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Agent X - Boyd Noah (серии книг читать онлайн бесплатно полностью TXT) 📗

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“I’d be surprised if it were legit, but it’s our best shot right now.”

As they walked through the bank lobby, Vail started scanning the faces of the employees, wondering if one of them was another plant by the Russians, put there to move money. Kalix led the way to the manager’s office and flashed his credentials, introducing himself and Vail. Once he did, he handed the bank officer the court order and pointed out that it instructed him to provide the mentioned records and that any disclosure regarding the FBI’s visit would be a violation of federal law.

“Sure, I understand.” After reading the document, the manager started typing at his desktop computer. He took a pen and wrote down a woman’s name, her phone number, and an address in Alexandria. “This is all the info we have on the account holder. There was a transfer of five hundred thousand dollars to it yesterday, but that was canceled first thing this morning. The balance is zero.” He slid it across to Kalix, who glanced at it and handed it to Vail. The manager went back to the court order. “What are these three other dates you’re requesting?”

Vail said, “They are additional transfers made from the same Chicago account. We’re not sure whether they came to your bank, but if you could check, we’d appreciate it. They were each a quarter of a million dollars.”

After a few more minutes on the computer, the manager said, “They weren’t sent here.”

Vail said, “Again, if someone asks, it’s best that we were never here.”

“I understand,” the banker said.

As they left, Vail said, “I’ll drive,” and got behind the wheel.

“I assume we’re going to Alexandria.”

Vail glanced over at him, indicating that an answer wasn’t necessary. “Can you get that name checked?” Kalix pulled the radio mike from its mounting, and Vail put his hand on top of it. “I don’t think you want that name going across the air, even if the channel is scrambled.”

“You’re right. I wasn’t thinking.” Kalix dialed his cell phone and after giving some instructions waited a couple of minutes before saying “Thank you” and hanging up. “Nothing on the name, but according to the utility check the address is good.”

“Let’s go take a look at it.” Vail glanced at him as if trying to decide something about him. “Are you carrying a gun?”

Kalix blushed a little. “For the first time in years.”

“Really? Why now?”

“I guess for the same reason I’m helping you instead of fully protecting my flank.”

“Which is?”

“Do you remember when you got your appointment to new agents’ training, what an adventure this all was going to be? How daily life was going to go from ordinary to fantastic? That’s what I thought. Then I got to the field. The first two years in WFO were spent working wiretaps. I had no choice but to go into management to get out from under the earmuffs. In seventeen years with the Bureau, I haven’t had one of the days I signed up for.” He looked at Vail to see if what he was saying was registering. “This may be my only chance to be something other than the man in the gray paper suit.”

Vail laughed. “It sounds like you’re ready to do something stupid.”

“Is that a bad thing?”

“Do you really think I’m the person to ask?”

For the next twenty minutes, neither of them said anything. Finally Vail pulled over and motioned to a house in the distance. “That’s it there.”

Kalix sat up. “It doesn’t look like much.”

“One of the little lessons I’ve learned during my stay in Washington is that the Russians prefer their ambushes to be isolated.”

“You think this is a trap?”

“A trap or a dead end. Unfortunately, a dead end isn’t going to help us.” Vail opened his cell phone and dialed the number that the bank manager had given them. He held it away from his ear so Kalix could hear. After three rings a woman with a heavy Eastern European accent answered. “ ’Allo.”

“Is Clarence there?” Vail asked.

“No one that name here,” she said, and hung up.

Vail put the car in gear. “So far so good.”

“What’s good? You’re not going to the house, are you?”

“I thought you wanted to do something stupid.”

“Shouldn’t you get some help?”

Vail smiled at him. “I’ve got some. When I go to the front door, you take the back.” Kalix had his hand on his automatic, unsure whether he should draw it or not. “It’s okay, John. Haul ’er out.”

Kalix gave him an embarrassed smile and eased the automatic from its holster.

They pulled up in the driveway, and as both men got out, Kalix hurried to the back of the house. Vail walked up the three stairs onto the front porch and knocked hard on the door’s window. He didn’t wait for an answer, knocking again even more loudly. After a third time, there still was no answer. He yelled back to Kalix, “I’m going in!”

The house was a small one-story structure, and Vail could tell by the exterior construction that there was no basement. The door wasn’t locked, so he pushed it open, drawing his own automatic.

Someone had tried to rehab the drab interior cheaply. The floors were unfinished plywood, and the walls were mostly unmatched paneling. Like most houses that old, it was a basic rectangle with low, seven-foot ceilings, which were clogged with spiderwebs. To the right, through a doorway, Vail could see into the kitchen. There were two partially eaten carry-out meals on the table, which was a card table flanked by two folding chairs. Two beer bottles sat next to two empty glasses. At the bottom of one of the glasses, Vail could see small bubbles hugging the inside, indicating that whoever had been drinking beer had been gone no more than a few minutes. Since Vail and Kalix had been sitting outside that long, it meant that at least one person was still in the house. Not able to remember how to say “good afternoon” in Russian, Vail yelled “Dobroie utro!” and then, in English, an even louder “Good morning!” There was no answer.

Vail backed out of the kitchen and into the entryway. Straight ahead was what looked like a living room, although it was difficult to say without any furniture. Carefully, he walked into the room, his face brushing against more cobwebs. He caught a glimpse of Kalix out the back window, peeking in. Vail tried the door on the right side of the room, but it was locked. He moved from in front of it and knocked. “Dobroie utro.”

Again there was no response. The dead-bolt lock on the door looked brand new and out of place on an interior door. Across the room, directly opposite, was another door, leading to the left rear of the house. It was ajar and without any sort of visible lock on it. Cautiously Vail moved to it and pushed it open. At the top of the door, he noticed that some of the cobwebs that hung from the ceiling were matted against it, indicating that it had been closed recently. As he peeked around the jamb, he could see that the room had probably been a bedroom, with a surprisingly large closet crudely constructed in one corner.

Vail pulled his head back and leaned against the wall. Someone was in the house, and as far as he could tell, there were only two places to hide: in the locked room across from him or the closet in this bedroom. The fact that the one room had a locked door made it the more logical. The door, a hollow-core laminate, would not present any problem to kick in, but he wanted to eliminate the closet first. Once he determined that it was empty, then he could call Kalix in and they wouldn’t need to watch their backs as they went after the more likely target. With the two of them working in tandem, they could safely make entry into the locked room.

Raising his handgun to eye level, Vail went into the bedroom and moved quietly to the closet. Standing at the side, he grabbed the wooden knob on its door and pulled it open. When nothing happened, he looked in. It was empty, except for a full-length mirror that ran from the top to the bottom. What a bizarre place for a mirror, he thought.

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