An Atypical Story Chapter 1 Cleaning Out The Garbage
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I sat silently in my vehicle for a few moments to collect my thoughts. I had suspected that the plant in Linda's office was a rouge federal agent looking to gather dirt on me.
I had not for a moment suspected that it was another outfit looking for the opportunity to take over my operation. The Chechnyan Mafia was ruthless. They slaughtered their way to power and they held onto power by being more willing to dole out punishment than the other guy.
In my mind, the Chechnyans were the offshoot of my father in his later years. They were absolutely amoral. They had no guilt, no guile and no humanity.
I knew my only course of action would lead me down a primrose path but I could see no other way around it.
I snuck back into the bank and waited in the lobby for the man I had seen to appear. When he did, I snapped a picture with my cell phone and calmly exited the building.
Then I called Douglas Meadows.
I had expected to perform a song and dance to get through to him. Instead he answered on the second ring.
"Meadows," he said.
"Uh, hi, Agent Meadows," I said somewhat deflated because I was counting on ranting and raving to an officious underling before got to speak to the SAC. "It's Michael McPherson."
"Hey, long time since I heard from you," he said. "Must be what, 30 or 40 minutes."
"I have some information about the man in Linda Cardelli's bank," I said without humor. "He's Baltic, likely Chechnyan. And I have a photo I would like to e-mail to you."
"Son of a bitch," Meadows said. "We do not need any fuckin' Chechnyans rolling around in this city."
"I tend to agree," I said.
"You tend to agree because if they show up it'll mean a war for you," he said.
"And likely a war for you," I replied. "Can I upload this photo to you? Do you have an account I can send it that it won't be all over the Federal building in a hour?"
He read off his private e-mail and I sent him the photo.
I was waiting with scores of parents at Amelia's school when Meadows called back.
"Are you somewhere safe?" he asked when I answered.
"I'm collecting Amelia from school," I told him. "I've had six men stationed in proximity to the school since I exited Linda's bank."
"You've got six there and I've got four," he said. "Good thinking. I wasn't sure if you had the manpower to staff it."
"I wondered the same about you," I replied.
"We can't find Linda Cardelli," he said. "Do you know where she is?"
"No," I answered. "I tried to get her to come to my house for safety. She told me she had an urgent meeting in Corliss and would be driving there this afternoon."
"Why didn't you stop her?" he asked urgently. "Jesus, Corliss is teeming with Chechnyans. You should have kept her from going."
"How do you propose I do that?" I answered. "I couldn't very well forcibly remove her from her place of employment. I told her the risks she was taking. She told me that I was simply trying to control her — like her husband and her father had — and that I was no better than my father. At that point, I ensured the Amelia would be safe if Linda didn't return and told her I doubted that I would be in a position to rescue her if she found herself in danger. It was the best I could do under the circumstance."
I heard a deep sigh from the other end of the phone.
"Do you know what bank she was going to in Corliss?" Meadows asked.
"I got the impression it was a branch of the bank she works for," I told him. "You'll need to contact her employer if you want more information. Honestly, she pissed me off and I figured that when she walked out of the bank was the last time I'd see her alive."
There was additional silence.
"What about the girl?" Meadows asked.
"I'm her guardian if anything happens to Linda," I said. "That's why I'm here to pick her up."
"OK, the man at the bank is an enforcer for the Chechnyans," Meadows said. "Last name of Rubinoff, real piece of work. There are dozens of warrants out on him from various local, state, federal and international jurisdiction. So, if Linda Cardelli contacts her daughter this evening I want you to tell her — in no uncertain terms, Michael — that she is to stay as far away from that bank in Corliss and the bank here tomorrow. That is a direct federal order. Her proximity to either bank will jeopardize an ongoing investigation and she will be detained on the spot. Will you do that?"
"Of course," I answered.
"The same goes for you or Amelia Cardelli," he continued. "In fact, I think it might be best for you to lay low until I give you the heads up. I know that is asking a lot but I don't think it is in either of our interests for you to be linked with the operation in any way."
I was silent for a moment.
"Agent Meadows, my cooperation with various police agencies is already well-known," I told him. "It is likely what make the Chechnyans view me as vulnerable."
"Michael, make no mistake," Meadows replied. "The past few months are why they viewed you as vulnerable. The upswing in violence is reminiscent of your father. There are many outside of police circles who believe you father has returned or that you have slipped off your rocker like he did. If you believe any differently then I want to disabuse you of that notion pretty quickly. Now you take care of Amelia Cardelli and Linda if you can. Please, let me take care of Victor Rubinoff."
I saw Amelia approaching with a large smile so I considered Meadows' statement only briefly before I agreed.
But I wondered if a turf war with a well-funded, well-armed and untamed foe was looming on the horizon. And I wondered if I would survive such a war.
Both Amelia and I were surprised to see her mother's car in my driveway when we pulled in.
"She had a big meeting tomorrow," Amelia said. "It was all she talked about yesterday. Darn, I was looking forward to staying here with you for a few days."
"I still think you might," I said with obvious relief.
Amelia was sharp and my change in mood did not go unnoticed.
"What's going on, Pops?" she asked.
"Too much to go into right now," I replied. "We'll talk inside. I'll let your mother explain."
Linda greeted us sheepishly when we walked in the door. Well, she greeted me sheepishly. Amelia got a big hug.
"Why are you here, Mom?" Amelia asked. "Dad wouldn't tell me."
"Honey, I've told you a hundred times, Michael isn't really your father," Linda said with clear frustration.
"And I've told you a hundred times that he is," Amelia replied with a self-assurance that I've noticed teenagers seem to possess on rare occasions. "Now will someone please tell me what is going on?"
I glanced at Linda who was still staring at her daughter. So I answered.
"There is a man at the bank who is in some trouble," I replied. "The FBI thinks it is best for you and your mother to remain out of sight for a few days. I agree and I offered my place instead of protective custody."
Both mother and daughter looked over at me.
"What did he do?" Amelia asked.
"Lots of things from what I've been told," I replied. "There are numerous warrants out for him — federal, state and from Interpol."
Recognition settled on Amelia's face.
"Your boyfriend, Alex," she said to her mother.
"He is not my boyfriend," Linda said. "But yes, it is Alex that Michael is talking about."
But Amelia's question had caused a blush to settle over Linda's face.
"So this is about you," Amelia said to me.
"It appears it might be," I replied. "I'm sorry to have gotten you two involved. I know how much your mother wants to be out of this life."
Linda pursed her lips and walked away.
"My mother wanted to be away from Rico," Amelia corrected as she dragged me into the sitting room with her mother before she bounced up the stairs to change clothes.
"I'm sorry about what I said this afternoon," Linda told me when I sat down opposite her. "I knew I was full of shit when I said it but I lashed out at you anyway. I hope you'll forgive me."
"Is that what you really think of me?" I asked.
"Not about you, Michael," she said. "I tend to think that way about all men. Even though rationally I understand that your motives were protective and not vindictive I still tend to lump you in with everyone else of your gender. I was about an hour away before my strong sense of self-preservation kicked in. But never once have you forced me to do anything I didn't want to do nor have you tried to coerce or control me."
She chewed on her lower lip for a moment before she continued.
"I guess that is why you are the only man in the world I trust," she added. "I guess that is why you are the only man in the world I might ever be able to trust."
I wasn't certain that I was worthy of her trust but I figured that she could do worse.
"Well, I'm glad you turned around and came here," I told her. "I don't know if the meeting tomorrow is on the up and up but even if it is, it will be a relief to know that you're safe."
"Are we safe?" she asked.
It was a question that I didn't have a long-term answer to.
"For now, yes," I stated firmly. "We need to clear up the misconception of Amelia's conception before long however."
Linda smiled grimly at my attempted humor.
"Perhaps the 250th time will be different from the 249th," she said. "I've told her and told her. You've told her at least once and probably more than that. I think, realistically, she knows it. However..."
"Yes," I replied. "There is always the 'however.' I am unsure why she chooses to perpetuate the myth but I'm certain she has her reasons. Perhaps we could convince it is OK to believe that it is safer not to advertise it."
Linda cocked her head to the side.
"Do you really think that she could be in danger?" she asked.
"Fuck yes," I said. "Jesus Christ, this group in brutal. They have no qualms about killing families. That is what I was trying to get across to you this afternoon. Believe me, from what I've heard, death would be a blessing after the other things they do. If they think they can get to me through Amelia or you, don't think they won't."
The fact that I had cursed was not lost on Linda. It was something I rarely did in mixed company.
"What can we do?" she asked.
I shrugged.
"I don't know," I replied. "We'll know more after the Feds pick up your buddy tomorrow."
Linda's protests about her relationship were interrupted by my cell phone chirping.
"McPherson," I answered. It was Agent Meadows.
"I finally got the info on the boy in your friend's bank," he told me. "He is one piece of work. He is an enforcer, mid-level. But he's mostly free-lance. I'm not sure if he's looking at your territory for himself or for someone else. I'll let you know after we take him down tomorrow. It looks like he stole the identity of a some guy named Alex Purcell from outside of Brownsville, Texas. Purcell was a banker from down that way. He came up missing in Brussels about 9 months ago. He didn't have much in the way of family but his employer finally reported him missing about six weeks ago."
I was listening intently.
"Are you sure it's not Purcell?" I asked.
I saw Linda's attention snap toward me.
"Your guy is 5-9 and Caucasian," Meadows said. "Alexander Purcell is 6-2 and African-American. It seems Rubinoff used Purcell's work visa to get an international drivers license then used the license to get a British passport. He entered the country sometime in the last 5 months but we don't know where, possibly through Mexico. They don't cross-check fingerprints at some of their smaller airports. After that, well, you know how easy it is to get into the U.S. from down there. A foreign national would have to be fingerprinted if he entered the U.S. via plane and believe me, Rubinoff would have set off some major alarms."
"You'll be able to bring him down?" I asked.
"Depends on if he saw you take his photo," Meadows said.
"I don't think he did," I replied. "Obviously if I would have known a little more about him I would have been less obvious. I was not out in the open. I have enough common sense that I didn't want him to eyeball me doing it. But I would guess he has some pretty refined senses in his line of work."
"Well, he didn't leave work early and he didn't appear to notice our tail — but he still managed to lose them," Meadows said. "I'd love to have his home address because I really don't want to take him down in public if I don't have to. That's why I'm still trying to find Linda Cardelli. She had a reservation at the Hyatt in Corliss but she didn't show. I'm sorry, Michael."
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