CHAPTER EIGHT

 

Titan had eyes in the sky—surveillance hacked through as many systems as Sugar was sure Parker could manage on short notice. They didn’t have much to go on with the jammer in place, though. Sugar and Zellers watched all exit points from their covert position in the neighboring parking lot, waiting for the next move. The slow passage of time made her sick. She couldn’t imagine where Parker’s head was at.

“What in Sam hell do you think is going on there?” Zellers tapped on the steering wheel.

The back door of the gym popped open, and two hulking guys hustled to large, dark SUVs. A quick second later, they moved the vehicles closer to the building, and the door opened again. Walking in a line, two men in gym gear plus Bishop and Lexi walked under the watchful eye of two other Russians and were funneled into the waiting vehicles. Bishop and Lexi stuck together, and the other men went into a different car.

Another Russian walked to a third vehicle, and the cars made their own little caravan as they pulled out of the parking lot.

Sugar rubbed her protruding belly. “They’re playing line leader, and everyone wants to go home?”

“Smart-ass.” The cop grimaced. “There goes Tahiti.”

“Parker, what’re you hearing?” Jared asked through the encrypted channel on Sugar’s speakerphone on the center console.

“Nothing on the wires.”

“Zellers?” her husband snapped. “Where are they going?”

“Jeez. Let me just snap up my mob-mind-reader and check.”

“Asshole. Clearly you’re not in control of the situation. Task force is done. Titan is in.”

“Look,” Zellers grumbled. “Titan means red tape. You guys cause your share of problems.”

“Like not reporting a hostage situation to your superiors?” Parker asked, sounding none too thrilled with the direction the conversation was taking.

“Alright,” Sugar interrupted. “Clearly, we’re not all playing nicely—”

“Hang on, I’m hearing something.” Parker paused. “What do you know about…?”

“What?” Jared snapped.

“Give me a second. I’m trying to figure out what the hell they’re talking about.”

“Damn it, Parker.”

“My wife’s in that car,” Parker said. “Chill a second, Boss Man.”

Jared shut his trap. Score one for Parker. Sugar waited to see what Parker would find. He worked fine under pressure or when Jared was yacking down his neck. He could handle this situation with Lexi, but still, he worked better when no one screwed with him.

“Zellers…” Parker’s unsteady voice didn’t bode well for whatever he had figured out. “What do you know about a chemical called Chepetsk?”

Zellers’s head dropped. “Goddamn it.”

“What?” Sugar asked.

He rubbed his temples. “If that’s what this is about, we actually do have a problem, and I have to call my new wife and beg for forgiveness. I’m not going anywhere today.”

“What is it?” Jared jumped in.

“Chepetsk isn’t a chemical. It’s a place. A city. Kirovo-Chepetsk.”

“Yeah. That.” Parker agreed. “What’s the deal?”

“There’s a chemical plant there. It’s on a couple of converging rivers. They make fertilizers. The waste hit the water stream, and the company pays off whoever they need to pay off to make the stuff illegal and profitable. The stuff is poison; the town folks drink it.”

“So why are they in Maryland fighting over it?” Jared asked.

“Searching everything I can find now,” Parker said. “Other than the obvious, fertilizer can be used to make explosives. But why we’re talking about it is another question.”

“They hired a scientist from these parts, basically, and brought him in from wherever—Iowa, Nebraska, I don’t know—against his will. Who knows the whole story—whether the guy thought he signed on for a good job and it turned bad, or a bad job and he got in over his head—but the Feds caught wind.”

“Caught wind how and when?” Jared asked.

Zellers blew out and stretched in the driver’s seat, putting the car in drive and merging into traffic as they followed the caravan from a good-enough distance. “Not sure, exactly. We have a bit of a communication issue.”

“Shocking,” Jared said.

Zellers ignored him. “From what I’ve heard, the Feds grabbed him, got what they needed from him. So now he’s gone, and to the Gornovsky folks, the guy is missing, and they’re turning on each other.”

“Missing, as in witness protection? Or missing, as in the scientist dude is bled out somewhere for snitching?”

Zellers shrugged. “Missing. What does it matter?”

Jared growled. “They’re fighting over this guy, and you people lost him? He could be in Russia.”

“Not my people.”

“Freaking bureaucracy,” Jared snapped. “Where is he? Is he out of the country? With a Russian faction?”

“Not likely. He’s not Russian—just, ya know, does well with the Russians.”

“Parker,” Jared said, “find everything you can about this guy, the greedy scientist—what’s his name?”

“Render Rossi,” Zellers said.

“On it,” Parker said.

“That’s definitely not a Russian name.” Jared’s knuckles crackled over the airwaves.

Zellers turned to Sugar. “What’s he going to do? Find the guy? End the turf war himself?”

She smirked. “Probably.” Jackass. “Whatever he does, Lexi will come home safe, and you’ll likely get some kind of task-force medallion of accomplishment. So shut up, copper, and let my husband save your job.”

“Damn, you’re a handful.”

They kept their eyes on the Suburbans ahead. Bishop was with Lexi, and that set Sugar’s mind somewhat at ease. If and when it was advantageous, he could likely overpower the mobsters. Though a move like that would be dangerous. But her gut said he was a smart kid and would wait to make his move.

“Holy shit…” It wasn’t often that Jared sounded equal parts in awe and shocked.

Sugar dropped her gaze to the phone as though she could see what had Jared mumbling in surprise. “What?”

“This greedy scientist?” The words came out slowly, as though he were piecing together a plan he was still unsure about.

“Yeah?” Sugar said.

“He looks a hell of a lot like Parker. Throw a pair of glasses on Parker, hide the fact that he has an extra thirty pounds of muscle, and I’d say you have a chemical-making friend of the Russians.”

“I don’t look like that guy,” Parker said.

“Text me a picture,” Sugar requested, and a hot second later, lo and behold, yeah, the guy looked a hell of a lot like Parker but with glasses.

“How well do they know the scientist?” Jared asked.

Zellers shrugged. “The Gornovsky players don’t get into the lab much. I’d say they’re more business-type guys. If they’ve met, it’s been in passing. Maybe seen him across the room. They don’t deal with the hired help, if you know what I mean. Right now, their interests only lie in Rossi because he’s their money maker and is MIA.”

“It’d be risky…” Jared said.

Zellers’s face tightened. “Eh… what’s he talking about?”

“It’ll work.” Sugar could picture Jared popping his knuckles, making notes, and writing the plans, not caring whether Zellers gave a thumbs-up or not.

“Do they communicate in Russian?” Parker asked.

Zellers looked from the phone to Sugar, back to the phone. “Are you guys serious?”

“Get Nicola in your earpiece,” Jared said. “She can translate anything you need to know. And start learning everything else about the Gornovsky crew.”

The plan made perfect sense to Sugar. Hesitation scored Zellers’s face. His eyebrows arched painfully high, but before his mouth could protest, Parker broke in. “We’ve pulled off crazier shit. I’ll do whatever needs to be done to get Lex home.”

Just another reason why Sugar loved Boy Genius. He fuckin’ rocked. “Get the man a pair of glasses.”