazing down at the man he’d looked up to; the child he’d grown up with; the brother he thought he’d lost years ago. A strange calm came over him. There was no urgent stabbing pain like he’d felt four years earlier when he was notified by the Department of the Navy that Shane had been killed in action. Time had changed Jake; changed his reactions and personality. And last time there’d been no proof, no body to bring home. This time he’d been here for Shane – not thousands of miles away, God knows where, on some long-forgotten and probably futile mission for the CIA or the DoD. This time was real. This time Jake knew for sure. Shane Burton was gone.

  Jake turned to face the room. Dozer and Priest returned his stare, while Yovenko and Ugolev stared at Shane’s body. Mike Lee lay quietly on the floor, holding his leg wound. Priest broke the awkward silence. “Witnesses?” he said, nodding to Ugolev and the doctor. Then he point
ed to Lee. “And that piece of shit?”

  Jake moved toward Lee. “Ugolev and the doctor live. You, on the other hand,” Jake grabbed Lee by the front of his shirt, pulling his face close, “You’ve known me a very long time. You know there are no limits to what I’ll do. Talk now, or suffer the consequences – your choice.”

  “I’m sorry, Jake,” Lee said, turning eyes to the floor. “I didn’t know about Shane, I really didn’t.”

  “Spit it out, Mike – my patience is gone. If you want to survive this mess, tell me why you did it right now or I’ll force it out of you, then leave you to Ugolev’s men. And give me the short version – we’re out of time.”

  “I had no choice. They said if Ugolev doesn’t die, they’ll kill me.”

  “Who said that and why?”

  “Romanian gangsters. I owe them a lot of money. I had no way to pay them back. They know what I used to do, so they gave me an ultimatum. I kill Ugolev, and they wipe the slate clean – and I walk away with a quarter million dollars. Or they start cutting pieces off me.”

  “Romanian?” Ugolev interrupted, “What Roma–” but Priest kicked him in the ribs.

  “Shut up, Russki.” the Australian growled. Ugolev gave him a defiant look, but held his tongue.

  “What Romanians?” Jake shook Lee hard.

  “They run drugs and illegal gambling dens all over Europe,” Lee said. “And these guys aren’t screwing around, Jake. You’re the only guy I know who could get to someone as powerful as Ugolev, so I made up the story about him killing Shane. I’m sorry, man.” Tears streamed from Lee’s eyes. “The boss is a guy called Gyorgi Albescu.”

  Ugolev almost stood, but Priest dropped his foot onto the Russian’s crossed leg.

  “Let him talk,” Jake said.

  “Your stupid friend is running from a ghost,” Ugolev scoffed. “My brigadier, Vladimir Petrov – the man you keep calling Shane – just killed Albescu. But the treacherous snake must have known I’d ordered his death. He’s the one who killed Vladimir. But not before my men took out Albescu’s entire crew.”

  Lee did a double take. “Albescu’s dead?”

  “Cold as stone, you idiot,” Ugolev replied. “Vladimir there put a crystal bolt through his brain less than an hour ago.”

  “I don’t give a damn about this Albescu guy,” Jake said. “Why the hell didn’t you just come to me with the truth in the first place? You know I could have helped you.”

  Lee shrunk away. “I was ashamed – I did some really stupid shit to get myself into that position. And Albescu’s a seriously bad dude.”

  “Was a seriously bad dude.” Jake stood, dragging Lee’s entire mass up with one hand. “This ain’t over – not by a long shot. You’re coming with us, and you’re going to tell me everything.”

  Lee was both frightened and relieved. He didn’t want to stay behind and face Ugolev’s men. He also knew he would now face Jake’s full wrath, yet secretly hoped his longtime friend would show him mercy. “I’ll do exactly what you say, Jake – I’m so sorry.”

  “Save it. You’ll have to limp your way out of here. I think you know better than to try anything stupid.” Jake tossed him a long bandage from the coffee table. “Wrap it quickly. We’re outta here in ten seconds. You ready, boys?”

  “Affirmative,” Dozer and Priest answered together. Lee, meanwhile, wound the bandage around his thigh, pulling it tight and tying off the end. Dozer and Priest were already halfway to the door while Jake leaned down to push his muscular arms between the sofa and his brother’s body. In one movement, he picked Shane up and turned to carry him out of the room.

  As he made his way through the door, Jake turned to Ugolev. “This isn’t over.”

  “Until next time, Jake Riley.”

  Chapter 35

  “Nice ride,” Dozer said, reclining in the back of the limo they’d stolen from Ugolev’s compound. “That Russki’s got expensive tastes.”

  “Stick to the speed limit,” Jake called out to Priest behind the wheel, “and don’t do anything to attract attention.”

  “No worries, Jake,” Priest said, guiding the big Mercedes through back streets. “Just be thankful Dozer ain’t driving.”

  “Hey,” the injured Australian called out to his brother. “It’s not my fault the coppers have got it out for me. They’ve got no appreciation for quality driving skills.”

  Jake glared at Dozer. He was in no mood for the Aussies’ banter.

  “Sorry, mate,” Dozer said, comically trying to shrink his huge form into the leather seat. “I tend to overcompensate with humor.”

  “I’m well aware of your tendencies,” Jake said. “And I appreciate everything you and Priest have done, but please shut the hell up.”

  Now with only muffled road noise permeating the subdued luxury of the limo’s spacious black leather interior, Jake turned his attention to Mike Lee. In the broad bench-seat opposite, the crestfallen former CIA man squirmed under Jake’s piercing glare. Lee appeared childishly small beside Shane Burton’s oversized lifeless body. With no choice and no escape, Lee was lying in a bed of his own making; completely at Jake’s mercy.

  “We’re going to drop you off outside the U.S. Embassy,” Jake broke the silence. “They’ll be able to treat your wound and get you safely out of the country. I expect you to make sure Shane’s body is treated with respect and shipped to New York on the next available transport.”

  “But Jake,” Lee protested, “how am I supposed to explain all this?”

  “You’re a smart guy, Mike – figure it out. You must know how to get to the station chief,” Jake reached out and squeezed Lee’s knee firmly. “Just get it done.”

  Lee nodded.

  “Now,” Jake said, leaning back, “I’ve given you more patience and leeway than I’d give any other man in your position. Spill your guts or Priest will turn the car around, and we’ll dump you back at Ugolev’s. And no more apologies – you’re making me sick.”

  Lee looked at Jake as would a scorned child. He knew he had no option but to follow instructions; Jake Riley was not a man prone to idle threats. The Surgeon would have ended any other man instantly for doing what Lee had done.

  “I know I should have come to you, Jake, but I lost it after you left. I shouldn’t have retired when I did – should’ve taken a desk job or something instead. I’d been with the CIA so long, I couldn’t handle reality. I ended up floating around from place to place in Europe until I met a woman. I thought it was love, but before I knew it, she’d nearly bled me dry.

  “We were partying like there was no tomorrow, snorting cocaine like candy, and blowing through my retirement funds. When she realized I didn’t have a bottomless pit of money, she packed her shit and disappeared. I know it’s a cliché, but I was naïve and clueless. I really loved that bitch – and she stuck a dagger through my heart. I started drinking hard, and gambling at these secret, illegal back-room joints.

  “At first, I was winning big. I thought I might be able to get back on my feet and start again – a little older and wiser. But then my luck turned bad – real bad. By the time I figured out the whole thing was a setup, I was in so deep, there was no coming back. When they wouldn’t give me any more credit, some goons grabbed me from the blackjack table and dragged me into the basement. One of Albescu’s lieutenants told me who I owed money to, and what would happen if I didn’t pay up. But I was bone-dry. No way my pension would cover the interest, let alone what I owed.

  “They would’ve started cutting me up right there and then if I hadn’t told them about the CIA. The head guy made a call, and the next thing I knew, I was in some dungeon hellhole chained to a wall. It must’ve been two days before they came back for me. I was starving and nearly delirious from thirst when Albescu showed up with his bodyguards. While I sat there covered in my own piss and shit, he stood above me in his fancy suit and laid out my options.

  “I had no choice, Jake. I would’ve taken a bullet to the head if that’d been on the table,
but it wasn’t an option. Albescu’s guys stood there holding hammers and hacksaws. They said they’d make it last for days if I didn’t do what Albescu wanted. He told me I would have to use any means I could to kill a rival crime boss called Sergey Ugolev.

  “I couldn’t think straight so I said I’d do it. They gave me some water and food and cleaned me up. By the time my brain-fog lifted, things had started to sink in. One of Albescu’s guys injected a tracking device into my neck, and I was theirs. I know the tracker they used – this is some seriously advanced tech. I knew if I tried to get the thing out, they would have had me – and they’d already proven the length of their reach. There was no way out.

  “I knew there was no chance I could get to Ugolev on my own. The guy’s been so powerful for so long, he was even on the CIA’s radar back when I was still active. So I thought of you. I knew if anyone could get to Ugolev, it was the Surgeon. I figured if I gave you the right motivation, there’d be no questions asked. And before any shit could hit any fan, Ugolev would be gone, I’d have my life back, and you’d have some closure over your brother’s death. I swear to God, I had no idea Shane was still alive and undercover with Ugolev’s crew.”

  Despite the overwhelming coincidence, Jake knew from his brother’s dying words that Lee couldn’t have known of Shane’s falsified death and clandestine mission. But he wasn’t about to give his former CIA handler any kind of resolution. “Closure, my ass,” Jake said, pointing a finger at Lee. “You used me. And killing Ugolev wouldn’t have meant a damned thing. It was all bullshit.”

  “I know it wouldn’t have been real, Jake, but you wouldn’t have known that.”

  “Ignorance is not bliss, Mike.” Jake was looking out the window deep in thought, but now turned back to Lee. “Since you’re so concerned about yourself, here’s what’s going to happen. Technically, you’ve done nothing illegal, so I’ll tell that to Director Ballantyne. Your pension will be unaffected, and you’ll still be alive. But you’re dead to me. Go and live your life – do what retired people do. But don’t ever contact me again. If you ever hear from me, you’ll do exactly what I say, exactly how and when I say. Maybe one day you can be useful again, but don’t hold your breath.”