* * * *
Jason shoved the door to the house on Blackwell Avenue open.
He, Corey, and Agent Smith rushed in fully armed.
What they found crushed his hope for Shane. The place looked abandoned.
“This is a fucking dead end.” Corey’s face filled with worry for his brother.
“The cameras in every corner tell me that this was the pro
perty of someone pretty paranoid,” Smith said.
Jason agreed. “Probably Mitrofanov. His home in Destiny had a ton of surveillance equipment.”
“I read the report on that.” Smith handed him and Corey rubber gloves. “It blew up with one of the Agency’s best inside, didn’t it?”
“Agent Black.” Jason remembered the explosion. “He was a good man.”
“Fuck. This doesn’t help me one damn bit. I need to find my brother.” Corey holstered his gun and pulled out his ROC. “I’m contacting Brown.”
“Hold on.” Jason pointed to the only thing in the space—a metal folding chair near the back wall. “There’s something in the seat.”
“A bomb?” Smith kept his gun in his hand.
Jason took a step closer. “Looks like a laptop. There’s an ashtray on the floor, too.” It was filled with cigarette butts. He bent down. “They all have red lipstick on them.”
“Who the hell is the woman?” Corey stepped forward, likely to get a closer look.
“Mitrofanov doesn’t have a woman working for him,” Smith informed. “This is very strange.”
Jason opened the laptop and what he saw shocked him to his very core.
An image of Shane appeared on the screen. He was sitting in a chair, his hands behind his back and a gun to his head.
The man holding the gun was none other than Niklaus Mitrofanov.
“Motherfucker.” Corey was clearly unable to contain his rage.
Under the photo was an arrow with the word More.
Jason clicked on it and a text message filled the screen.
Gentlemen,
As you can see, I have Shane Blue in my custody. I understand you care for him deeply. Having lost my son and nephews to tragic endings, I know how you must feel seeing him in such dire straits. Unlike what I received from you and your little town, I offer you a chance to change his circumstances.
I want to negotiate with you, Sheriff Wolfe. I’m sure we can come to an agreement that will benefit us both.
I calculate your driving time to be at an hour to get to my location. Be here in fifty or poor Shane will not be among us anymore.
Come directly to 11368 South Mainstee Road. Come now.
Sincerely,
Niklaus Mitrofanov
Chapter Fifteen