Fury From Within

Chapter Fifteen

Alice looked at the scribbling on the paper and nodded, “Thanks, sergeant, I’ll give this to my supervisor.” She abruptly closed the door behind her, walking back down the steps to where Michael Forsythe was still interrogating Boris.

“Michael, can I see you for a minute?” She motioned him over to an isolated part of the holding area, out of ear shot of Boris.

“What do we have Alice?”

Alice handed him the note.

“So, we have our man heading west do we? Well, I guess we can tell our Russian friend here the good news,” turning back to face Boris. “We have located your friend running west, probably heading towards Washington or south to Norfolk. Which one is it Boris? Is he returning to your old stomping grounds in DC?”

Alice leaned over to Forsythe, whispering in his ear about the Washington and Philadelphia maps that were found in the suspect’s car.

“Forsythe clapped his hands together. “Boris, the pieces of the puzzle keep coming together, even without your help.” He walked back over to where Boris sat handcuffed to the metal chair.

Boris looked tired. The exertion, both mental and physical, had taken its toll. He struggled to hold up his head. “I still don’t know what you are talking about Michael. I am a simple Russian citizen who has come to vacation at your lovely beaches. Since my arrival, I have been insulted and assaulted by your police.”

Forsythe delivered yet another nasty blow to the face, opening up a second cut below his right eye. “Cut the crap Boris. Answer truthfully to the next question or so help me God, I’ll pummel you senseless. You and your accomplice will not harm any of our citizens, not on my watch son. I swear on my mother’s grave it will not happen. If I kill you here, we can save the American taxpayer a lot of money. Answer the damn question.”

Boris realized Michael meant business. His face beet red, eyes bulging, and he honestly believed he would kill him if provided the chance. The time for a deal never quite surfaced, thinking it was out of the question. It was time for Boris to save what he could and the hell with the young Muslim. Boris tried to salvage some dignity, sitting up straight, wiping the blood from his face.

“All right, Michael, you win. I will answer your questions as truthfully and honestly as I can.”

Forsythe had to be restrained by his fellow agents.

“That’s the same shit you said hours ago Boris and look where we are!” he screamed.

Boris chalked one up for himself, one of the few he could attest too. He was able to upset the esteemed Michael Forsythe just enough for him to lose his sense of judgment in front of his subordinates. Known in his FSB dossier as a cool customer, that notion would be updated to reflect today’s actions. The game tilted in Boris’s favor, but not for long. He had to start feeding Michael some relevant information, or he might pay dearly, possibly with his life.

Boris nodded his thanks to each agent for saving him from yet another beating.

“Michael, the man I agreed to meet down here is an agent for the Chechnya government,” Boris stating the first factual bit of information after nine hours of harsh interrogation.

Forsythe took his time wiping blood from Boris’s face with a handkerchief. “Okay Boris, let’s start fresh,” he said in a barely audible tone. “The man you met with on the Ocean City Boardwalk, who did he work for? What is his name?” He motioned for one of his fellow agents to release the handcuffs as a sign of good will.

“Like I said before Michael, the man works for the Chechnya government. He is a rebel freedom fighter, recruited to become an agent of his government.” Boris paused and then held a handkerchief to the cut above his eye to stem the flow of blood.

Boris continued. “From what I have heard thru my sources, he went to Syria to train for a mission to be executed in the United States. He is now operating under the alias of a Peter Zar….. something or another. I can’t remember the rest of his name.”

Forsythe had a gut feeling that Boris was ready to spill everything. His back was to the wall, and he knew it.

Boris struggled to look at his watch, blood still trickling down, obscuring his vision; he brought his Platinum Rolex up to several inches from his right eye. “I can feed you one juicy tidbit of information,” he said, looking around at his captor’s as they awaited his next disclosure. Boris loved to play the game of chess since mastering the game at a young age and this would be a masterful move, enabling him to extract a “Draw” from a situation only minutes before was a “Checkmate.”

“You will have to pardon me Michael, my eyes are not what they used to be,” he said, allowing the agents in the room to emit a brief chuckle considering the situation. “For this bit of information you will allow me to continue to New York to catch a Swiss Air flight to Geneva. I promise you that after you hear my information, I will be the least bit of your problems.”

Forsythe took a deep breath, smiling at Alice, shaking his head at what hours of interrogation had yielded. “I will promise you this much, Boris. If the information you provide is substantial and I mean substantial, I will take your terms under advisement. I might even consider flying you to New York myself if it’s juicy enough!”

It was Boris’ turn to smile about the room for he was about to take his opponent’s queen and end the game. “Michael, may I bother you for a glass of water,” pointing to the pitcher on the table in the center of the room. “I’m a bit parched from all of this heat.”

He watched as Alice obliged and filled the glass, handing it to him.

He downed the content in one swift tilt of the glass, his first drink since they had started the beatings.

“Michael, I would suggest you warm up your jet for me,” looking from agent to agent in order to build up the suspense, convinced he held their rapt attention before continuing.

“In approximately 10 hours, one of your American cities will lose its entire downtown area in a small nuclear explosion.”

Checkmate.