Chapter 14
Chapter Fourteen
Ray Dorland
He was at work late that afternoon in the office when his door opened. He started to protest at the interruption after leaving specific orders not to be disturbed, but the words died on his lips when he saw who his visitor was.
The man’s ice-blue eyes cut laser-perfect holes into Ray’s calm, shattering it. “Makari!” He belatedly stood and rounded the desk to shake the man’s hand while hoping his voice didn’t tremble. “How yah doin’, mate. Didn’t expect yah here.”
Makari’s expression didn’t change, and the way he hesitated before shaking Ray’s hand made Ray’s balls want to crawl up inside him and hide.
“Did not expect to be here,” the man said in clipped English heavily accented with Russian. Without waiting, he walked over to the desk and sat down. “We need to talk, Ray.”
Oooohhh shit.
Ray’s mouth went dry from fear as he hurried back to his desk. “Can I get yah anything to—”
“Sit, Ray,” Makari Sokolov quietly said. “My time is valuable.”
“Uh, oh, sure. Yeah. Sorry.” Ray planted himself behind his desk. “What’s goin’ on? Is this about my request for assistance for the trip?”
The man’s default expression always bordered on resting bitch face, but today he looked even less pleased than usual. “Why is there a Mexican asking for information about a Jake Peterson and a Carl Peterson?”
Ray felt like he’d been punched in the stomach. “What, now?”
“More specifically, why was Jake Peterson pretending to be Russian to meet with the Mexican’s daughter?”
“I—what?”
“Did you not hear me or not understand me?”
“I-I don’t have any idea, mate! I swear! I don’t know any bloody Mexicans.” His mind reeled to hear two names from his past.
Especially one who was supposed to be dead, or at least locked up and being experimented on.
“Hmm.” He stared at Ray. “Tell me more about this trip you have requested manpower for.”
Ray stammered his way through it, trying to remember not to say anything about shifters. This guy didn’t know about the lab stuff.
At least, he’d never told him anything about it. And as far as he knew, this bloke wasn’t tied up with any of those people.
“Is your business with these people in Idaho related to the Mexican?”
Ray scowled. “Naw, mate. I swear I don’t know anything about no Mexicans. Old family business with ties to ours and a few others. Mostly legal, lot of tax dodges.”
“Nothing about narcotics?”
“Nah! Far’s I know, the Bleackes don’t do nothin’ like that.”
“Then why is this meeting so important? Why do you need my help? Why not use men of your own?”
He’d already thought about how to phrase this.
“Because some of my men, not that I don’t trust ’em to help, but I want to make sure we have plenty of heavy weights to make these buggers realize they need to turn over control to us.
I don’t want ’em to see any familiar faces.
Shock and awe, right? See, they have a lot of connections.
And where their territory is, now that could be valuable.
Middle of nowhere, close to the Canadian border.
If I can do a hostile takeover of their operation, we can use that territory to our advantage, know what I mean? ”
Sokolov scowled. “You just said they aren’t involved in narcotics.”
“Nah, but they’ve got shell companies all over the world. And that’s valuable.”
“You are confusing me,” he said. “This makes no sense. How would us going in there with men and weapons allow you to take over?”
Ray grinned. “We go in early. Guy that heads it? He’s missin’ right now. It’s a family business. We go in there and show some teeth, they’ll sign everything over to us real fast. Lean on ’em.”
“And the other people attending the meeting?”
“See, that’s what’s brilliant, right? We get there early, take over, and when they all show up, we show ’em who’s in charge. They gotta bend a knee to me, right?”
“Don’t you mean to ‘us’? It will be my men.”
“Yeah, yeah, of course. That’s what I meant.”
“Why do all of these people have this elaborate network of businesses if they are legitimate?”
“Well, thassit, right? Some of ‘em made their money in mining and logging and manufacturing. Over the years, they invested and built it. The corporations are a massive tax dodge. Not only can we take advantage of that for our purposes, you can take over some of those companies just for the legal protection to hide and move assets, okay? They got no stomach fer a fight, believe me. They never have. This is the perfect chance to take over.”
“And did you have anything to do with the disappearance of the man in question?”
“Nah. That’s just luck.”
Sokolov stared at him. “We will use my plane.”
Ray brightened. “Even better!”
Sokolov stood. “If I should learn you are arranging deals behind my back, it will not go well for you.”
Ray stood, holding up his hand. “Swear to god!”
Sokolov nodded. “My people will be in touch about the travel arrangements. We will fly to Seattle in three days. I have business interests there I need to spend time with. You will come alone; my men will be sufficient.”
“All right. That’s perfect. Thanks!”
Sokolov turned and left. Out in the lobby, he saw two more of Sokolov’s men standing there, waiting, and his admin assistant was gone, her purse missing from where she usually kept it.
Once the Russians left, Ray sagged against the doorframe of his office. They likely sent her home, and he wouldn’t even call her. It wasn’t the first time they’d walked in and done that, and it was safer for her, anyway.
He was heading over to his desk when he heard his phone ring.
Abundio Segura
What consumed his time now was trying to locate Jake Peterson. If he supposedly died in “custody”—and who knew what that meant, considering the Russian told him that—there had to be a record of him before then.
Meaning he’d start with trying to backtrack Carl’s history. Him and Mateo Soto both.
Mateo would be easier, since he was born in Mexico and served in the military.
Accessing Carl’s military records was a little more difficult, since it was the US military, and he didn’t have reliable contacts who could help him.
But it wasn’t an impossible task, even though his efforts thus far proved unsuccessful.
He set three different operatives he’d used in the past to the task. Without telling them that they weren’t the only ones working on it.
In Abundio’s experience, sometimes that produced better results. If nothing else, if they all returned with similar information—or no information—it could confirm the results.
Finally, after several weeks, he had a name connected to Carl’s mother—Ray Dorland, her brother.
The man was still alive, and another private investigator from over there was able to find Abundio a phone number. After figuring out the time difference, he made the call.
At first, he wasn’t sure if the call would be answered or go to voicemail, but after the fourth ring, a man picked up.
“Hello?”
Abundio was taken aback by his thick Australian accent. “Hello? I wish to speak to Ray Dorland, please.”
“Speakin’. Who’s this?”
“My name is Abundio Segura. I’m calling from Mexico. I am attempting to locate a man by the name of Jake Peterson.”
The man didn’t respond immediately. “Why you lookin’ for him?”
“His son, Carl, used to work for me. I’m attempting to locate Carl. I was hoping if I could locate Jake, he might be able to put me in touch with his son.”
Another long hesitation. “Don’t know why yer callin’ here, mate. How’d you even get my number?”
“My research led me to Carl’s mother being related to you, and I was hoping that—”
“Nah. Can’t help ya.” He hung up.
Abundio’s rage simmered, but he immediately tried calling back.
And he couldn’t get through, his number now blocked.
Hmm.
A simple wrong number would be ignored, wouldn’t it?
Meaning there were likely deeper layers to this story.
Sure, he could keep trying to call him using different burner phones, but this was a brick wall he’d hit.
Meaning there was something extremely valuable hidden behind it.
And he would find out exactly what that was.