The hands on the blanket jerked and clenched into fists. I wont answer any more questions, Caitlyn said in a thin, remote voice. A voice beyond caring, C.J. thought; a voice that said to the world, What more can you do to me?
Unperturbed, Jake Redfield arched his eyebrows at Caitlyn as if she could see him. Hed taken the position at her elbow across from C.J., with Charly back a little and toward the foot of the bed. Thats okay, he said quietly, I dont plan on asking you any. Not right now. What Id like you to do, though, is listen to what I have to say. Can you do that?
Chapter 5
The silence in the room was intense. By contrast, the world outside seemed cluttered with sound: the rhythmic shushing of a ventilator in a nearby cubicle; the muted chirp of a telephone; a mutter of voices; the sandy slap of footsteps. C.J. found himself becoming aware of silences and sounds as if he were experiencing the world from the perspective of the woman lying in the hospital bed. A woman without sight.
The FBI mans long face and downward tilted eyes gave him a perpetually doleful expression that reminded C.J. of a hound dog hed once known. He knew enough about Jake Redfield, though, to be pretty certain that behind those eyes lurked a keen intelligence-maybe even a sense of humor. Also a single-minded determination when in pursuit of bad guys that bordered on obsession. Which was not unlike a hound dog, come to think of it.
Now that keen and melancholy gaze was focused on the woman in the bed as intently as if she could actually meet it.
And almost as if she felt that gaze, Caitlyns hands slowly uncurled, then brushed at the blanket in a self-conscious sort of way. Stabbing a sullen look in Redfields direction, she uttered a quiet but firm, All right.
When the FBI man seated himself on the edge of the bed and half turned so he was facing the woman lying in it, again as if she were capable of seeing him, as if she were someone he wanted to maintain eye contact with, a strange and unfamiliar disquiet stirred in C.J.s belly. He hated to think it might be jealousy. He sure hoped it wasnt-hed never been subject to such a thing before.
Nevertheless, he found himself squirming inside as Jake said in a soft, almost intimate voice, Good for youglad to hear it.
Then he paused, long enough for Caitlyn to stir restively and mutter, So, talk, then.
When he continued, the FBI mans voice was brisk, all business. Okay. Heres the deal. The man whose daughter you took-Ari Vasily-is a dangerous man.
Caitlyn interrupted with a faint snort. Tell me something I dont know.
We-the Bureau, that is-are very interested in Mr. Vasily, he went on, as if she hadnt spoken. We have been for some time. Caitlyn had grown still and was listening intently, and though she couldnt see it, Jake nodded his approval. Weve been keeping a close eye on some of Mr. Vasilys business dealings since before the 9-11 terrorist attacks-weve always believed him to be a major player in the illegal drug and arms trade, possibly the kingpin in Miami and almost certainly a critical link between the Colombians and the Middle-Eastern dealers. Since the attacks, in following the terrorists money trail, weve been turning up leads that suggest Vasilys links to the Middle East may involve a lot more than illegal drugs. He paused, creating a stillness nobody cared to break. We believe that Ari Vasily may be responsible for channeling hundreds of millions of dollars into terrorists bank accounts.
To C.J. the atmosphere in the room felt thick, as if there werent enough oxygen to go around, and when Caitlyn finally spoke, her voice sounded starved for it. If you believed that, why havent you stopped him?
C.J. jerked his eyes from her hands to her face, then wished he hadnt. Her voice had been so thin, so frail-he wasnt prepared for the silvery flash of accusation in her eyes; the swollen, shiny look of her face, as if from the pressure of too much held-back pain, and the words unspoken: Then none of this would have had to happen. Seeing it, the disquiet in his belly became a building pressure that made him want to jump up and pace, punch something-do something, anything to make that look go away.
Again Redfield acknowledged her anger calmly, with a nod she couldnt see. He spoke with so much control his voice sounded gentle. We know the links are there, but so far we havent been able to find the ones that lead back to Vasily. The man is clever and hes careful. And he has almost unlimited resources. He insulates himself inside so many layers of organization, its been impossible up to now to follow a trail directly to him. Weve been able to find and close off a lot of his-I guess you could call them fingers. Tributaries. Channels. What we havent been able to do is connect any of them to the man at the top-we believe thats Vasily. C.J. wondered if he was the only one to see the FBI mans hand curl into a fist. For the first time Jakes voice betrayed tight-jawed, frustrated rage. We know it, but we cant prove it.
Caitlyn spoke, not sullen or accusing, but quietly alert. What does this have to do with me?
I think you may be his first mistake. Jakes smile wasnt pleasant to see. Wed like to see that its a fatal one.
A mistake? Caitlyn whispered. And then, referring to the second part of the statement, a rather pugnacious, How?
Redfield shifted, in the manner of somebody getting down to the nitty-gritty. This is the first hint weve had that Vasily might be human. He smiled wryly. Its obvious that his daughter is important to him. So important that when faced with losing her, hes apparently willing to go to extreme lengths to get her back, even at unprecedented risk of personal exposure. He leaned forward and his voice hardened. Spelling it out, I believe Vasily ordered the hit on his wife. I think thats obvious, even if theres no way in hell anybodyd ever make it stick in a court of law. Why would he do such a thing, effectively turning the spotlight of law enforcement on himself, when hes been so successful in avoiding it for so long? He paused, then answered himself.
Because he was driven to it by sheer frustration. All those months waiting for you to crack, not able to get to you, not able to do a damn thing to get his daughter back-it finally pushed him into doing something stupid. Now all we have to do is take advantage of that mistake.
How can you? Caitlyn whispered. If you cant prove he did it-had Mary Kelly killed.
The FBI man leaned closer, and his voice grew softer still. He had Mary Kelly killed for one reason, Caitlyn-to send a message to you. Look, he said, putting up a hand as if to block her gasp of rejection, you were the one who had his daughter spirited away. He knows his wife didnt have the resources to do that. So, obviously, youre the one who knows where she is.
But I dont- He made a sound to cut off the denial.
Vasily probably figured youd be so shook up by the shooting youd give in and spill what you know to the judge and hed get the kid back and that would be that. He didnt count on you getting in the way of a bullet.
How can you be so sure of that? Caitlyn protested faintly, voicing the same arguments C.J. and the others in the room had put forth when Jake had first laid out his theory for them. There were bullets flying everywhere! Other people were hit-injured. Killed. Her eyes darted desperately around the room; she had that lost child look again. Couldnt it have beenI dont knowrandom?
Anythings possible, Jake said solemnly, without an ounce of conviction. But consider this-the first shots took out the guards, but only wounded them. Then one bullet got Mrs. Vasily square in the heart. The only reason it creased your skull first was because when you heard those first shots you got some crazy notion in your head that youd protect her. Vasily must have just about had a heart attack when he saw that. His lips curved in his chilling smile. It took a real pro and one helluva sharpshooter to do that, but I wouldnt give a bent nickel for the hit mans life right now. Vasily wants you, and he wants you alive.
Vasilywants you.
This must be what drowning feels like, Caitlyn thought, as the wave of fear washed over her. To be engulfed in blacknesssuffocating and cold.
And yet her mind was astonishingly clear. I think I know where this is going, she heard her own calm voice saying. You want to set a trap for Vasily, and you want me to be the bait.
There was a flurry of sounds and stirrings. Her minds eye struggled to sort them out: a choked protest from Dad, hastily stifled; C.J.s voice-an angry, growled No. No way. You said that wasnt Background mutterings of protest from someone-that would be C.J.s sister-in-law, the lawyer, probably; closer by, the FBI mans restless shifting and the barely audible hiss of a breath, exhaled through someones nose.
The lawyer-Charly-said in a thick Southern drawl, For Lords sake, Jake, after you almost lost Evie-
The FBI man cut her off, speaking directly to Caitlyn in a quiet but curiously vibrant voice. As if, she thought, he was trying to cover up some powerful emotion and not doing a very good job of it. We do want to set a trap for Vasily, of course. Because if theres one thing in this world Ari Vasily would take care of in person rather than leaving to his loyal-not to mention untraceable-soldiers, its picking up his little girl, once he finds out where she is. But the last thing wed want to do is use you or the child as bait. Too many things can go wrong. He paused to clear his throat against a background of more shiftings and stirrings.
Undercurrents, thought Caitlyn, intrigued in spite of everything.
What we want to do, the FBI man-Jake?-went on after a moment, raising his voice in a struggle to reclaim his self-control, is get you under wraps and keep you there until weve got Vasily in custody. To do that-
Youll have to use me, Caitlyn said calmly. You said yourself-he wants me alive.
He wants his daughter, Jake corrected, his voice now hard and flat. Youre the means to an end, as far as hes concerned, nothing more. Well set up the situation, and itll be one that isnt going to put you or Emma Vasily in harms way-leave that to us. Right now were more concerned about getting you to a safe place without Vasily knowing about it.