The Export by J.K. Kelly (read along books txt) 📕

“Why would I spend anything, the CIA has an unlimited budget!”

I wonder what would happen if I threw this asshole into the Moscow River myself? Matt thought to himself, smiling as he enjoyed the image. This guy’s got a dirty dick, and he expects the taxpayers to bail him out of it?

“Did I say something funny?” Wilkerson asked.

“No, ambassador,” Matt responded. “I was just imagining my pleasure with throwing someone into the river, if I can ever get my hands on him.” Matt sighed and reluctantly let go of the fantasy. “There are two things I need to know before I put a plan into action.”

“Yes?”

“First, I will need to talk to your son and your wife separately.”

“My son, no problem, but why my wife? She knows I didn’t have anything to do with that girl Misha, but she is unaware they have additional leverage on me.”

“You’d be surprised, Mr. Ambassador,” Matt answered. “There are women who know their men cheat, and there are those who are okay with it and those who aren’t. But there are also those who do something about it. I need to know where she is on this. We can try to buy or scheme your way out of this, but if she’s not on board one hundred percent, then that’s a contingency I have to build into the battle plan.”

A knock at the door interrupted Wilkerson’s train of thought, and that seemed to make him angry. When the offender opened the door and stepped in, his mood quickly changed.

“So this is the miracle man come to save us from the hostiles,” Mrs. Wilkerson said as she walked across the room and extended her hand to Matt.

He quickly stood and noticed the aide closing the door.

“Sarah Wilkerson,” she said softly as they shook hands. Sarah Sinclair Wilkerson was a Texan through and through. She was smart, confident, and tough as nails. Matt knew she had family money from oil rights in South Texas and had been a beautiful Dallas Cowboys cheerleader.

He’s cheating on her? Matt thought to himself as the two spent a few minutes talking about the weather, the opulence they found in a city where so many went without, and how happy they both were to have been born in America instead of in Russia or some barren, third-world country.

Moscow was a tale of two cities; the impoverished citizenry that lacked jobs, decent healthcare, freedom of speech and lived under an oppressive former leader of the KGB. The affluent element of the city were actually affluent on steroids. Money was flowing, lots of money, as evidenced by the uber high-end shopping district and an annual event that catered to the richest of the rich that only millionaires could attend. For the majority, Russia was still in the shadows of the old Soviet Union. For the rest, it was a whole new world.

“Whenever I hear complaints back home,” Matt offered, “I always say at least you weren’t born with flies in your eyes.”

“Sit down, sit down!” she insisted and waited until both men had made themselves comfortable again before she began to give her husband a hard time.

“What kind of host are you, Russell?” she admonished him. “This young man has come all the way from Washington to help our Raymond with little Misha, and there’s not even a damn tray of cookies laid out for him!”

Without seeming to think about it twice, she walked to Matt, stood behind him, and put her hands on the back of his head, then started to pick through his hair. He was startled, almost embarrassed by her touch, and locked eyes with the ambassador, who was also taken by surprise at her behavior.

“Now, let’s see what kind of work that hotel doctor did on you,” Sarah continued. “Oh, that’s nothing, dearie, I’ve had worse just falling off a horse.” She patted him on both shoulders but left her hands there. The ambassador gave her a look, but her touch remained just long enough to irritate him further.

“All right, all right, Russell,” she groaned. “I know that look. I’m coming on a little strong and fast.” She walked over to his desk and smiled at her husband. “But you didn’t mind that the night we first met, now, did you?”

Wilkerson smiled back. “She’s shot out of a cannon, isn’t she?” he said with a laugh.

“So, Mr. Fix-It,” she said. “How long does something like this usually take to wrap up?”

Matt smiled politely. Nothing like being regarded as a handyman, he thought.

“Most of the work I’ve done over the last twelve months, for example, has taken one to three days at the most.” He thought for a moment. “This case, however, might take a bit longer. Normally there’s one moving part of a problem, but we’re facing quite a few issues. And working in Russia is a bit different than troubleshooting in France, Australia, or the U.S. This is the first time I’ve received stitches my first night in town.”

The ambassador and his wife looked to each other and nodded their approval. If this man was as good as they had been told, they were prepared to place their problem in his capable hands.

“If I may,” Matt suggested, “I think, going forward, we need to make my appearance here seem as though I’m with the diplomatic service and we go way back as family friends, here to catch up after all these years. Can the two of you run with that?”

“Makes sense,” the ambassador responded. “The only people who know who you really are, at least the only ones we’ve told, are the two Marines who drove you here this morning. I trust them with my life.”

“Then you should move into Spaso House with us,” Sarah demanded. “It’s our official residence, not far from here at all. It’s something else. Close friends always stay there with us. You’ll be safer and have our assets, America’s assets, at your disposal.” Thinking of the rough first night he’d had, and