Redemption

Chapter 79

When Decker came to, he had a vision of something that felt familiar. When he opened his eyes fully and looked around, he understood why.

He was in the Richardses’ old home, sitting on the floor.

In the kitchen, where Don Richards and David Katz had died. He felt the zip ties around his wrists and ankles.

He looked next to him and saw Jamison and Mars similarly bound. They were staring across at the doorway where a man was standing.

Bill Peyton, or more correctly, Yuri Egorshin, did not seem like a happy man.

There were three other men in the room. They all looked tough, hardened, chips of iron with guns in their hands. Decker didn’t recognize any of them from the American Grill. To him, they all looked like muscle. Russian muscle, which was pretty damn intimidating.

Egorshin pulled up a chair and sat down opposite the three bound people.

“You have royally messed up my work, Decker,” he said quietly. “I hope you realize that.”

“Well, it’s sort of my job.”

“If the optics weren’t so bad and other... conditions not so adverse to me, I could probably beat your bullshit search at the Grill. You found all that stuff without a warrant. None of it would be admissible.”

“Yeah, but the whole Russian spy thing? I’m not sure the Fourth Amendment really applies to protect people like you.”

“And there we have the limits of the democracy you Americans tout so fiercely.”

Decker glanced out the window into the darkness. “I’m surprised that you would bring us here.”

“What? You mean witnesses? Are you concerned the DeAngelos might have seen us?” Egorshin stopped and his lips set in a firm line. “You don’t have to worry about them. Whatever they might have seen, they will be able to tell no one about.”

“You didn’t have to do that,” said Decker grimly, his features turning angry.

“Do you know what Mr. DeAngelo told me right before I put a bullet in his head?”

Decker said nothing.

“He told me that all he wanted to do was retire down south. I saved him the expense. And I needed... privacy, to deal with you and your friends.”

Decker felt sick to his stomach about the fate of the DeAngelos. He said, “You’ve wasted a lot of time hanging around here. You could be gone from the country. Now it’s too late. It’s death penalty time for you.”

“Please don’t worry about me. I’m well provided for. I have assets in places you couldn’t even imagine.”

“I don’t know, my imagination is pretty good. And if you’re thinking about Peter Childress, you better have other assets.”

“This does not concern me in the least.”

“Why’s that?”

“For the same reasons that the DeAngelos do not concern me.”

Jamison blurted out, “You had Childress killed?”

Egorshin looked at his watch. “With confirmation twenty minutes ago. No, the assets of which I speak go far higher than a police superintendent in a nothing place like this.”

“What do you want with us?”

“After every intelligence operation there must be a debriefing.” Egorshin spread his hands wide. “So this, this is my debriefing.”

“We’re not going to tell you anything,” barked Jamison.

“I cannot tell you how many times I have heard that over the course of my career.” He held out a hand. One of his men pulled something from his jacket and handed it to Egorshin. It looked like a metal billy club.

Egorshin slid a lever on the side of the club, leaned over, and tapped Mars with the end of it. Mars instantly cried out as volts of electricity shot through him. He slumped over to the side, his breathing ragged.

“Melvin!” screamed Jamison. She tried to reach out to him, but merely fell onto her side. With a nod from Egorshin, she was pulled up and slammed back against the wall.

Decker had never once taken his gaze off the Russian. “What sort of information?”

“How much you know. Your forward-looking plans. Anything at all that would be helpful to me.”

“And then you’ll what, just let us go?”

“No. I will not lie to you about that, because I would not want someone to make false promises to me in such a situation. What I offer you, in exchange for your information, is this.” He slipped a pistol from his jacket pocket and tapped the muzzle. “One bullet to each of your brains. You will feel nothing, I promise.”

“Yeah, painless, instant death. I’ve heard that before. It still doesn’t appeal to me.”

“The information?” said Egorshin. “Or shall I give your friend another zap?” He held out the electric prod.

Decker said, “We now know pretty much everything. Rachel Katz has given her statement implicating you. We have all the information from the underground room. We’ve raided Brad Gardiner’s office.”

“And found nothing since there is nothing there.”

“Well, there are other avenues of pursuit. We know you’ve planted spies all around the country.”

Egorshin ominously took out a muzzle suppressor and spun it onto the barrel of his pistol. “What else?”

“Mitzi Gardiner will fill in the rest.”

“Doubtful. Where is she?”

“Still at the hospital, under heavy guard.”

“You miss my point.”

Decker looked at him thoughtfully. “You didn’t try to kill her at the hospital. And I wonder why you even kept her alive all these years.”

Egorshin looked at one of his men and pointed to the doorway leading into the kitchen. The man left and came back a few moments later with Brad Gardiner. His hands were bound behind him and he looked disheveled and exhausted.

Decker glanced up at him. “You hung around too. Pretty stupid.”

“Well, it wasn’t his choice,” said Egorshin. “It was mine.”

“Is his name even Brad Gardiner?” said Jamison. “Or is he Russian, like you?”

Egorshin rose. “No, he’s American. Like David Katz. They were in it just for the money. A lot of money. Americans love their money.”

Jamison said, “Katz didn’t make much money before being killed. He just owned the American Grill. Hardly an empire.”

Egorshin shook his head wearily. “Where do you think he got the money to start his career? This was before he even moved here. His Mercedes and his expensive clothes and his investment portfolio worth millions and the down payment for the Grill and the various lines of credit? And how they were paid off so quickly? Katz was a marginal talent who didn’t want to work too hard for his fortune.”

“How did you two meet up?” asked Decker.

“Doesn’t matter. In much the same way I met up with this one,” he said, motioning to Gardiner. “A necessary though distasteful part of my job.”

Gardiner wouldn’t look at any of them. His gaze remained downcast. He was visibly trembling.

Jamison eyed Gardiner. “So you sold out your country for money. That makes you a traitor.”

“And traitors deserve to be executed,” said Egorshin.

Before anyone could react, the Russian placed the pistol against Gardiner’s temple and pulled the trigger.

The bullet blew through the man’s head and the slug plowed into the far wall of the kitchen. Brad Gardiner fell where he had stood a moment before.