Page 93 of Exacting Vengeance

Chapter Thirty-Seven

More than twelve hours had passed since Yuri had kidnapped Victoria, and they still had nothing. Not one clue that would tell Kyle where she was. With kidnappings, the longer it took to find the victim, the less chance there was of finding them with a pulse.

The higher and higher in the sky the sun rose, the more his heart raced with unbanked panic one minute, slowing to a dull thud the next. Being so helpless had never been part of his genetic makeup. With every step he took pacing back and forth on the sidewalk, the waiting was tearing him to pieces.

Forensics hadn’t discovered anything he didn’t already know. Yuri’s fingerprints were in the bathroom, the living room, on the discarded flower vase, and in the abandoned florist delivery truck parked out front.

In addition to the alerts Jack had activated at all the ports of entry and egress, every police department in the country had been sent a kidnapping bulletin that included identities and descriptions of both the victim and the kidnapper. Last, Kyle had requested the FBI’s Chicago Field Office station agents outside the bank where Victoria had originally hidden the money.

So far, Mike’s CI had come up empty, and none of the snitches in Brighton Beach knew a thing. Usually, money put on the street churned up intel, but not a single snitch had come through. Someone had to know.

The entire block was lined with patrol cars, unmarked FBI vehicles, and other support units. Through the windshields of their SUVs, he saw Jack and Deke with phones glued to their ears. Mike had arrived late last night to coordinate with the New Jersey State Police and the local PD.

Time was of the essence, yet they had nothing to go on except basic FBI protocol for kidnapping investigations. In this case, basic protocol would never be successful. This kidnapping had nothing to do with ransom money.

The rainstorm that had blown through, brought with it an abrupt change in the warm October weather. Overnight, the temperature had dropped to below freezing. A stiff wind blew down the sidewalk, ruffling the jacket he’d put on. He didn’t mind it. The biting cold and stinging wind helped clear his head, something that had eluded him since the moment he’d realized Victoria was truly gone.

Stopping on the sidewalk, he stared up at her second story window, categorizing factual evidence into one compartment, emotional evidence into another. Not his emotions. Yuri’s. Because even hardened criminals had feelings.

Yuri had intentionally smoked that cigar in the apartment so Kyle would know he’d been there. Yuri wanted him to suffer and experience precisely what he was experiencing: fear, panic, anger, helplessness, and above all else––pain. It was the ultimate revenge for putting him in prison. Though it hadn’t been intentional, Kyle had taken everything from the man. Including his wife and, just as importantly, his pride.

The wind blew open his jacket, exposing his body to the frigid air, but he felt nothing. He was holding on by a thread. Victoria’s life and the life of their unborn child were in the hands of a violent, sick bastard.

Multiple car doors slammed. Moments later, Mike and his brothers joined him on the sidewalk.

“Anything?” his boss asked, and Kyle shook his head. “Hang in there. You have the full resources of the FBI at your disposal.”

“I know.” Fat lot of good those resources were. “Who would have thought what happened ten years ago would lead to this?”

“You had no way of knowing,” Mike said. “I hear Victoria’s pregnant.”

Kyle nodded. While it was a private matter, he’d included it in the kidnapping alerts so medical personnel would know her condition. Assuming she was found. Alive. At this point, he had to be realistic. Odds were fifty-fifty he would lose another woman he loved and their unborn child. He looked at each of his brothers. “History is repeating itself, and there’s nothing I can do to stop it.”

His phone rang, and he tugged it from his belt.

Unknown caller.

In the last twelve hours, he’d received at least ten calls with their number blocked. “Gates,” he said, with no expectation this call would be different from the others. Worthless.

“Alex Tarankov,” a familiar voice said. “I hear you are looking for Yuri Petrov.”

Kyle’s skin tingled with caution. Of all the people he could have hoped would help him, this person was at the bottom of the list.

Nikolai Lebedev.

Finally, the inquiries they’d made had worked their way to the top of the Brighton Beach Bratva’s chain of command.

Quickly, he put the call on speaker for his boss and brothers to listen in. “I am looking for Yuri. Do you know where he is?” He was sure Lebedev did. There could be no other reason for the call.

Simultaneously, Jack and Deke whipped out their phones to record the conversation.

“My people tell me he found his wife, Vika,” Lebedev said, ignoring Kyle’s question and telling him the man had something else to get off his chest before divulging Yuri’s location. And, he wanted something in return. Information was never free. “He promised me he would tell me when he did. He failed in that one simple order.”

He caught his brothers’ gazes, instantly processing what he was hearing, interpreting the true meaning of his words.

Lebedev must have known Victoria had control of Yuri’s money while he’d been in prison. He knew she was Yuri’s accountant. The fact Yuri hadn’t told him where Victoria was also confirmed what Mike’s CI had related. Yuri had no intention of forking over half to Lebedev, and Lebedev knew it.

“Why are you telling me this?” Kyle asked.