Chapter Fourteen #3
“Hope how?” Maggie thinks about what she heard before she fell asleep, about Trace searching for Marc. She knows, of course, that it’s impossible. But the fact that he would voice that…“And what did you mean about Trace searching for Marc?”
He takes a few moments. His hand is on his chin. Exhaustion emanates from every part of his body. “Let me tell it my way, okay?”
She doesn’t reply. She just waits.
“You want to know why I was at Oleg’s, but you’ve probably figured it out by now.”
“You’re investigating him.”
“Yes.”
“And you’re, what, undercover?”
“That makes it sound sexier than it is. But yes. I am a physician from a rich, well-connected family. It’s easy to pass me off as a ne’er-do-well who relishes the Russian party life.
Do you know that was the first time Oleg Ragoravich has had any kind of event in the past three years?
He’s been ultra-secretive about his movements.
He’ll show up somewhere, like in Dubai, but he never lets anyone know ahead of time.
I’ve been on this case for the past two years, and I’ve still never seen him in person. Not even at that crazy ball.”
“Why do you think that is?”
“Not sure. There are rumors of bad health. There are rumors he pissed off some powerful people and fears assassination attempts.” Then: “Can I ask you a question?”
“Go ahead.”
“When did Marc give you my number?”
“He didn’t.”
“How did you get it?”
Maggie wants to get information, not give it. “Maybe we could start with how you knew Marc.”
Charles nods—this is going to be a bit more give-and-take than he’d expected.
“Marc realized that they were in way over their heads with no way out.”
“Because of the money laundering?”
“That was part of it, but do you want to know a hard truth?”
“Sure.”
“I don’t think Marc cared all that much about the laundering.
I don’t think any of you did. All three of you are brilliant surgeons and researchers.
You all also have, sorry, a bit of a god complex.
Sure, Marc wanted to save lives and all that.
But I also know he—and let’s be honest, you and Trace too—have the surgeon’s ego.
You are ends-justify-means types. A lot of do-gooders are.
That’s just a fact. So my guess is, if it was simple money laundering, Marc would have used all the justifications I just gave you and looked the other way. ”
“You’re saying it didn’t stay that way?”
Charles smiles but there is no joy in it. “Nothing ever stays stagnant in life. The world is in constant motion. Corruption, like everything else, either gets worse or it gets better.”
“And this got worse?”
“Very much so.”
“How?”
Charles shakes off her question. “The point is, Marc wanted out. So did Trace. They asked for a face-to-face with Ragoravich. Oleg loved doctors. He thought they could help him. I don’t think it’s a coincidence that he chose to sink his fangs into WorldCures of all charities.
From day one, he saw the potential for more than just cleaning his money. ”
“Potential how?”
Once again, Lockwood shakes off her question.
“Stop doing that,” Maggie says.
“Sorry, but you have to let me tell it my way, okay?”
She gives him a reluctant suit-yourself-continue gesture with both hands.
“So Marc and Trace are flown in to Ragoravich’s palace.
They tell Oleg that they’re grateful and appreciative, but they plan on leaving WorldCures Alliance, and they wanted Oleg to be the first to know.
Ragoravich shakes their hands and thanks them for their time.
Then they got back on the helicopter with some other visitor.
An overweight bald man. That’s how they described him.
We still don’t know who he was. They flew the helicopter over an abandoned iron ore or salt mine, something like that, and Oleg’s men threw the bald guy out.
Just like that. No warning. Not a word said. Right in front of Marc and Trace.”
Maggie looks at him in pure horror.
“Then they grabbed Trace. Like they were going to do the same to him. They dangled him upside down outside the copter for five minutes, holding on to him by one ankle.”
“My God.”
Charles nods. “Anyway, message received. There was no leaving WorldCures. They were in too deep. Trace, I think he surrendered to that fate. But you know your husband. He was a problem solver. He kept looking for a way.”
She nods to herself at that. Marc believed that he could indeed find a solution to every problem. There was no quit in her husband, just a road not yet taken.
“That,” Charles says, “is where I come in.”
“Marc became your, what, informant?”
“Something like that, yeah. He put out feelers. Quietly. I came to him. I told him the only way out was for him to help us take down Ragoravich.”
“Did he agree?”
Lockwood says nothing.
“Did he agree, Charles?”
“Yes.”
Maggie feels the tears come to her eyes. “You said Trace is missing.”
“Yes.”
“And you also said he may be looking for Marc.”
Charles shakes his head. “I shouldn’t have said that.”
“But you did.”
“Yes.” Charles lets loose a long breath. “There are three theories about your husband’s death. Would you like to hear them in order of believability?”
She wouldn’t. But she still gives a small nod. She knows where he’s going to go with this. She needs to hear him say it out loud.
“Theory One: Marc got caught up in the violence of a volatile region. That’s the most accepted theory, of course. It’s also, for the record, the one I most believe. It’s backed up by evidence and logic.”
“What’s Theory Two?”
“I think you can probably guess now.”
Maggie nods. “Oleg Ragoravich killed Marc.”
“Yes.”
“He found out that Marc had turned on him. He set it up to have him killed and made it look like he was a casualty of war.”
“Yes.”
“And Trace, what, he got away?”
“And that’s why he’s in hiding, yes.”
Maggie thinks about it, tries to stay detached, unemotional. “That actually seems almost as likely as Theory One, don’t you think?”
Charles doesn’t respond.
“I mean, Marc risks going up against this powerful, rich, evil man—and then he ends up dead.”
“I don’t think that’s what happened.”
“Because then it would be in part your fault,” Maggie says. “My husband comes to you for help, and he ends up dead.”
“That’s not it.”
“What then?”
“Because if Oleg Ragoravich wanted them dead, he wouldn’t have had to jump through so many hoops.
Did Oleg plan the slaughter at the refugee camp?
Thirty-three people were murdered in that rampage.
Seems like a lot of unnecessary collateral damage.
And of course, he didn’t want to just silence Marc.
There was Trace too. Trace, if you believe this theory, got away.
Do you think Oleg Ragoravich would be that sloppy? ”
All good points. But of course, Maggie already knew that.
“So,” Maggie says, “let’s get to it, shall we? What’s Theory Three?”
“It’s ridiculous.”
“But?”
Lockwood looks at her. “Did they spare you the details?”
“About?”
“About how Marc was killed.”
She feels her chest tighten. “I know about the”—Maggie is never sure of the right word to use here—“savagery.”
“To some people that seems odd.”
“A lot of victims got hacked to death.”
“I know.”
“And yes, maybe he was hard to identify. But a DNA test was done.”
Charles Lockwood tilts his head. “By whom?”
Maggie is not sure who did it.
“Did the local authorities do it?” Charles asks. “I mean, there’s no American embassy in that area. The closest was in Tunisia. So who ran the DNA test?”
“There were people,” she says. “Reliable people.”
“Right then. I mean, sure. It’s why that last theory is ridiculous.”
“So what’s your third theory, Charles?”
“It’s obvious, isn’t it?”
“Not to me.”
“If Ragoravich found out what Marc had done, he would kill him, of course. And just to make sure the lesson stuck, Oleg would probably kill anyone and everyone close to him. Especially you, Maggie. Best-case scenario: Marc would have to look over his shoulder the rest of his life.”
“Did you tell Marc this? I mean, when you recruited him.”
“No.”
“Why not?”
“You know why.”
“Because you didn’t give a shit about him. You cared about your case.”
“Yes,” he says calmly. “I put him in an untenable situation—after he put himself in one. But there was a way out. For you, at least. If Marc ended up ‘dying’”—he makes quote marks with his fingers—“in a refugee camp in Tunisia, then, well, you’d both be in the clear.”
Maggie feels the cold down to her bones. “You’re saying Marc faked his own death?”
“No, I’m saying that didn’t happen. I’m saying it’s a ridiculous—”
“That he, what, found another body that got hacked up there. That he pretended it was his, bought off whoever ran the DNA test. And now, what, he’s in hiding?”
“I’m saying the theory is ridiculous.”
“But that’s Theory Three?”
“Yes.”
“And to follow it through, Trace, what, ran off and hid—and now he is meeting up with Marc? And what’s the plan after that, Charles?”
“I don’t know,” he says. “Theory Three, I admit, is pretty weak.”
“It is,” Maggie says.
“But one thing is true either way.”
“What’s that?”
“You’re very close to Trace.”
“Yes.”
“You’ve known him a long time.”
She nods. “We served together in combat.”
“Whatever theory you believe—One, Two, or Three—Trace Packer is missing. So my question is, How far would you go to find him?”
“As far as I have to,” Maggie says.
He nods, slaps his legs, stands. “When you’re strong enough—”
“I’m strong enough now.”
He thinks about it. “Okay. We leave tomorrow.”
“Where are we going?”
Charles smiles. “Someplace much warmer.”