Beyond Cover 1: Chapter 3

Last chapter, Emily and Dwayne attended the meeting with Gustav with the intention of purchasing diamonds from him to further their case against the network of Russian mobsters. But it quickly went wayward when Gustav was shot and killed, and a thief at the scene stole the diamonds and fled. Emily and Dwayne are left in the aftermath, possibly implicated in the murder of a mobster while undercover. What are they to do next?

“Who the hell else knew about this meeting?” Dwayne said, walking the floor of the safe house kitchen.

Secluded once more within the walls of their hideout, Dwayne lit a cigarette and ran a hand through his hair. How had this happened? And was this assassination about them or Gustav?

Emily shook her head. She unpinned the wig from her head and pulled it off with a sigh. “To my knowledge, only us and Gustav, unless he told someone else. We only arranged this meeting yesterday. Who could have found out and set this up so fast?”

“Either we have a traitor in our midst, or Gustav does, and I am pretty damn sure it isn’t us,” Dwayne replied.

“We’ve been air tight about who we trust,” Emily said. “But then again, we never really know these mobsters.”

“They all talk. They all fucking talk to each other,” Dwayne said, throwing a hand up. “There’s no way of knowing who was behind this.”

“We’re going to need to talk to Ruslan. Gustav worked under him. Ruslan will want to know what happened and why we were there,” Emily said.

Dwayne nodded and rubbed his forehead. “Yeah. I know. We need to talk to Oliver first. Some kind of lifeline within the ICB. We can’t navigate this one alone.”

January 27, 2016
Wednesday

A discreet hotel room. Beige walls. Some God-awful carpeting and cheap framed artwork from a big box store. A hotel; a bizarrely public place to be which served as the most private spot for a conversation with a colleague that would confirm to mobsters their position as cops.

Dwayne looked across the table at the agent taking notes. Bald. Striking blue eyes. Broad shoulders. An average white guy with forearms covered in tattoos of motorcycles and pin-up girls, visible with the sleeves of his dark blue button-up shirt rolled up to his elbows. As Emily gave her statement, Dwayne crossed his arms and watched quietly. He remembered when Oliver Upton was a mere rookie well over a decade ago, quiet but confident. A kid who had seen too much for his age and stood ready to take on the world in a job Dwayne had been sure would tear him down.

The irony lurked over Dwayne at how Oliver had become the one he and Emily relied on for a trustworthy lifeline within the International Crime Bureau when it remained unclear who could be trusted. Years before, Dwayne would have laughed at the thought.

“Gustav fell dead before I could process what happened,” Emily explained. Dwayne glanced at her. She stared at the wall behind Oliver. “I couldn’t even tell you which direction the gunshot came from. And we weren’t on scene long enough to process anything.”

“I understand,” Oliver said. “I spoke with the homicide detectives who arrived there. They confirmed it was one gunshot to the head from a distance. They figure from the rooftop of a nearby apartment building. It appears this was a sniper. The fact that only Gustav was shot speaks to who the target was. I don’t believe you guys were in any danger nor was your cover blown. There was no way to tell the detectives about the diamonds without exposing you two, so as of now, local police know nothing about that deal.”

“Local cops might be in the dark but what about our admin?” Dwayne asked. “Last we spoke, you said you had evidence that Johnson had links to the Russian mob.”

“I did. And I haven’t been able to do anything with that evidence yet. How do I tell our head office in England that our assistant director is in with the mob?” Oliver said. “I need more. Enough to prosecute, or else head office will laugh me out the door, Johnson fires me, and my career is over.”

“And we’re fucked,” Dwayne replied. “I get it. You’re putting your neck on the line as much as we are. Johnson could have you killed just as easy.”

“Well, I think he’s closer to doing it to you guys than he is me,” Oliver said. He leaned on his elbows on the table top and pointed the pen at Dwayne. “We know Johnson is taking bribes from the mob. But there’s an agent named Jeff Inger who is working on behalf of Johnson. Inger isn’t undercover. He’s taking the bribes for Johnson so our boss has some distance from his crimes. I may or may not have eavesdropped in on a meeting they had last night. They discussed Gustav’s murder and why it happened.”

Emily finally looked at Oliver. “What did they say?”

“They wanted the diamonds,” Oliver said. “But didn’t say why. I imagine that’s already established between them.”

“How did they know about this deal?” Emily asked.

“They didn’t say. Clearly, someone is watching you two more carefully than we thought, be it Inger or someone he’s hired to do so. Be careful out there. Gustav was the target this time, but next time we may not be so lucky,” Oliver said.

Dwayne rubbed his forehead and scoffed. “Fantastic. Just what we needed.”

“I wish I had better news. Detectives have no idea who is behind Gustav’s murder,” Oliver said, shaking his head.

“Neither do we,” Dwayne replied. “But we will see what we can find out.”

Emily nodded. “I don’t know if we can get the diamonds back, so there’s that evidence out the window. But if we can help solve Gustav’s murder, then it’s not all in vain.”

Dim lights of a laundromat barely lit the shadowy sidewalk. The sign above remained lit up. A closed sign hung on the door. Empty washers and dryers sat with an eerie quiet, the usual hums and whirs and beeps absent near midnight.

Emily followed the man after stepping off the bus at a nearby stop. To anyone else, she was merely a woman with shoulder-length, red hair, wearing a simple black t-shirt and blue jeans beneath a black winter jacket. She pretended to gaze at her phone as she walked, the screen lit up in her face while she scrolled and adjusted the backpack on her shoulder.

“Where’s he at?” Dwayne’s voice asked in her ear piece.

“Just passing the laundromat here,” Emily whispered. “Target is in sight.”

“Copy. Don’t get too close. Just enough to get some pictures and get out,” Dwayne said.

“Got it.”

Emily watched Inger step beneath the blue and red neon lights of a bar, then move out to the parking lot. The quiet of the buildings at the laundromat was replaced with the thumping bass of music and rambunctious hollers of drunks in the middle of the week. She paused and leaned against the brick wall with her phone still in her hand pretending she belonged there. She typed out messages without sending them, to keep up the appearance she was waiting for someone to join her. Her heart raced. Air escaped her as her chest tightened. She took a deep breath. She had no time to dwell in anxiety.

Another car pulled into the parking lot. Emily watched Inger approach it. She opened the camera on her phone and began taking pictures without changing her demeanor. She couldn’t see the driver, but she caught the mere seconds it took for Inger to pass a few piles of cash to them while standing at the driver’s side front window.

The car pulled away. Inger walked off down the street. Emily took a few more quick photos of the car and the license plate. She watched Inger disappear.

“Inger gave cash to someone in a car,” she whispered into her mic.

“Any idea how much?” Dwayne asked.

“Negative, but it was a few stacks of dollar bills. I couldn’t count anything, or hear their conversation,” she said.

“Hey, it’s something, kiddo,” Dwayne said. “What now?”

“I keep following him,” Emily said. She began walking the same way as Inger, still scanning the streets while pondering. What was Inger, an International Crime Bureau agent, doing in a parking lot handing cash to someone? If Inger was accepting bribes, he should have been the one taking the cash, not giving it away. Was he in debt? Did he have an addiction? In too deep with loan sharks?

This one small detail didn’t provide any new answers; it merely gave proof that Inger was, indeed, up to something.

Emily stayed a half-block away from Inger as she followed him through the streets. Her ability to blend in with the crowd preventing him from realizing the same red-headed woman had been on his tail since the bus stop.

As one crowd grew sparse, Inger began to turn around to look behind him. Emily slipped into the shadows along a wall, letting the night be her cover. Inger gazed at the street for a few seconds before he resumed walking. Emily gave him a head start, then continued her clandestine stalking.

Inger’s stroll took him a few more blocks before he entered a secured, newer apartment building. Emily lingered down the block in the shadows of trees lining the street and watched him enter.

She sighed and remained in the shadows for a few more minutes in case Inger stared out his window to see if he was being followed. A man who lived a double life would no doubt be paranoid. Gustav himself hadn’t even lived a double life that Emily knew of, and he still spent his days looking over his shoulder.

Emily stuck to the shadows as she began walking away.

“Looks like he went home,” she said into her mic. “I’m on my way back. I’ll fill you in on everything when I get there.”

If you missed the start of this book, chapter 1 can be found here.