The Export J.K. Kelly (best way to read e books .TXT) 📖

the six stitches to prove it, he took about five seconds to agree to her plan. Dale was right. This was going to be a very dangerous assignment, but living in the same house with them would make his job much easier, he hoped.

“I sent your driver back to the hotel to retrieve your things the minute I heard you had arrived. He’ll have them delivered to one of the guest rooms before you’ve finished lunch,” she added. “Russell always insists on lunch at high noon in his private dining room, one floor up, when he’s not running around Moscow doing who knows what. I’ll take you to meet Ray, he’s working in the communications office, and then we can all get together at noon.” With that, she smiled at both men and left the room as quickly as she had entered.

“Is she with the CIA?” Matt asked, half-jokingly.

“No,” Wilkerson laughed, “but she should be.”

“I like her plan,” Matt stated. “I needed to meet with you before I got moving, and this has been a big help already. The only thing I still need to know is how much are you willing to spend. Seriously.”

“I’ll match the CIA dollar for dollar up to a million to get this cleaned up. I assume you can work with that?”

“Yep,” Matt said as he stood up. “Now, if you can have someone show me around, I guess I’ll see you for lunch in a bit – Russ.”

The ambassador cringed. “Russell,” he responded and then led Matt through the door. He instructed an aide to have someone give Matt an informal, unrestricted tour of the facility, including answering any and all questions his friend asked. “He’s got clearance to see and do anything he wants.” Matt began to thank Wilkerson but was interrupted as a uniformed Marine rushed into the room.

“Mr. Ambassador, we have a serious problem.”

CHAPTER TWENTY-SEVEN

The news of the Marine’s arrest moved quickly through the embassy. The city police claimed that the Marine had entered a registered guest’s room and was caught by the maid stealing his belongings. She had dealt with the guest, someone who resembled an American movie star, earlier in the morning. He had requested more towels as he had been in some sort of accident the night before and his head was wounded. The police also claimed that when the maid had insisted Terry drop everything and leave the room, the Marine got rough with her. After nearly six hours of intense negotiation he was released from police custody and back within the safety of the Embassy. Of course, Terry had only been trying to retrieve Matt’s belongings on his behalf.

To make matters worse, it had taken a phone call from the U.S. Secretary of State to Russia’s foreign minister, a difficult one at best, to get Terry released. In a subsequent call from the secretary to Wilkerson, he let the ambassador know in no uncertain terms that despite his personal ties to the White House, this latest incident would be one of the final nails in Wilkerson’s coffin. After meeting with Hadden, Terry, and the ambassador, Matt grew even more frustrated with the web he had been drawn into.

“More signals. They’re sending more signals that we are up against a group bent on doing everything they can to embarrass the United States,” Matt concluded. “I need to get moving.”

Matt needed to know all of the puzzle pieces and after a short time, he sat down with Raymond Wilkerson in a small office on the third floor of the Embassy and got down to it. Matt’s phone vibrated once more, and he apologized to the young man, saying he needed a moment to check it.

Hey, George, I’m in Philly doing a shoot.

I can catch a train down to DC tonight if you want some company?

“Figures,” Matt said out loud. He quickly texted his response.

Glad to see you’re not in jail. Sorry. Out of the country for a week or so.

Will reconnect once I’m back in NA.

After the introductions, and at the ambassador’s direction, the son was to cooperate fully and answer all questions with total honesty. As Matt read the young man’s file, Ray sat across from him, quietly playing with his iPhone.

*

Raymond Wilkerson had been a bad boy. Only 20-years-old, he had already lived a life full of drugs, been popped for petty theft, and pretty much anything else worth embarrassing his parents. There had been a competition between father and son that Mrs. Wilkerson was unaware of, or at least seemed to be. When they moved to Moscow, Ray came with his parents after they’d promised that if he didn’t like it, he could go home. They’d failed to inform him beforehand that he’d be cut out of their wills, there would not be a home to return to, and he’d have to beg, borrow, or steal to get a plane ticket out of Russia.

In no time, Ray had started up his bad behavior again, only this time it wasn’t drugs – it was chasing the local women who worked at the Embassy. The father, always showing he was in command, always seeking to win at everything, totally demoralized his son by taking Ray’s 22-year-old girlfriend, Misha, from him. A twisted game evolved between the two Wilkerson men, competing to see who could conquer more women or lure a favorite away from the other. To their mutual surprise, the beautiful Misha, their favorite, turned up pregnant, quit the Embassy job, and ran to her family for guidance and to seek retribution. Matt read the dossier twice to be sure he didn’t miss a single fact, and then after reviewing it with Ray, he summed it up rather succinctly.

“Looks like you and your Dad have screwed your way into the record books,” he stated. “I can honestly say I thought I’d only see a story like this on a damn soap opera back home.”

“Nah,” Ray responded, putting down his phone and