The Truant Officer (40 page)

Nick smiled. “It was a risky proposition, but I never run from a danger. I’ve learned this past few months that living on the edge can be quite exhilarating.”

Kessler smiled back at him, his capped, white teeth glowing in the dark. “I had no other choice. I had enough clout with the US government to get you out of New York, but with Viktor’s continuing negative drag on my approval rating, I didn’t have the political influence to authorize a safe landing at Ben Gurion, and a taxi to Netanya. I would have been overruled and none of you would’ve gotten off that plane without a few new holes in you. Believe it or not, the plane crash was the safest route.”

Their stroll stalled at the cliffs. They looked down at the water below and took cautionary steps back away from the edge. Still looking down the treacherous elevator shaft to the deadly sea, Nick informed, “The hijackers are all dead. Died in the crash. The McLaughlins and Dava Lazinski.”

“We captured Zubov on the grounds, trying to make a run for it.”

“Zubov is loyal to me—I want him released.”

Kessler shook his head. “I’m sorry, Nick, but I’m going to need some raw meat to throw to the animals. He will be a symbol of my strength. As if to say nobody comes into Israel and dictates terms as long as Ati Kessler is in charge. It’s important to show that kind of strength in this part of the world.”

“And how would such an arrangement benefit me?”

“If my power is strong, then your interests will be strengthened—especially since you have taken over your father’s business. What is good for me is good for you, Nick,” he said with a friendly pat on the back.

They headed back toward the lights of the mansion.

“So what do you want to happen now?” Kessler asked.

“I want to go home to New York. It’s been a hectic couple of days.”

“I will just need one more thing from you to make that happen.”

“And what is that?”

“I want access to Viktor’s secret video surveillance. The ones of Ms. Gold and myself are of specific interest.”

They moved into the mansion and Nick disappeared into Viktor’s bedroom to oblige the request. Kessler looked across the room at Audrey. He walked to her and slowly ran his eyes over her every curve. He whispered, “I hope Nick and I will be doing a lot of
business
in the future.”

She turned away with disgust, understanding that business meant the same thing if it was father or son.

Nick returned with a package of disks. They stepped back outside and he handed them to Kessler.

“These are all of them, Nick? I want to think we’re getting off on the right foot.”

Nick looked offended by the accusation. “Have I not been honest with you every step of the way? If not for me, you wouldn’t even have known about the tapes or any other blackmail tactics Viktor was using against you. And be sure to check the disks to see if copies have been made—I know you have such technology.”

“Just remember that your father was an honest man at one point. Maybe not to his family or in his businesses, but to his fellow vors, and that is what’s most important. I now consider you a vor, Nick, and it’s important that we remain honest with each other.” He stared menacingly at Viktor’s dead body. “Because a relationship built on lies always ends badly.”

Chapter 97

8 Days Later

Jessi Stafford smiled into the camera like a woman who just signed a multi-year deal with GNZ to host her own prime-time show. And her first assignment was an exclusive interview with heroic hijack victim, Nick Zellen.

They sat facing each other in the lavish but comfy living room of his Long Island mansion. He looked back at her with his intense eyes, his dark hair slicked back. He was dressed business casual in a button-down shirt and khakis, no tie.

“I’d first like this opportunity to welcome you home, Nick,” Jessi started.

“Your reporting might have helped keep me alive. If I wasn’t able to tell my story from the plane, who knows what would’ve happened.”

“Your modesty aside, the courage you displayed likely saved not only your life, but the lives of the others aboard the plane, including pop sensation Natalie Gold.”

Nick continued shyly, “I would love to tell you a heroic tale in which I was the brave protagonist, but the boring truth is that the plane hadn’t been completely fueled when it was hijacked. So there was no other choice but to attempt a crash landing on the water. After that, survival instincts kicked in, just as they would for anyone put in such a precarious position.”

“Tell me about the crash—many aviation experts claimed that it was a one in a million shot that anyone could survive it.”

Nick turned emotional, his voice cracking, “It was horrible. I had never felt an impact like that—it was like someone had taken a baseball bat to my body. And I can still hear the noise pounding in my head over a week later. When we hit the water, the tail ripped completely off and Natalie was sucked out. I thought she was dead.”

“While you and Natalie thankfully made it, we have confirmed that the three main hijackers—Darren and Lilly McLaughlin, along with Dava Lazinski—are all dead. And that the fourth hijacker, the assassin Zubov, is being held in an Israeli prison.”

“It is a great relief to know they will no longer be able to hurt innocent people.”

“But your ordeal didn’t end with the crash.”

“That’s right. Darren McLaughlin, who was piloting the plane, had instructed Viktor Sarvydas’ men as to where the plane would likely go down, based on fuel estimates. So while we withstood the crash, we were taken to face Sarvydas. Thankfully, Prime Minister Kessler had the courage to send troops in to save us.”

“The man he saved you from, Viktor Sarvydas—what do you think his motivation was to harm you?”

“While many knew Viktor as a music producer, he also had a dark side that was hidden behind the legitimacy of his work. In fact, he was responsible for the murder of my parents.”

“You witnessed the murder of Karl Zellen, which was carried out by his son, Alexei Sarvydas. It was also the reason why you were in the Witness Protection Program in Arizona under the name Brett Buckley.”

“That is correct.”

“In the program, you were protected by a US federal marshal who has been identified as Chelsea Fitzpatrick. Initial reports were that Ms. Fitzpatrick might be involved in the kidnapping plot, but we have since learned that her shooting of Alexei Sarvydas actually saved your life.”

“I owe her a debt of gratitude. Her bravery is the reason I’m here to talk to you.”

“All attempts by GNZ to contact Ms. Fitzpatrick have been unsuccessful—all we know is she has resigned from her position. We would like to have her tell her heroic story, do you think you could help us locate her?”

Nick shook his head. “I’ve had no contact with her since the incident at Sarvy’s. And I learned from my time in witness protection that those working in the program often use aliases to remain undercover, so Fitzpatrick might not even be her real name. And I wouldn’t want her, or anybody connected to the program, to be put in any danger created by a media storm.”

“This past week, the agencies involved have come under intense criticism for their handling of your protection, but it doesn’t sound like you harbor any ill will.”

“Despite what happened, including the leaks, I believe everyone involved did their best to protect me. We are talking about one rogue agent in Dava Lazinski, who was responsible for my cover being blown, and is not a reflection on the many hard working people in the FBI, US Federal Marshals, and the US Attorney’s Office, especially US Attorney Eicher who was in charge of the case.”

Jessi smiled, hoping to lighten the proceedings a little. “This might be a little off the subject, Nick, but one of the things that fascinated me about your journey is that you had to return to high school. That would have been the scariest part for me.”

He laughed. “I tried to make the best of it. My first time in high school, the biggest obstacles were my social awkwardness and battles with acne. This time it was my teacher and her husband luring me into their web to deliver me to a Russian mob boss. So I guess you could say it was different types of challenges.”

Jessi’s smile faded, her look turning serious. “Since you brought up the now deceased Lilly McLaughlin, your affair with a married woman seems very out of character for you.”

Nick turned emotional once again. “It was stupid, I know. Not that it’s an excuse, but it was a very vulnerable time for me—my mother and girlfriend had been murdered—and in some strange way, Lilly took on both their roles—a mother-figure and lover. I guess I was an easy target for her, and I’m sure Viktor Sarvydas knew that.”

“One final thing—what I find to be the most ironic twist to this whole case, is that due to a legally binding contract between Karl Zellen and Viktor Sarvydas, you are now in charge of the businesses vacated by the man who tried to kill you, including Sarvy Music.”

Nick nodded. “Karl and Viktor went back to when they were young men held captive in the Soviet Union. When they came to America, they vowed to always keep the Russian roots in their businesses through family. While their union ended in tragedy, the agreement between the two men lives on, as does their legacy in the business world. And with Viktor having no heirs to the throne, so to speak, it was left to me and my sister Sasha.”

“Critics say with your lack of experience, you are unqualified to run a multi-national corporation.”

“Well, I am qualified enough to know one thing—that integrity has nothing to do with experience. It’s what I plan to return to the business. That’s what Karl Zellen wanted to bring back to the company before Viktor…”

His words trailed off.

Jessi reached across to him and patted his hand. “This must have been such a terrible experience for you.”

A smile appeared on his face. “It wasn’t all bad, I guess.”

Jessi looked surprised. “Talk about the glass being half full—other than your ultimate survival, what could you possibly take as a positive from this experience?”

Nick’s smile turned coy. “I met a great girl.”

As if on cue, Natalie Gold walked into the room. They kissed and sat cozily on the couch. It was like the ratings gods were smiling down on Jessi.

After Jessi finished her questions about their relationship, Nick took a knee before Natalie and opened a ring box. Jessi had never seen a diamond that big!

“When Audrey died,” Nick began, eyes welling with tears. “I never thought that I could fall in love again. But the minute I met you on that airplane, I knew I wanted to spend the rest of my life with you. Natalie Gold...will you marry me?”

Chapter 98

8 Months Later– December

The man strolled down Boston’s Newbury Street as a light snow fell. The famed street was decked out for Christmas with elaborate decorations, and festive carolers sang on street corners. But the man wasn’t in the holiday spirit. The past year had taken a toll on him.

He took note of the 19th-century brownstones that lined the street. The neighborhood—now called the Back Bay area, built after the harbor was scaled back in 1860—reminded him of his own life, surrounded by the past, but still marching forward.

As he continued toward his destination, he entered the shopping district. It was full of trendy fashion shops—Chanel, Donna Karan, Armani, and Prada. But there was nothing fashionable about his own look. He wore a black skullcap pulled low on his head, along with a ratty sweater and jeans. Heavy black army boots warmed his feet.

He dropped some spare change into the cup of a street Santa, and when he looked up he noticed the young woman in the crowd. She wore a weathered Red Sox cap and had a backpack slung over her shoulder. She looked like a student, perhaps at the nearby Berklee College of Music.

His plan was to go to the opening of the new Sarvy Music store up the street. He wasn’t interested in purchasing any new CDs; his intent was to thank an old friend for saving his life, or at least trying to. But the woman in the Red Sox hat changed his plans. The last eight months had proven to him the old axiom—
man plans and God laughs.
If anything, he’d learned that you have to be fluid in life and be able to change on the fly. This was a big change from his past thinking.

He followed the woman past the Exetor Street Theater, which looked more like a Tudor mansion than a movie theater. Then into an area made up of deconstructionist buildings. They were designed at crazy angles, looking as if they were colliding together. After walking a few more blocks, he concluded that the woman was going to the same place he was.

The Sarvy Music store was a forty thousand square foot, high-tech entertainment retailer. It was opened last night with a midnight ribbon-cutting ceremony attended by CEO, Nick Zellen. But he wouldn’t be there for the first full day of business, as he was attending the US Figure Skating Championships being held in Boston. The man was counting on that. And besides, the big crowds spilling out the door weren’t there to see a businessman; they had come to see Sarvy Music recording artist, and Zellen’s wife, Natalie Gold, who was signing copies of her latest CD.

The man waited in line for almost an hour, about ten spots behind the woman in the Red Sox hat. When he was able to examine her face, he confirmed that his mind wasn’t playing tricks on him—it was her. She looked antsy, which wasn’t unusual, but what surprised him was that she appeared nervous. That wasn’t her style.

When she finally got her meeting with Natalie Gold, they both tried to act nonchalant. But they couldn’t fool him—this was a planned meeting. And when Natalie shook the woman’s hand after she signed her CD, he noticed that Natalie had stealthily handed her an object, which the woman quickly hid in her pocket. If he weren’t observing their interaction so closely, he never would’ve noticed. The extensive security cameras might not have even picked up the sleight of hand.