That's the Chicago Way - 15. Chapter 15 - In Bed With Dogs

THAT’S THE CHICAGO WAY

Jack Scribe

The very fact that Chicago’s Broadway Bank has a long track record of lending money to thugs and criminals like Michael “Jaws” Giorango, Ugur Yildiz, and Tony Rezko should tell us everything we need to know about its former senior loan officer, Alexi Giannoulias, his judgment and whether he is suited to represent us in the United States Senate.

Ramparts 360

Postscript: Mr. Giannoulias, the Democratic candidate, narrowly lost the 2010 election. The winner, Senator Mark Kirk, had his own problems during the race by being caught embellishing his U.S. Navy service record.

Chapter 15, IN BED WITH DOGS

With a parched and stale mouth, numbness in his legs and a hollowed out emptiness in his stomach, Marv sat in the makeshift chair – for what seemed days – unhappily secured by the locked metal clamps. Rather than stare at the basement wall or the table with the laptop and toolbox sitting on top, he closed his eyes and dozed off. He was exhausted from the emotional trauma of the day and that element overrode his growing fears of personal safety.

“Little lunchtime nap? Rise and shine.” Gary shook Marv’s shoulder. “Miss me?”

Marv open his eyes and glared at his keeper. ‘That fucker. If I ever get a chance for payback…watch out.’ He noticed that Gary, smiling with a tinge of smug arrogance, was now wearing shorts and a tee. ‘Those clothes…is that a good sign?’ He cleared his dry throat and said, “I gotta go to the bathroom. What time is it and why am I still locked up like a dog…”

“...Bitch in heat?” Gary laughed loudly and shook his fisted hand in the air. “Sorry, I had one of those you-had-to-be-there moments.” He sighed and rested his arms. “To answer your first couple of questions, it’s a little after one…Wednesday afternoon.”

“Th…that’s all?”

“Yeah, I’ve only been gone a couple of hours. By the way, it’s a beautiful California day up there. And if you gotta go, might as well do it right where you are.” Gary walked over to the table and touched the laptop’s keyboard. “Better wake this up, too.”

Looks were definitely deceiving Marv. At first glance the previous evening, Gary appeared to be a relatively squeaky clean guy – compared to some of Rocco’s associates back in Chicago – who was there to do his bidding. It was part of the deal Marv had made. And then, literally hours ago, everything was turned upside down. Gary became something akin to a modern version of the Jekyll and Hyde story; Marv didn’t expect the good-guy Jekyll to return. Rocco’s image flashed through his mind. ‘That weasel. No, make it rat.’

“You talked to Rocco?” Marv now knew Gary had been gone over two hours and almost didn’t want to know what had been said between those two assholes. He looked down at his shriveled penis wedged between his thighs and willed himself not to pee. Marv’s concern was how much longer he could hold back a number two. ‘On the other hand, this is hardly a priority.’ The one thing in his favor was Gary being dressed. ‘Maybe he’s freeing me.’

“Ah, that prompts the answer to your original third question. Rocco wants you to stay where you are…for now.”

“But you promised.” Marv felt his heart flutter and speed up, prompting a few tears from his eye ducts.

“I don’t make the rules, Mr. Revson. Rocco asked me to thank you for the little gratuity but would really appreciate a larger taste.” Gary winked and nodded to the laptop. “Ergo, back to the Internet.”

“That was a million dollars you or he got…and there’s not much left in that account if I remember right,” Marv replied in more of a mumble.

“Then how about looking elsewhere. Rocco needs a little help on this house mortgage and suggested a contribution of five hundred grand would be appreciated. I guess you need to be a little more creative.” Gary picked up the hammer by the head and banged it on the same little finger that’d been targeted earlier.

“Eeeee…shit,” Marv screamed as pain jolted to his brain and back in a fraction of a second. “You didn’t have to do that for Christ’s sake.”

“That’s the way I was trained…I’m big on motivation.”

“Lemme think.” Marv frowned and wiggled his damaged finger. ‘Okay…maybe I can salvage this with the payroll account. I’m not going to beg, however.’ He coughed and felt snotty drool running from his nostrils. “There’s another account but I don’t know exactly what the balance is.”

“Who would, then?” Gary took a rag and wiped it across Marv’s nose and mouth.

“Evan…Jankovic. He’s my assistant and runs the businesses.”

“Give me the account number and we’ll worry about it if the transaction doesn’t work,” Gary replied. “Rocco can find Evan if we need help.”

‘Oh fuck…have I put Evan in danger?’ Marv coughed up some phlegm, spit it out and slowly recited the twelve numbers. Gary typed in the account numbers and then went through a series of more typing. The affirmative head shaking telegraphed the young man’s success in transferring the funds. Marv had effectively looted his own company; without a serious infusion, the businesses would be in ruin within thirty days. He watched as Gary reached underneath the table, brought up a bottle of water and opened it.

“Now that wasn’t so hard, was it? I know Rocco will be very pleased.” Gary brought the bottle of water to Marv’s lips. “Ergo, treat time, Rover. Lean back and open your mouth.”

Marv did as he was told and felt the first rush of water flow into his mouth. He swallowed and started to gag when the stream came too fast. Gary pulled the bottle away until Marv was able to complete the swallow and then poured more water at a slower rate. With a little effort, he was able to finish the bottle and sighed when Gary took the bottle away. He didn’t appreciate the ‘Rover’ comment but sadly accepted that he’d roll over and jump through hoops if it would get him free.

“Tell you what,” Gary said as he tossed the bottle aside, “I’m going back upstairs and see what’s up with Rocco and his accountant. If everything’s alright, maybe I’ll fix some lunch for you and let you leave.”

‘A glimmer of hope?’ Marv thought, and he sat still while his body re-hydrated. ‘Whatever happened to this honor among thieves shit. Whatever…I’d better keep still.’

“Um, one more thing.” Gary paused and stared with intenseness. “I know Rocco will probably be interested in your 401K funds…they must be deposited somewhere.”

Silence.

Marv was afraid this moment would come. The big enchilada. The other accounts were only ‘chump change.’

“Whaduya think? Might make the boss really happy.” Gary’s wry smile was somewhere between patient and exasperated.

“That’s all tied up with my office and accountants,” Marv mumbled.

“I’ll pass the info on. He can probably handle it from Chicago.” Gary waved and added, “See you later.”

Gary left his eyesight and Marv could hear him walking up the basement stairs. The door at the top closed. The newest twist to this bad dream was the final of final straws. While he’d never spoken with Rocco about his personal funds, it probably didn’t take much imagination to figure out there was a pile of gold somewhere.

‘Oh, no.’ Marv’s bladder seemed to have a mind of its own and he felt the warmness of his piss spill out.

~~~~~

Scotty removed his Glock 22 from its holster and slid into the driver’s seat of the black GMC Denali – custom armor plated per AOI’s specifications – which he’d parked at the rear loading dock of the office building. He rested the semi-automatic in a specially-designed area under the dash console, attached his Bluetooth headset and slipped the key into the ignition to fire up the 6.2 liter, 403 horsepower Vortec Engine. ‘Probably gets eight miles to the gallon if the wind’s behind me.’ He pushed the ignition button and the V-8 came to life.

His day had been interrupted when he’d received an urgent call from his boss only an hour earlier with this assignment. Nothing was said concerning Scotty’s Sunday encounter with Evan Jankovic, but he was sure this history was an important factor in being chosen. ‘Talk about irony of ironies; on Sunday night I’m boffing the dude and three days later I’m protecting him. All in the line of duty.’

The back door opened and out came Evan. Scotty noted that Evan was dressed in a more conventional mode – white button-down shirt, a red and gold ‘rep’ pattern tie, Tan slacks and brown tassel loafers. ‘And the dude’s demeanor has definitely changed.’ His client bounded down the four steps and got into the SUV. An eyebrow shot up when Evan noticed the handgun resting in a deep well under the dashboard.

“Ready?”

“As ready as I’m going to be. I told the secretary I had an appointment off-site and would be gone for the day.”

“Good move. Best not to arouse any suspicions.”

Scotty buckled his belt and waited for Evan to get settled. He shifted into gear and slowly drove around to the front of the building; there was only a muted hum from the powerful engine. Through the dark tinted window, he studied the parking lot to pick up anything that appeared to be out of the norm. Nothing jumped out at him. ‘Bunch of worker bee cars…that’s all.’

“I’m going to take a very long route to the expressway,” Scotty said as he looked around one more time. “This gives me a chance to make sure we’re not being followed.”

“Is that a possibility?” Evan loosened his tie and undid the top button. “This whole good guys, bad guys routine is fairly new to me.”

“Highly unlikely at this moment. On a scale of one to ten, I give it a ‘one’ for the time being. You were very wise, Evan, to immediately contact the Feds when you noticed the large withdrawal from your company’s business account. I’ll be honest; they have no idea where Mr. Revson is…but your call will help them.”

“Help in what way?”

“The hunt for Revson is nationwide in scope by the FBI. We were brought in because of the possibility you might be in danger.”

“I don’t quite understand,” Evan replied. “The FBI is a big friggin’ organization.”

“Big? Absolutely, with all the latest tools of the trade. And awesome in tracking down the bad guys, to use your term. The Feds have an overwhelming force in storming an operation…like they did at your office the other day…but AOI does a better job of protecting potential targets ‘on the fly.’ Same thing goes with setting up undercover surveillance operations at the drop of a dime. We’re prepared to roll in most major American and European cities at a moment’s notice.”

“Sounds like it’s safe to assume your company works closely with the FBI?”

“Whenever we’re needed,” Scotty said. “And right now there’s a need. I don’t want to be an alarmist…but this is a classic example of the old saying, ‘better be prepared than sorry’.” He turned to Evan for a moment and switched on a reassuring expression. There was a fine line of keeping a client in crisis from knowing the exact risks looming and Scotty was trained to maintain that firewall.

“What can you tell me?” Evan asked. “I don’t know much more than what I told the FBI.”

“Here’s the big picture. The FBI knows - and so do we - that you basically don't know squat about the smarmier details of your boss's shady life.” Scotty said. ‘Although I know a lot more, pal…but that’s beside the point,’ he thought, steering onto the street. “The problem is…the infamous they don’t know you have limited knowledge. And we're not sure who they are at this point.” He didn’t add that his job was double fold: to protect Evan and also use him as bait to flush out the perpetrators. “Until they get a handle on Mr. Revson’s condition, I’m sticking to you like glue.” He grinned while thinking of using a body fluid for this analogy, but knew it wouldn’t be professional. ‘And a little gross.’

“Like last Sunday?” Evan leaned back and laughed. “Sorry, I couldn’t resist…but we shouldn’t be talking about our recent history. Right?”

“History is just that.” Scotty was amused their minds seemed to be running in tandem. “But just for the record, I enjoyed meeting you.”

“Same here. But…maybe we can start again with a new page once everything gets resolved.”

Scotty nodded and said nothing more. ‘No reason to pursue this road right now.’

They turned onto Golf Road and drove a few blocks when Scotty suddenly turned onto a quiet side street. A UPS truck, that’d been following, stopped in front of a house. Scotty diligently watched the rearview mirror and didn’t see anyone else tailing him. ‘I think we’re cool.’ He slowly made his way over to Skokie Boulevard and entered the Edens Expressway.

“That was a picturesque drive,” Evan said as they sped southbound. “I’ve never seen the neighborhood around our office.”

“All part of our tour service.” Scotty chuckled, more as a way to sooth his client, and added, “I’m going directly to your apartment now. The next point of caution will be your building. Excuse me while I check in.” He pushed the Bluetooth button on the steering wheel, said, “AOI,” and waited for the connection.

Ops. Everything clear at your end?”

“Evasive departure and negative results.”

“Mobile One reports no activity at 1360 Lake Shore Drive.”

“ETA 1600 at the latest. Will enter through the garage and go directly up to apartment 522.”

Scottie had Mobile One programmed in his phone and, per the operation plan, would speak directly with the two associates parked in the unmarked van before arrival. Operations had arranged for Scotty to use a vacant garage space, secluded in a corner out of view. One of the negatives in driving a rigged Denali was that it stood out and the last thing Scotty wanted to do was announce his presence.

“Noted…1600 ETA. How is the client handling the situation?”

“Calm. Will advise of change.” Scotty always spoke with minimum words – it was easier to communicate and it didn’t alarm a third party. ‘No reason to get Evan wound up…if I can help it.’

“Ten-four.”

“That was your office?” Evan asked.

“Checking in and verifying there’s no activity at your apartment building.” Scotty briefly glanced over and noticed Evan gripping the armrests and staring ahead. ‘Tense…don’t blame him.’

“I guess I understand why the protection is needed…it just seems so surreal.” Evan turned to face Scotty. “I saw those creepy guys going in and out of Marv’s office…and accepted it as the way he did business. There was never any indication that others were involved in whatever Marv did off the books. And then they end up missing or dead.”

“You had no idea Marv was up to his eyeballs in illegal or shady business deals?” It occurred to Scotty that Evan was much less animated or larger-than-life than he was on Sunday. ‘Mellow and more likeable.’

“Truth time? Yeah…I knew he was doing deals that didn’t appear on our records or weren’t reported as income, and that he and Sean O’Reilly were working together. But, in both cases, that’s as far as it went. I’d pass on messages to Sean, and vice versa. Period. And I filed away shit for Marv.” Evan sighed and asked, “You’re not recording me or anything, are you? The last thing I need is to…”

“...Hey, I’m not a cop, I just play one on TV.” Scotty replied with a chuckle. “But I assume all that’s gone down over the past few days has opened your eyes. Right?”

“Only too well. This has been a real shocker and I’m not naïve about understanding why someone like you would show up. In the pecking order of the operation, I’m potentially next in line.”

“If there’s a line,” Scotty said. “After this is over, maybe you can chalk it off as a major learning experience…all the way around. Let me toss out this observation: behind your carefully constructed veneer seems to be a likeable guy. You’re obviously bright…but you don’t need to try so hard to let people know it.” He tilted his head and shrugged. “Enough said for now. We’ve got to be prepared in case there’s another learning experience.” Scottie decided he’d ratchet up the reality and get Evan prepared for whatever was to come. ‘Which might be nothing.’

“You’re the boss on this one,” Evan said. “And thanks for the personal observation. I…I needed that.”

“No problem.”

Scottie eased over to the right lane, got off the expressway and meandered over to North Street. He looked at other vehicles exiting and didn’t get a vibe that they were being followed. They continued on a direct path to the apartment building and drove to the garage entry. He spotted the AOI Ford van, activated his phone and spoke directly to Mobile One.

“Everything quiet?”

“Like a dormouse. Call once you get in the apartment and we’ll take off.”

“Will do.” Scotty drove to the reserved space in the back of the garage and backed in. He picked up his firearm and put it back in its holster, got out of the SUV, and retrieved his canvas bag from the back seat. They entered the lobby door and Evan picked up his mail before going up to the fifth floor. The door to 520 was open and Scotty noticed the studio apartment had been emptied. The walls had been freshly painted and a worker was shampooing the carpet. ‘Life goes on.’ He automatically looked back towards the elevator area while Evan opened the door to 522.

“Me first.” Scotty entered the apartment and quickly checked out the rooms. Nothing. But there was an indication Evan had fallen behind in housekeeping. A few dirty dishes were resting on the coffee table, along with an empty pizza box. The bedroom contained a few small piles of clothing. ‘Probably not on the top of his priorities right now.’ He motioned Evan to enter.

The first thing Evan did was to set his laptop carrying case on the kitchen ledge and bus the mess from the coffee table. “I’d make some lame excuse about the cleaning lady having the day off…but the truth is things haven’t been going so well for me. This place has become nothing more than somewhere to crash.”

“Maybe that’ll change once all this is behind you.”

“Guess I don’t have to show you around,” Evan said with a snicker. “I’d offer you an adult beverage…but that’s probably a no-go. How about water?”

“Water’s good…for both of us.” Scotty was going to add he’d take a rain check on anything with alcoholic content, but let it pass. “Planning ahead, have you got food for tonight? As you can appreciate, we’re not dining out or calling for a take-out delivery.” He set his canvas bag on the coffee table and joined Evan in the kitchen.

“I’ve got picked over roast chicken, some veggies and an array of Healthy Choice frozen dinners.” Evan shrugged and added, “A bevy of culinary delights.”

“Five star dining, for sure.” Scotty momentarily thought about his visit to this apartment, and the sleuthing next door, only three evenings earlier. He watched Evan open the refrigerator door and glanced at his host’s backside. ‘We can’t play tonight…but maybe once this assignment is over, I can figure out if that’s something I want to do.’

“Passing on a glass of chardonnay is tough, but I understand.” Evan had two bottles of water in his hand and offered one to Scotty. “Time to be nimble.”

“And wise,” Scotty added. “Although we’re off Lake Shore Drive and in a residential area, I’d prefer keeping the blinds closed. And later tonight, keeping a low profile…low as in not standing in front of the windows.” With the apparent efficiency of his adversaries – if the recent murders and Revson’s disappearance were any indication – he wanted to be evasive against sniper fire.

“So, what do we do now?” Evan asked as he pulled the blinds.

“Reading, TV, laptop…whatever you need to do. Maybe eat around six?”

“Okay, blinds down and lay low. I’m changing into something more comfortable.” Evan wiggled his eyebrows and went into the bedroom.

~~~~~

Marv was distraught – emotionally and physically. Immobilized in the grip of fright. Embarrassed that his bowels had recently erupted: the odor was extremely unpleasant, to say nothing of the messy squishiness in the chair seat. Occasionally he could hear the ceiling creaking when Gary – he assumed – was walking somewhere on the first floor.

Time was again lost in his mind. Being a captive didn’t wear well and Marv was falling apart, one shingle at a time. His survival instincts were shutting down and the only thoughts centered on going beyond. The years of clever and shrewd business dealings, a comfortable home life and his doting wife, and a fortune that awaited him…everything was fading fast. In his mind, sand flowed through an hourglass. ‘How did this happen to me?’ he wondered. ‘When did I lose control?’

The door opened and Marv heard the clomping sound of Gary returning to the basement.

“Pee yew,” Gary said, stopping after a few steps. “Be right back.”

Although Marv expected another long wait, Gary’s statement turned out to be correct. Within moments he was back in the basement and facing Marv.

“Rocco’s not happy.” Gary glared with a frown and picked up the hammer by its handle.

Marv opened one eye and noticed Gary had changed back to the apron and cap. On his nose was some sort of clip. ‘Not a good sign,’ he thought when he saw the hammer. Marv opened his mouth but couldn’t say anything – he was temporarily paralyzed. Only a raspy hiss came out.

“Pay attention, Mr. Revson.” With the nose clip, Gary had a slightly nasal quality in his voice.

Gary banged the hammer on the table and Marv shuddered with a jolt. The most he’d moved in several hours.

“That’s better.” Gary stepped closer and said, “Rocco is most interested in reviewing what you’ve put away for a rainy day.”

He raised his other hand, which held a large mug filled with clear liquid, and flung the contents at Marv’s face. The sudden splash of water seemed to bring Marv back to a clearer sense of the present. He greedily licked the dripping water from his lips and sighed. “Rainy day…what…I don’t understand…”

“Listen, old man, my patience has run out. Rocco knows you’ve got a sizeable pile of moola in offshore accounts. No playing games anymore…he wants it.” Gary set down the mug and slapped Marv in the face with maximum force.

“Oeoooooooooooow,” Marv screamed. His eyes instantly widened and he experienced a blinding flash of whiteness, followed by shooting colors pulsing in his mind. Then darkness. Finally black.

~~~~~

Only an hour earlier, Oleg Petrov had gotten an urgent request from the L.A. FBI to quickly assemble a covert task force and investigate a house located near Pasadena. It surprised Oleg that this call was related to the Revson and O’Reilly case in Chicago. However, this was just another job to execute. Quickly assemble a skilled team of covert and undercover forces on extremely short notice – considerably faster than either the FBI or, in this case, the local police – and see it through and see it through to a successful conclusion. Sleepy San Marino was noted for its masterful mansions and the famous Huntington Library; its law enforcement was superior in responding to home burglaries, traffic enforcement and neighborhood watch patrols.

Time and stealth were the factors – the challenge to save a person’s life and to bust a dangerous criminal ring were too important to wait until federal personnel could be assembled. Chicago’s FBI office had been following the origin of certain electronic fund transfers that involved Revson company bank accounts. Because the suspect computer was not turned off, their GPS satellite was able to identify the exact location and that information was relayed to Los Angeles. In short order, a verbal contract between the Assistant Director in Charge of the FBI's Los Angeles field office and Oleg Petrov was made. Oleg had been pleased to learn Scotty Carter had been assigned to handle security in Chicago for Evan Jankovic. Complete continuity.

He quickly plucked Gordy Bostwick and Stan Bernstein out of the available AOI staff pool for the job. They were both in the office and changed, along with Oleg, as fast as possible into appropriate gear. This consisted of black jeans, black tee and Five Finger shoes, along with holstered Glock 22s and wireless tactical communication devices. Oleg was pleased to have two experienced men in their twenties at his side; although he was only thirty-nine, he valued the support of those who had a slightly quicker response time and compatible skills. Gordy had been a member of the USMC Special Reaction Force and Stan was a SWAT team leader during his LAPD stint.

It took only ten minutes to travel from the Century City heliport to the JPD heliport in Pasadena where a FBI special agent met them. Just before 3:30 p.m. Pacific time, Oleg and his team were parked around the corner from the house in question behind two more SUVs containing FBI personnel, and one unmarked San Marino Police sedan. The plan was for the AOI crew to slip into the house, ascertain the situation and take appropriate action. Throughout the mission, the FBI force would listen to the communication amongst the AOI team. In everyone’s mind, first and foremost, was to secure the house and save Mr. Revson’s life, if he was there. Second, to apprehend whoever had transferred the funds and turn over the person or persons to the FBI.

The entry gate to the estate grounds was open and the team quickly slipped by the landscaped covering up to the house. They lucked out with the house security system. Stan visually located the touch pad of the system, mounted on a wall inside near the front door, and a green light indicator. He communicated that information to Oleg and Gordy, who were making a perimeter sweep around the house, each man taking a different side. Gordy spotted one suspect in the kitchen, wearing nothing more than an apron and clogs, talking into a cell phone, and passed on that information. Oleg reported no activity on the opposite side of the house and found a door with small glass panels on the terrace. He told Stan to meet him on the terrace and asked Gordy for an update.

“Subject just put the cell phone down on a counter and appears to be heading through a doorway. Because of the downward motion, I’m assuming he’s heading to the basement.”

“Meet me at the terrace for entry,” Oleg said. With a suspect I.D.’d, searching the old mansion was imperative.

Stan cut a glass pane and removed it with a suction cup. Gordy joined them and they quietly entered a well-appointed room that appeared to be a combination entertainment center and library. Oleg passed that information on to the FBI. They moved through the room and cautiously slipped into the formal front foyer with a large stairway that led to the second floor. He oriented himself and hand-signaled for Stan to secure the upstairs area. With firearms drawn, Oleg and Gordy split up to check out the other rooms on the first floor while focusing on the kitchen and the suspect.

It was quiet until the two men separately approached the target area. Oleg was standing between the formal dining room and the kitchen when he heard the muffled screams coming from below. ‘Undoubtedly the basement.’ In a low voice, almost a whisper, Oleg announced his evaluation of the noise and location.

Gordy was at the rear entry to the kitchen. Stan was still on the second floor and had just reported it was clear and secure. He observed that the stairway continued to a third floor and was going to check it out. Oleg hand-signaled for Gordy to proceed to the open door that led to the basement; he did the same and they met, flanking the doorway. Before they could execute a plan to enter the lower area, they heard a voice.

“You worthless piece of shit. Wake up…I know you’re faking.”

A slap against flesh was very clear to Oleg. He raised his eyebrow, looked at Gordy and put up his hand as a signal to wait. The statement concerned Oleg because it indicated someone – possibly Revson – was not conscious. ‘However, whoever’s talking seems to be alone.’

“Fuck you, old man,” the voice said. “Your pulse is just fine and you’re certainly not going anywhere, so I’m going up to take a coffee break.”

There followed the sound of feet stomping up the stairway. Oleg remembered that the suspect was wearing clogs. ‘No wonder he’s making so much noise.’

Oleg and Gordy stationed themselves in assault mode and prepared to confront the suspect. Oleg planned on drawing the man’s attention to his Glock, followed by a verbal warning. Gordy would stay behind the suspect and be ready to physically restrain him.

“When this is over, I’ll be ready for a beer…at least,” the suspect said as he approached the top of the stairs.

He stepped up into Oleg’s line of sight but didn’t realize immediately he had company. He stopped and was momentarily startled. “Who…what…”

“Stop right there.” Oleg raised his Glock slightly and stepped back to be out of the suspect’s reach. “Down on your stomach.” He thought the suspect’s dress – or lack of it – was a little odd, but concluded it was for a reason. ‘This guy was obviously protecting himself from blood sprays. But he looks clean, so I think we got here in time.’ The USMC tattoo was a tell about the man’s potential danger.

“Who are you? This is a big mistake.”

“Down…now,” Oleg barked. “My man behind you can help if it’s necessary.”

The suspect lowered himself to his knees, placed his hands in front of him and eased into a prone position.

“Spread your legs, place your arms behind your back and look straight ahead.” Oleg couldn’t help but smile for a moment at the suspect’s image – butt-ass naked with his balls and dick caught between his legs. ‘Under different circumstances, this dude would be very fuckable.’

Gordy immediately retrieved plastic restraints from his pocket and secured the suspect’s wrists.

“Suspect is restrained in kitchen,” Oleg announced. “The back door will be opened for your entry.” He motioned for Gordy to unlock the door that led out to the garage and rear garden. “Stan, report your progress.” He motioned for Gordy to go down to the basement.

“Third floor secure. The FBI will want to search one room that is filled with file cabinets and a computer. Also, there is clothing and I.D. that possibly belongs to suspect.”

“What is your name?” Oleg asked the passive suspect.

“Bite me.”

“Sorry, I’m not hungry,” Oleg replied, with more than a hint of irony in his voice.

Gordy's voice came over clear from the radio earpiece. “Reporting one male Caucasian…age around sixty…in basement, unconscious with a slow pulse. Request EMS and ambulance. Subject is immobile due to being restrained by wrist and ankle clamps in a makeshift chair.”

Oleg heard the first of the vehicles drive past the kitchen and park in the rear courtyard. A quick visual confirmed that all the SUVs had all arrived. By prior arrangement, the unmarked San Marino Crown Vic was to stay at the driveway street entrance until black and whites could arrive. Although it was an FBI operation, the local police were welcome to participate after the fact.

The first two agents, wearing blue windbreakers with large FBI block letters stenciled in yellow, entered the kitchen.

“Gentleman, I’m officially relieving our team.” It was S.O.P. not to mention AOI in front of any suspect or stranger. Oleg holstered his weapon and continued. “This man has been uncooperative so far as to stating his name. However, I.D…probably his…is on the third floor. Would you mind if I joined you in the basement?”

“Let’s go,” replied the lead special agent.

It was late afternoon in San Marino and early evening in Chicago.

________________________

TO BE CONTINUED

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