Free Blank Slate (A Kyle Jackle Thriller) by Zack Hamric Page B

hand.”
    Dimitri’s forehead broke out into a sweat as he picked up the cigar cutter. He inserted the pinkie on his left hand a quarter inch into the stainless steel blades of the cutter and looked at Popov for confirmation. Popov nodded and Dimitri snapped the jaws of the cutter closed.

CHAPTER 12

    What a lousy way to start the day. When Rivera walked out of the elevator and into his office, he found Miller and Davis already sitting at his desk drinking Starbucks amid the scattered remains of what looked like a blueberry muffin. Miller was speaking quietly on his cell phone and Davis made himself right at home with Rivera’s desk phone tucked into his shoulder as he hammered away on his laptop and tried to talk at the same time.
    “Can I get you guys another cup of coffee or maybe some bagels?” Rivera asked. “Or maybe another office so you can get the hell out of my way?”
    Miller looked up with a smile. “I’m feeling the love this morning. How are you detective?”
    In spite of himself, Rivera was actually beginning to tolerate Miller. He still found something vaguely irritating about Davis-could be the cockiness that seemed to be riding just under the surface or the way his eyes would roam around the room when they were having a conversation instead of focusing on him.
    “So what brings you guys back to my world this morning?”
    “There was a little excitement in Lauderdale last night,” said Miller as Davis continued his phone conversation. “It looks like our boy showed up at a strip club and decided to throw a little party. The description from the witnesses didn’t exactly match up to Kyle, but the trail of destruction he left behind seems to fit his style.”
    “So, why was he there? Maybe feeling a little lonely after the stressful week that he’s had? Nothing like a little rub and tug to solve the problems in a man’s life.”
    “I’m not sure why he would show up there. Not a good move at all-this was one of the clubs owned by Sergei Popov. Popov is the Ukranian general who started the ball rolling in Italy and started moving his business into Miami a few years ago. The Camorra mob guy in Italy that we turned a few months ago is history. We just got word last night that Popov got wise and apparently decided to terminate the relationship.”
    “They killed him?”
    “Worse than that. Apparently they found out about him this week when Kyle’s cover was blown. They tortured him for two days before dumping him more dead than alive in front of the US Embassy on Wednesday-and it took another two days before we could positively identify the man.”
    Rivera raised his eyebrows. “Why the delay?”
    “There wasn’t much to work with-before they finished squeezing him for information, his fingers had been cut off one at a time, his tongue ripped out, and his eyes burned out with a butane torch. In the end, they had to identify him with DNA records from when he had been arrested a few years before. The worse part is that it looks like he might actually survive.”
    “Take me back a little-you mentioned that Jackle had been working undercover in Miami for a couple for months before his cover was blown. Did he screw up or was there an informant somewhere?”
    Miller shook his head. “Kyle was the best-no way I could imagine him getting rolled without there being a leak somewhere in the system. He was right in the lion’s den on this one-the Italian introduced him to Popov as a guy who could move cash in any amount and any currency, Dollars, Euros, pounds, it didn’t matter. It’s paid off big time-for the past three months, we have a record of every cash transaction and the structure of the companies they were using to layer the cash.”
    “When was the last time you heard from him?”
    “He checked in with me seven days ago on a throwaway cell phone-unusual for him; he usually only spoke to me over secure lines. It seemed pretty much business as usual except he had been asked to expand the