Interlude 5

September 30th, Early Morning hours, Austin, Texas

“I listened to your accusations long enough. You said he is just boy. No training, no danger, easy job,” Kasparin said in his heavy Russian accent as the two men sat in Fairfield’s office.

They had been in there for more than an hour already, discussing how to remedy the situation. After they had discovered young Paul’s escape, they spent as much time as they could safely afford looking for him, but to no avail. He had simply vanished, and Fairfield blamed Kasparin for that blunder. He had thought the man would be capable of keeping an untrained youngster restrained. Instead, they had no choice but to throw the woman’s body into Kasparin’s trunk for later disposal and, in anticipation of Paul alerting the authorities, make sure there wouldn’t be any evidence left behind.

But, as if that wasn’t already enough to deal with, on his drive back to the office, he had tried to contact his protégé. Dallas had been assigned to lead the surveillance team tasked with keeping a careful eye on Ms. Anderson, and Fairfield had expected her to be the first person to hear from Paul after his escape. But Dallas was unreachable. So, instead, he called the team directly and learned that Dallas had now, apparently, completely abandoned his duties, and nobody was able to locate him.

“He is a boy!” Fairfield heatedly shot back. “He doesn’t have any mentionable training or background, comrade! How could you let him escape that easily!?”

“Is no boy!” Kasparin scoffed. “Only way for him to escape that easy is if he was prepared! There was nothing in cabin he could use to break cuffs. Nothing on me or Jelena he could have stolen to break cuffs. Whatever he used was hidden on his body, in way we couldn’t find when padding him down. This is your own fault for not giving correct information! Had I known he is professional, I would have used six-men-team for pick-up. It’s surprising he even complied without resisting. We should have used tranquilizer.”

“And why the hell didn’t you!?” Fairfield could barely contain his rage by this point. “Can’t I expect the minimum of professionalism for the thirty-five thousand I paid you for this job!?”

“I heard enough,” the Russian interrupted when Fairfield had just taken another deep breath to continue his tirade. “Deal with this yourself. I will transfer money back!”

With that, Kasparin got up from his seat and simply walked out of the office. Fairfield spent the next few minutes fuming over how utterly this job had derailed and, quickly, reached the conclusion that, while he would have allowed young Paul to persist had the damage he caused not exceeded a certain level, by now, it was a matter of professional pride to dispose of the boy. He could not allow him to continue in his investigation. Even if the boy wouldn’t uncover any more incriminating information, the mere fact that he would never stop searching presented an unnecessary risk for future operations.

Dealing with the lawyer would be a lot easier. They would need to let him continue Ms. Anderson’s defense, to not cause any more suspicious developments the DA’s office could take notice of, but he would need to be persuaded not to use any of the evidence he had received from Paul. That shouldn’t be a problem, however, as the man had two daughters that could be used as an incentive. If the man had any backbone, he would have made a proper career out of his law degree instead of wasting away in the public defender’s office for so many years. It would suffice to present the man with a few pictures of the girls’ bedrooms, to let him know how easily it would be to take them away from him.

The last problem was Ms. Anderson herself. The senator would generally accept Fairfield’s methods, but only as long as his interests were protected. Getting rid of a witness was fine, as long as it looked like an accident. Getting rid of his stepson would also be fine, as long as it looked like a work-related accident. The boy did, after all, work in a dangerous field, investigating dangerous people, making enemies of influential people, and, most important of all, refusing to use the senator’s name.

But if the senator’s ex-wife then perished as well, this would garner a whole new level of interest from the press. If only he knew for sure what Paul and the lawyer had already found out...

The ringing of his desk phone pulled him out of his musings and, after a quick glance at the display showing the number of the General, an annoyed groan escaped his throat.

“Of all the ... Does he have to call now!?” Fairfield mumbled before reaching for the receiver. “General?” He said to greet the man calling him.

“Fairfield, what the hell is going on?” The General was clearly not amused. “I have received rather disturbing reports about the operation you’re currently running in the Anderson case.”

“Yes ... The situation is concerning. As it turned out, we sadly underestimated the level of motivation the stepson would show when trying to counteract our efforts to bring the operation to an end. And, contrary to the information the client provided us with, the support network behind the stepson does include some quite well-trained and seasoned specialists. I’m afraid we can’t really blame Dallas for his blunder anymore. I’m certain he did his best, but for an opponent like that, he’s simply not experienced enough,” Fairfield lamented, knowing from the tone of the General’s voice that now was not the time to keep blaming his superior’s son for his repeated attempts to drive this operation into a wall.

“Now isn’t the time to assign blame, Fairfield, ” the General said in an exasperated sigh before continuing in a serious voice. “The report I received informs me that you launched a failed attempt to extract Anderson’s stepson, the person who is still working directly with the DA’s office’s support after drawing their attention to your pansy witness’ death, and thereby possibly exposed the entire Division South?”

Fairfield felt all blood draining from his face. How could the General possibly know about this!? It was only hours since Paul slipped through their fingers, and, so far, there was no word of any law enforcement looking in the organization’s direction.

“We can’t ... eliminate that possibility for certain,” Fairfield stuttered.