Tryzub E-Book

John Reinhard Dizon

• Herausgeber: Next Chapter
• Kategorie: Fantasy und Science-Fiction
• Sprache: Englisch

Veröffentlichungsjahr: 2022

Beschreibung

After Russian researchers develop a miracle cure for HIV, Trident Corporation begins the drug’s beta testing in America.

Sabrina gets tangled in an international web of intrigue, as terrorists are using the project as subterfuge for an attack on American soil. Soon after, a terrorist attack rocks Wall Street. It is time for the Nightcrawler to come out again.

But this time, Sabrina's lover Hoyt is in the thick of the action. With the war between drug cartels raging around them, can Sabrina bring the criminals to justice - and protect her fiancée?

Leseprobe

Tryzub

Nightcrawler, Book II

John Reinhard Dizon

Copyright (C) 2015 John Reinhard Dizon

Layout design and Copyright (C) 2019 by Next Chapter

Published 2019 by Next Chapter

Cover Design by CoverMint

This book is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents are the product of the author's imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual events, locales, or persons, living or dead, is purely coincidental.

All rights reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic or mechanical, including photocopying, recording, or by any information storage and retrieval system, without the author's permission.

Chapter One

Sabrina Brooks and Hoyt Wexford had reserved their favorite table at Keens Steakhouse on West 36th Street in Manhattan that Friday evening. They had dressed well for the occasion and caught the eye of more than one customer who thought they might have been a celebrity couple. Bree and Hoyt ordered a lobster salad and decided to split the steak and lobster entrée along with a bottle of blush wine. After the waiter brought the wine, Bree was reduced to tears when Hoyt placed the small velvet box on the table.

“I love you more than anyone else in my life,” Hoyt gazed into her eyes as she looked up after staring dumbfounded at the $10,000 two-carat three-stone diamond ring set in 14K white gold. She knew that, on a NYPD detective's salary, this was not a small investment on his part. “I want to spend the rest of my life with you. I know we've both had a lot on our plates lately with our careers and all, but that'd be a great reason to have someone to share our burdens with.”

“Was that supposed to be a speech?” a tear trickled down her cheek.

“You know I'm not good at speeches.”

“You're wonderful at everything you do. You've made me the happiest girl in the world.”

“I'm gonna take that as a yes.”

“You mean you're not getting down on one knee and everything?”

Hoyt rose from his seat just before Bree hopped out of her chair and threw herself into his arms. The diners in the high-class restaurant looked up in bemusement, and she showed them her ring to a round of applause. She hugged him again before they finally took their seats.

“Omigosh, I'm so excited I won't be able to eat,” she waved her hand at her face.

“Don't you even go there,” his dark blue eyes sparkled as he smiled mischievously, his thick black mane framing his ruggedly handsome face. “With the prices in this place, I'll sit over there and spoon-feed you.”

“That sounds like a plan,” she giggled.

It had been almost a year since he gave her his friendship ring, and things were as hectic in their professional lives as ever. The Brooks Chemical Company had thrived and prospered since Sabrina took control of her father's enterprise. They had made enough money for her to open up a second research facility in the Sheepshead Bay area of Brooklyn. It was a half hour drive from their headquarters on Staten Island, allowing her and BCC vice-president Jon Aeppli to conveniently travel between locations. Yet they were experiencing the expected growing pains and Sabrina was working seven days a week to keep things running smoothly.

Hoyt had earned his detective's badge during Operation Octagon in playing a key role in ending the terrorist threat to NYC. He was next assigned to the Organized Crime Unit at Police Plaza in Manhattan where he became part of a twelve-man task force. It was a six-team crew assigned to investigate the growing influence of the Russian Mob in the metro. They were working in conjunction with the Russian Federation's Federal Security Service, the successors to the KGB. It tied Hoyt up in more red tape than ever, and the bureaucratic restrictions grew ever more frustrating as he struggled to overcome the challenges of his new position.

Sabrina's Nightcrawling career seemed to have come to an end. After escaping her war against the Octagon with her life, she concurred with Hoyt and Jon that her vigilante days had come to an end. Sometimes she recounted the events of the previous Fourth of July and broke into a cold sweat, realizing just how lucky she was to be alive. She had saved the City from a catastrophic attack, and reconciled herself to the fact she had made the contribution of a lifetime in realizing her law enforcement dream. She would let Hoyt bear the standard for both of them from now on.

Next to her father Vern, Hoyt was the strongest man she had ever known. She owed him her support, and would not be the cause of any more concern than he faced on the field protecting and serving the citizens of New York. She had been learning how to cook, and was not too bad at keeping the family mansion clean. She was sure she would make a good wife, and would look forward to the big day.

She decided to keep the latest news about recent developments at BCC under wraps for now. She and Jon were elated to learn that they were on a very short list of possible researchers in conjunction with the Government's HALT-116 Project. The Russian Federation had announced they were in the late stages of developing a miracle cure for the AIDS/HIV virus. They requested the assistance of the United States in completing the project and distributing the product worldwide. BCC had been contracted by the military years ago and already had a foot in the door. Sabrina's successes in expanding the Company had become a major factor as well.

Her only concern was the assignment of a Russian research scientist to BCC in collaborating in the project. The FDA authorities made it clear that the final product would have to meet with their approval as well as that of the Russian government. She would have to be giving the representative considerable access to BCC facilities and be working closely with them for the duration. The BCC staff was a tight-knit family and would certainly resent the intrusion. Yet the success of the project would earn BCC a place in history and establish her father's legacy forever.

She would do whatever it took to make it happen. Little did she expect that she would face the test of a lifetime in the weeks ahead.

Benigno Terrazas had done business with Vern Brooks for over a decade. The owner of Superfecta Manufacturing Co. in the South Bronx, he had been financed by his wealthy father in Mexico who had dreams of his son extending the family empire. Only Benny had a drinking and gambling problem which continually compromised his fortune. When his wife was diagnosed with terminal cancer, it proved to be a crushing blow that would collapse his world entirely.

Benny's wife died a month before Hoyt had proposed to Sabrina that evening at Keens' Steakhouse. He was seriously contemplating suicide after returning from the funeral in Mexico City. He had always been somewhat of a disappointment to his father, and this turn of events would be seen as the chickens coming home to roost. His father had provided his daughter-in-law a lavish funeral, but nothing was mentioned about Benny resuming his responsibilities at Superfecta. They both knew that it was imperative for him to bury his grief by immersing himself in his work. Only Benny was now looking for the easy way out.

His .38 Smith & Wesson was on the desktop before him as he sat in his office on that dreary Friday afternoon. He had cut back to a six-man skeleton crew, and he knew that they all had resumes online. His general manager called off, most likely for a job interview. The assistant manager was a kid out of college who was still finding his way around. His four technicians were watching the clock, biding their time, waiting for Benny to close the factory down at last.

He knew his Dad was going to turn off the money spigot any day now, which had already been reduced to a trickle. Benny was already in deep with loan sharks in Brooklyn as he tried to recoup his heavy gambling losses. He was a damned good poker player, but his string of luck had been horrible just before his wife took ill. The diagnosis was an evil omen that he never recovered from, playing every hand out of desperation rather than the prudence upon which he built his gambling rep. When he started borrowing against his personal assets, it combined with the medical expenses as a crippling blow. He turned to the sharks as a last resort and now they were out for blood. His father would never lend him the kind of money he needed to get out of this mess.

He could hear the rats deserting the ship at 4:30, the lower level doors opening and closing as voices called back across the factory floor. He could hear the car doors slamming in the parking lot and the vehicles roaring off from his second floor office suite. He had no qualms about leaving the gun out on the desk in plain sight because the bastards were not about to come up and check on him. He was just a milk cow scheduled for the meat market any day now.

The door opened and closed again, and this time he heard someone coming up the steps. He didn't give a damn about anything anymore, didn't give a damn if anyone saw the revolver on the desk. He would let whoever it was walk away with their own conclusions. They would think he was planning to opt out, or he was turning into Benny Bad Ass, or maybe someone was looking for him. It made no difference at this point, let them think anything they wanted.

“Who the hell are you?”

“My name is Viktor Volkoff. You can call me Mr. V.”

The man sat down casually in the chair before Benny's desk in his well-furnished office. He looked like a buffed-out version of a younger Elton John with his 70's blond coiffure and his wide-rimmed tinted lenses. He wore a dark green suit and a black shirt that made him look even more like a caricature. There was something not right about this picture.

“Don't tell me. You're from Brooklyn.”

“Were you planning to use that on yourself?”

“Why?” Benny was ruffled. This wasn't something he intended anyone to take lightly.

“I would want to be able to say that I witnessed the event.”

“Yeah? And why's that?”

“You owe $50k, Mr. Terrazas. It's not a figure my associates consider trifling. You missed a meeting earlier this week, which was a cause of concern. I am here to propose an option.”

“Yeah? What's that?”

“Your company is losing money. You can't possibly repay the debt. We have a way that you will be able to restore solvency to the company and make us all a lot of money.”

“So what, you're gonna move in on me as silent partners?”

“No, not quite. This is a twofold proposal, one designed to yield both short-term and long-term profits. We will be content to take a fair share and allow you to pay us what is owed on a convenient schedule. Should you prove negligent or renege in any way, the loan will be payable in full on notice.”

“What do you think you're gonna do, cook meth in here?”

“Something like that. The cover project will allay any suspicion by the authorities.”

“Not happening. I'm not gonna drag my family name down in some drug operation.”

“If you had any real choices that gun would not be lying on your desk. We know your father won't lend you any more money. If I leave here without your word, your account will be due and payable immediately. You know your situation as well as we do. You've nowhere to run, and there's nowhere you can hide without us finding you.”

“What do I gotta do?” Benny asked resignedly.

“There is a government project being negotiated between our nations as we speak,” Volkoff propped his elbows on the armrests as he folded his hands. “We have enough leverage to put you on a very short list. There is another company of interest known as the Brooks Chemical Company. We will expect you to reach out to your former colleague's daughter to ensure her participation. Once you are awarded this contract, phase two of the operation will commence.”

“And you figure the government project'll be a cover-up for your drug racket.”

“Actually you'll have very little involvement in that area. We are sending one of our people over to act as your representative, overseeing the technical details of the project.”

“I have a general manager who handles that.”

“That will be taken care of as well. Our man will report for duty the first thing Monday. You will be contacted by FDA officials early next week. Once everything is set, we will begin modifying this facility to accommodate the necessary equipment. It will be a painless transition that will satisfy our debt and make you a very rich man in a short time.”

“So that's it,” Benny growled as Volkoff rose to leave. “Those are my choices.”

“Unless you can write me a check for fifty thousand dollars or plan to make your funeral arrangements,” Volkoff walked out the door. “Good evening, Mr. Terrazas.”

Hoyt arrived at the office the next morning after proposing to Bree the night before. He decided he would go over some paperwork before driving out to meet her for a picnic lunch that afternoon. Someone once told him that the higher up the ladder you went, footwork was exponentially replaced by paperwork. He thought that it would be different in the OCU, but he was sadly mistaken thus far.

Though some things changed, others remained the same. The piles of paper were replaced by the inundation of e-mails in his New Folder. He gnashed his teeth as he saw how many of these were personal items, secretaries planning office parties and sending congratulations to those being promoted or transferred. He often thought of requesting being taken off those lists, but that would be seen as snobbery that might never be forgotten. Camaraderie was of utmost importance in this line of work, and it was just as important that someone had your back in the office as it was out on the field.

“You are Hoyt Wexford?”

He looked up at the tall, athletically built man with the close-cropped hair, steely blue eyes, longish nose and thin lips. He wore a dark, well-tailored suit that was unusual for a beat cop.

“Yeah, last time I checked.”

“I am Alexander Tretiak from the Federal Security Service. I understood you were expecting me next week.”

“My pleasure. Have a seat.”

“I just thought I would come by and introduce myself. I know you weren't scheduled to be in today, but I figured I'd stop by and take my chances.”

“Well, I was in the neighborhood and stopped in to check my e-mail. I'm supposed to take my fiancée out on a picnic in a little while.”

“When's the big day?”

“Actually I just popped the question last night. It was my lucky day.”

“Congratulations. I won't keep you, we won't want you to get off on a bad start.”

“Not at all. She's used to the routine. She's gonna be a cop's wife, she knows her entire life schedule's gonna be subject to change.”

“You always try to make it up as best you can,” Tretiak gazed out at the impressive view from Hoyt's office window. “Have you gotten to look over any of the case files from Moscow?”

“Nah, I'm not opening that can of worms until Monday. We've got a briefing session ahead, so I'll get caught up to speed on all the gory details.”

“Have you gotten anything on the Chechen Mob lately?”

“No, I haven't. This is all news to me.”

“That's funny. Neither have I.”

“I—uh—,” Hoyt squinted at him. “Aren't you supposed to be the go-to guy with this?”

“My point exactly, Detective Wexford.”

“Hoyt.”

“Yes, Hoyt. I've been following the career of Sergei Karpov for the better part of the past decade. He was a key figure in the Russian Mob during the 90's before coming here to start his own family in Brighton Beach at the turn of the century. He is a very clever man with strong connections and investments back home. I believe he is using the Chechen terror threat as a smoke screen to distract the authorities from his own activities.”

“Well, you're talking terrorists as opposed to the Mob.”

“Precisely. If Karpov is able to blur the distinction before the US and Russian authorities, he makes it far more difficult to deal with them. Once the police begin searching for what may be dormant cells within the Chechen network, you may end up chasing ghosts. That will only increase anxiety, resulting in a greater focus which will divert efforts to take down Karpov.”

“Well, Lieutenant Tretiak—,”

“Alex.”

“Okay, Alex. The meeting Monday's about the Chechen Mob and how we're gonna stretch them out. Does anyone know you're planning to drop this bomb on everyone?”

“I don't think there's much of a difference between bureaucracies here or back home. Rocking the boat is not the way to hitch a ride. I was brought here to expedite the joint effort between our countries. Only I know the Chechens and I know Karpov. After a couple of weeks' surveillance I will know whether or not the Chechens are involved. It won't affect my judgment in doing what is necessary to cripple Karpov's operation. Of course, this will be impossible without your help.”

“So let me get this straight. Your people are sending you over here to break up the Chechen Mob and you're planning to go after Karpov.”

“I just want to give you an idea of what we may be facing out there. If there is a Chechen Mob, they will be ruthless in doing whatever it takes to remain invisible. Rest assured, if it is a ploy being used by Karpov, he will prove just as dangerous in protecting his cover.”

“All right, so we just sit up there Monday and nod our heads while they brief us on this Chechen Mob that doesn't exist.”

“What actually exists is a secret organization known as the Tryzub, the Trident. They are Chechen extremists whose networks are spread throughout Eastern Europe. They are similar to Al Qaeda in resorting to narcoterrorism in furthering their agenda. We suspect that the Tryzub has links to drug cartels across Europe, though having no connection to the Russian Mafiya. Karpov and his associates would have our superiors believe that the Tryzub has extended its reach into New York, when in fact it is he who is expanding his own operation.”

“Sounds like you got a real hard-on for Karpov.”

“Let me explain myself,” Alex narrowed his eyes. “I have no love lost for the Chechens. I had friends who were among those murdered at the Dubrovka Theater in Moscow in 2002. If we come across the trail of the Tryzub, rest assured I will stop at nothing to eliminate them. However, as a murderer, drug dealer and extortionist, Karpov stands favorably alongside them. My reason for coming here is to give you my opinion before we proceed. If you feel uncomfortable, perhaps we can come to a resolution before attending the meeting.”

“No, I'm good,” Hoyt held up a hand. “I just don't want to get smoke blown up my arse from either side, if you know what I mean. I've got plenty of experience with terrorists, I'm sure you know. I got here by helping take down the Octagon last year.”

“Yes, I was given access to your dossier. Tell me, did you actually get to meet the Nightcrawler? That must have been quite an experience.”

“Just the one time, at the Statue of Liberty. He was on the way up to the torch and I was vacating the area, so it wasn't much of a meeting.”

“He survived a three hundred and fifty-foot drop that day. It seems he was not as lucky the second time.”

“Well, a body was never recovered. Us New Yorkers like to think he's alive and well out there somewhere.”

“And that he's learned his lesson about taking the law into his own hands,” Alex rose to leave, reaching over to shake Hoyt's hand. “A pleasure to meet you.”

Hoyt could not help but chuckle as Alex headed off for the elevator. He could only imagine the reaction if he learned Hoyt would be having a picnic with the Nightcrawler in a couple of hours.

Sabrina Brooks had her own taste of the Siberian Express at BCC that Wednesday. She, Jon Aeppli, Ryan Hoffman and Micah Malloy were elated upon learning they were granted the research contract for the US-Russia AIDS serum project. Once the celebration ended, they prepared for their meeting with their Russian coordinator that morning. As it turned out, they found that their guest was not what they had expected.

Dariya Romanova was a beautiful girl from the city of Omsk. A graduate of the Moscow State University at Lomonosov, she had a degree in chemistry and had spent her internship in nuclear medicine research at the Kurchatov Institute. She had jet-black hair, china blue eyes and an hourglass figure. Sabrina found it amusing that it was lost on her team, as Ryan and Micah were gay and Jon was a middle-aged married man.

“Let me just say I am very pleased to be here in New York to be working with you on this project,” Dariya spoke with a thick Siberian accent. “I am very confident that we will be making history here in a very short time. I have heard many good things about this Company and am quite sure that this will be a wonderful experience.”

“Well, this is what you might call a cottage industry in that we're a tightly-knit family business,” Jon focused his steel-blue eyes on her. “We keep no secrets from one another and work as a unit in everything we do. If anyone has a good idea or something to contribute, we put it right on the table to see if anyone can make it better. Anytime you have any suggestions, we'd want you to speak up so we can keep everything running smoothly.”

“I certainly appreciate that,” Dariya was sincere. “My greatest wish is to make a positive contribution to our success.”

“We've got a personal commitment to this project,” Micah spoke up. Though Ryan was a closet queen, Micah had come out a long time ago. “We have friends and relatives who have contracted this disease. There are a lot of people depending on us, not to mention the millions of victims around the world.”

“My heart goes out to you,” Dariya sympathized. “I myself have more than a couple of friends in Moscow who have been afflicted. I wake up every day hoping that it might be the day that we can make the dream come true.”

“I thought gays were illegal in Russia,” Ryan suppressed a grin.

“Don't pay attention to him, he's always teasing,” Sabrina waved a hand at him. “I'll show you around, take you to your office and help you get situated. If you need anything any of us will be right here for you. Okay, guys, let's get out there and clean up this AIDS mess once and for all.”

Things were happening so quickly she had scarcely enough time to absorb it all. She got a call at nine on Monday morning informing her that BCC had been awarded the Government contract. She next learned that her father's old colleague Benny Terrazas was assigned to the development end of the project. She had not spoken to Benny in quite some time, and he was glad to hear from her though downplaying his excitement over the new development. They agreed to meet for dinner that Friday in celebrating their good fortune as well as discussing how they could coordinate their efforts in pursuing their goal.

They decided to reserve a table for seven at Delmonico's, advertised as the oldest restaurant in NYC. The classic décor was highlighted by chandeliers illuminating the elegantly-curtained windows and the traditional china and white linen table settings. They met there at six PM, Hoyt Wexford and Benny Terrazas greeting them in the waiting area before the maître d' escorted them to the Dickens Alcove. They ordered drinks and appetizers before the waiter left them to their casual conversation.

“This is a wonderful place,” Dariya gazed around at the resplendent settings. “There are places like this in Moscow which are either too expensive or too exclusive. If you can afford a week's pay to eat there, you have to make reservations months in advance and hope some politician is not in need of your table.”

“Let me tell you, honey,” Micah batted his eyelashes, “You don't know how many times my boyfriend and I showed up at restaurants and received the exact same treatment. You wouldn't happen to have a girlfriend, by any chance?”

“I—uh—,” Dariya blushed. “No, no, I'm afraid not.”

There was a silent pause before everyone at the table broke out in polite laughter.

“They're at it again,” Sabrina reached over and squeezed Dariya's hand reassuringly.

“Of course,” Dariya smiled back. She was very personable and highly intelligent, and she had little problem getting up to speed at BCC. Jon and Sabrina had not worked in biochemistry for quite some time, and Dariya had a gift for teaching that reacquainted them with all they needed to know about the project. Alternately, they gave her a crash course of BCC's facilities and the preliminary research they had done to get them where they needed to be when Dariya stepped in. It had been a busy week, but it finally got to where Dariya was comfortable in her surrounding and ready to roll when the beta serums were delivered on Monday.

“So I hear you've had a lot of renovations going on at your place,” Hoyt mentioned to Benny. “I certainly hope the Government's picking up the tab.”

“Well, it's a tricky arrangement,” Benny arched his eyebrows. He was a squat, well-built man with slicked back hair and Aztec eyes accentuating his dark, handsome face. “Some of it's on the cuff, some of it's kinda like lend-lease. I hadn't heard a term like that since I was in history class in high school.”

“I can imagine,” Ryan sipped his Chardonnay. “It's like they haul all those contraptions out to your place, then once the project's over they don't tell you what to do with them.”

“The way they got it figured, once the serum's approved, they'll need enough from us to ship to all fifty states,” Benny explained. “It has to go through testing in each state, but from there it'll be shipped to major hospitals in key cities. We'll be filling tanker trucks with the stuff before the states begin setting up their own production centers. I've just never had to fill those kind of orders before, so my whole facility requires updating. Plus the Government inspectors are coming in right behind the engineers. It's a real pain in the butt.”

“Oh, I can tell you all about inspectors and pains in the butt,” Micah lisped, causing everyone to laugh and shake their heads.

“Did you have that kind of problem in Russia?” Sabrina wondered.

“That was the reason why the Government decided to bring the United States into the picture,” she revealed. “The bureaucracy was threatening to paralyze the project. The Kremlin was eager to move ahead and share the discovery with the world in the name of Mother Russia. Only the project was bottlenecked by industrialists all trying to capitalize on the situation. When one corporation appeared to have the contract secured, another one would file a complaint with an investigative committee and have the whole deal restructured. In desperation they turned to America and let your companies fight it out.”

“Sadly enough, I think the reason why we got the job was because nobody thinks it's going to work,” Jon said wryly. “The tabloids think it's somewhere between a miracle cure for cancer and the common cold. They decided to let a small company like BCC work it out, and if it crashes and burns on our end, the Government shrugs it off as a Rube Goldberg project.”

“Do you agree with that assessment?” Dariya asked pointedly. They had been so busy at the office that week that there was little time for discussion, let alone personal observations.

“I'm a chemist,” Jon replied. “They give me a theory, I form a hypothesis, and we begin our experimentation to see if it works. Sabrina's father and I always operated under the premise that anything was possible under the sun until disproven. If you tell me you can change water into fire, or fire into water, let's put it under the microscope and see how it's done.”

“Bravo, Mr. Aeppli,” Dariya's ivory teeth sparkled beneath her full-lipped smile as she raised her glass to Jon. “Spoken like a true researcher. If only there were more like you.”

“You're sitting at a table full,” Sabrina assured her.